As Sian woke up, he found the sun already high in the blue sky, casting its warm rays through the curtains. The wall clock, its cogs crawling slowly, indicated 2:45 PM.
A soft moan and he blinked away the remaining sleep, slowly rising to a sitting position. A spark of confusion clouded his face as if the world around him were still assembling. Fatigue etched on his face gave him a fragile charm, each furrow between his brows testifying to exhaustion. His keen amber eyes, once so bright and full of vitality, were now rimmed with a delicate redness, their beauty more poignant in this state. The golden colour glowed beneath a thin veneer of wetness, and wispy streaks of red indicated the passions churning just beneath the surface. At that moment, Sian's face carried a haunting mix of vulnerability and beauty, an enthralling one with an almost supernatural charm.