There are very few people outside, save for the few wandering vampires, and Faey folk cooing to each other amongst beds of roses like turtle doves in a nest. The night is cold enough that Soren's hand almost begins to feel warm in my own, almost comfortable as, before I can fully register what is going on, he pulls me into his lap on one of the soft garden sofas.
"This is beautiful," I sigh, surveying the surroundings as I draw my arms further around myself, shielding my body from the bitter chill of the night. Soren pulls my body against his, his hands gentle around my waist, tenderly toying below my rib cage.
Hedonistic bastard.
"Yes it is rather lovely," he chuckles, giving me a knowing look, as though he had heard the exact words that are chiming in my head. I blush a little.
