The next morning arrived with sunlight slipping past the curtains and the smell of salt lingering in the room. Elias woke first this time.
Victor was still sleeping, or pretending to be asleep, which was close enough to sleeping for him. His arm was heavy across Elias's waist, firm even in unconsciousness, like his body couldn't fathom the idea of letting Elias move without him.
Elias didn't try to get up. Not yet.
He stayed there a moment, listening to the ocean, feeling the warmth beneath his cheek, the very normal domesticity of it.
Eventually, Victor's eyes opened. Crimson, but soft.
"Good morning," Victor murmured, voice low with sleep.
"You can't say that and look like that," Elias replied, because no one should sound like divine judgment and look like a half-awake cat at the same time.
Victor's mouth curved. Slight. Lazy. Amused.
He had the expression of someone who was glad Elias was here.
It should have been illegal.
—
