Ren stirred, fingertips brushing against something firm yet warm beneath them. His lashes fluttered, a slow, hesitant blink—until the blur sharpened into the sight of Zayden's bare chest, half-hidden beneath the folds of an unbuttoned shirt.
Heat rushed to Ren's cheeks, turning slightly pink.
He shifted, pushing himself up—only to be pulled back effortlessly. A strong arm slipped around him, guiding him down until he was pressed once more against that broad chest, Zayden's grip unyielding, almost possessive.
"Where are you going?" Zayden's voice was rough with sleep, lower and heavier than usual—dangerously attractive.
Ren swallowed, flustered.
"I—I just thought…" He cleared his throat, avoiding those drowsy eyes still half-lidded. "It's getting late. We should… perhaps go have breakfast."
Zayden hummed, gently nuzzling into the curve of Ren's neck.
The omega almost asked, "What is with your obsession with burying your face into my neck every time?"
