The sun's rays from the large window across the room caused Fennel to stir. Even though he had been in the arms of the bard all night, he had terrible nightmares about them becoming separated. He turned to the man he had given himself to and was saddened at what was to come.
"Oliver," he said, his voice barely soft.
"Mmm," the silver-haired feline hummed, his eyes fluttering open.
"We need to get ready for the day," the king told him, running his fingers through the man's long, silky, silver hair.
"I don't want to," the bard groaned.
"We have to," Fennel insisted, placing a kiss on the man's nose.
"But I like being here with you," the bard pouted.
"Maybe just a little longer," Fennel sighed contently.
The king rested his head on his lover's chest and smiled. He was happy. With a featherlight touch, he traced his fingertips against the side of the bard's body.
"I love you, Fennel," Oliver purred.
