Mikhailis shifted slightly, his arms holding the figure close, the unfamiliar scent still nagging at the edge of his mind. The person in his bed felt warm, their body pressed against his in a way that should have been familiar, but something wasn't quite right. His hand brushed up their side, fingers trailing along the curve of their waist, his touch gentle but with a hint of curiosity. The figure responded with a small sound, barely a murmur, that made Mikhailis's pulse quicken.
He moved his hand slowly, feeling the soft fabric of their nightclothes, the sensation oddly intimate in the quiet of the tent. His fingers trailed upwards, tracing the dip of their waist and the curve of their ribs. The figure shifted, arching slightly into his touch, a soft sigh escaping their lips—a sound that sent a jolt through Mikhailis's chest. It wasn't Lira, but something about the moment held him in place, his curiosity mingling with a strange sense of excitement.
