Sunlight poured through the wide windows of Claude's penthouse, illuminating the scattered traces of yesterday's passion — rumpled sheets, soft marks on Claude's skin that still lingered like secret souvenirs, and the faint scent of both of them intermingled in the air. Mio stirred under the blanket, stretching languidly, hair messy, lips slightly parted as if still tasting the memory of last night.
Claude leaned against the headboard, one arm behind his head, shirtless, every line of his toned body carrying the faint shadows of kisses, nips, and lingering traces of their intimacy. He watched her, amused, the corner of his lips tugging into a knowing grin.
"You're awake," he remarked casually, though his eyes roamed her every movement.
Mio blinked, groaning softly. "I… I can't move yet," she said, pressing a hand to her forehead. "My body… hurts."
