The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains of Elian's chambers, casting a silvery glow over the bed where two figures lay entwined. Elian was curled up against Izan, his head nestled on Izan's chest, with his brown locks spilling over his soft features.
His breathing was steady, calm, as if he were lost in a dream far removed from the world's troubles. And one of Elian's hands clutched lightly at Izan's tunic, his fingers curled in unconscious trust.
Izan lay on his back, one arm wrapped securely around Elian's waist, the other resting loosely on the pillow. His fingers occasionally twitched, subconsciously tightening his hold on the smaller man, as though shielding him even in sleep.
