Warm morning sunlight filtered in from Vaerion's bedroom window, illuminating Asuriel's resting features. The devil found himself enraptured by her face and unable to resist the urge to touch her soft, rounded cheeks. He gently ran his fingers over her smooth, unblemished skin and sighed.
"What will I do with you?" he muttered softly.
It was the second night in a row she had fallen ill in the middle of the night, but it was far worse this time – and to top it off, Vaerion started to feel under the weather himself.
On a much smaller scale, of course. His only symptoms were fatigue and a minor headache, which wouldn't be anything of note if it weren't for the fact he had never fallen sick in his life except after being gravely wounded in battle. Vaerion concluded that his suffering was due to the bond placed on them.
