The soft morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. Noelle stirred, feeling the gentle heat on his skin, the familiar softness of the luxurious bed beneath him. His body ached in a way that reminded him of the night before—a lingering soreness that held no complaint, only a deep satisfaction. The traces of their passion clung to him, like a delicate memory etched into his muscles. But the thought nagged at the back of his mind. Honestly, was it safe to sleep with each other as much as they did?
A looming shadow disturbed his half-awake state. Noelle cracked open an eye, casting a bleary but pointed glare at Thorne, who stood beside the bed with a smug grin, having dared to interrupt his morning slumber.
"Good morning, my star," Thorne greeted softly, his voice a soothing balm to Noelle's mildly irritated expression.
