Hiding him

The morning was still and quiet when Victor woke, the soft light of dawn filtering through the half-drawn curtains.

The golden glow cast long shadows across the room, painting everything in soft hues of amber. He lay there for a moment, his body still as his mind slowly stirred awake.

Then he felt it—the warmth of Eve's body snuggled against his chest, her breath soft and steady as she slept.

Her face was nestled against him, her hair spilling across his arm and pillow in dark brown waves. She looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that it took him a moment to fully process the scene before him.

The delicate rise and fall of her shoulders, the faint flutter of her eyelids as she dreamed—it was all too intimate.

Victor stared down at her, his gaze tracing the soft lines of her face. The tension that usually tightened his features melted away as he watched her.