The Morning After the Chaos

Despite having a good intention, Lariette didn't know Ruediger couldn't sleep well throughout the night. Aside from being concerned with her condition, he also became more aware of the space they shared.

Ruediger lay stiffly on the bed, his body rigid against the soft mattress. His crimson locks spilled on the pillow, revealing his tensed face.

Blinking, he quietly turned his head, looking at Lariette deeply sleeping by his side.

'She sleeps so well. Thank goodness.'

Lariette also laid on her back, her fever-flushed face facing the ceiling. She bundled her long hair into a high bun before going to sleep, feeling restless by the heat.

Under the blanket, her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

In the witching hours, the room was quiet, only to be broken occasionally by their soft breathing and rustling of the bedsheet. Outside, the breeze carried the faint echoes of the waves kissing the shore.