sleep well

fun little gift :) enjoy

The sun sets below the uppermost window of one certain manor atop one certain hill in one certain town of Aletta. And as for the three inhabitants of that one certain room... well, we know perfectly well who they are, don't we?

Addam, in just his nightshirt and slippers, has decided it's time for bed. And sure, Flora may have had a few more dishes in the sink that needed washing, and Minoth hasn't quite finished the grand idea he's been sketching out in his handmade journal, but bedtime is bedtime in this corner of the world.

"I'll join you two in a moment, loves," says Flora, hiding her yawn behind a soft pink hand, the other holding a toothbrush. The loves in question, of course, can't help but watch her as she goes, closing the bathroom door behind her with a soft click.

What little light streams in from that bedroom window washes the room in dusky purple hues, reducing the two of them to silhouettes. Even in the dark, Addam's hands find their target, pulling Minoth in close, wonderfully strong and wonderfully warm.

"Not bad, eh, Prince?" The statement is vague enough that it could be about the weather, or the cool press of the sheets, or even the state of the kingdom. Oh, but Addam holds Minoth even tighter, because he knows.

"If only every night could be like this," he says wistfully, the point of his jaw pressing into the fleshy part of Minoth's shoulder, lips right up close to the curve of his neck. And up above them, the night sky blooms in its breathtaking patterns, stars going on and on forever.

They go a few minutes without speaking, long enough for the bathroom door to crack open, spilling yellow light across the room in a thin leisurely line. Flora pads out, hair long and loose and freshly brushed.

"Well," she says, and that's really all need be said, isn't it? The two of them naturally move apart to make room for her, pulling back the sheets for her to nestle into the space between them. She is their little lady, after all. "It seems I have some catching up to do, seeing as the both of you started without me and all."

Minoth's fingers sneak up to stroke the skin of her hip, gentle, absent-minded. "Hey. We were just getting the bed warmed up."

"Are you two comfortable?" Addam, always the worrier, sits up to survey their arrangement.

"Not quite," Flora mumbles, guiding him back down and into her arms. "Need you right here."

"Better?"

"Perfect." She can't hide her smile, so she tucks it into his chest.

Above her head, Addam's hand finds the cool, steady sanctuary of Minoth's. Their eyes follow suit, wistful gold and longing blue, sharing unspoken vows.

They settle, then shift, then settle again. Kisses land like snowflakes-- on Flora's palm, the base of Minoth's neck, the hollow of Addam's.

Whenever they can, it's like this that they eventually drift into sleep. Connected by various corporeal links, tuned into the most intimate rhythms of love.