He knew Anore didn't like letting his guard down. Didn't like showing need. Which was exactly why the way he clung now felt so unbearably precious. Eiden's chest ached with the urge to protect it.
The dim light filtering through the half-open curtains painted Anore's hair in muted silver, shadows pooling in the dip of his cheek.
Eiden's eyes traced the curve of his jaw, the softness of his lips, lips there were still swollen from the kiss they had shared. His own fingers itched to touch, to map him all over again, but he forced himself still. If he touched now, he wouldn't stop.
His mind drifted to the almost, the point where the heat between them had been seconds away from tipping into something they couldn't take back. Anore's weight pressing him down. The press of his hips, the sound in his throat. Eiden had wanted to lose himself there, to forget every reason why they shouldn't.
But as badly as he wanted him, he wanted this more, the trust that let Anore fall asleep in his arms without fear.
He let his thumb trace small circles against Anore's back, steady, comforting.
The rhythm seemed to ease the tension in him bit by bit, the coiled heat between them simmering into something warmer, gentler.
He could feel Anore's breathing slow, the sharp edges of want softening under the steady pull of sleep.
Still, Eiden didn't close his eyes.
He stayed awake, watching over him.
Outside, the night deepened, the world beyond their little cocoon fading into quiet. A car passed somewhere far below, its headlights slicing briefly across the wall before vanishing.
The clock on the nightstand ticked softly, each second a small reassurance that time hadn't stolen this moment yet.
Eiden leaned his head back against the headboard and let his thoughts wander. He knew there would be a time when he wouldn't be able to stop himself.
When Anore looked at him in that way again, and he was too far gone to pull back. The thought sent a shiver through him not of fear, but inevitability. He didn't think he could resist forever. But tonight… tonight wasn't about taking.
It was about holding.
The heat from Anore's body seeped through every layer between them, grounding Eiden in a way that felt dangerously addictive. He had gone so long without this, without someone fitting against him like they belonged there. And Anore, for all his sharp words and stubborn pride, fit perfectly.
Eiden shifted slightly, adjusting the blanket so it covered Anore's shoulder. His hair brushed against Eiden's chin, and without thinking, he pressed a slow kiss to the crown of his head. Anore made a small, almost imperceptible sound, not quite awake, but aware enough to respond.
The sound undid him.
He closed his eyes briefly, breathing in deep through his nose. He wanted to remember everything about this, the exact weight of Anore in his arms, the warmth of his breath against his collarbone, the way the air between them seemed to hum quietly even in stillness. He wanted to keep it, hoard it, like something too rare to risk losing.
Minutes slipped by in silence. The town outside seemed to hush in respect for the fragile peace in their room. Eiden's gaze lingered on the faint lines of exhaustion under Anore's eyes, the shadows that told a story he still didn't know all of.
There was more to him, more than the push and pull of their attraction, more than the teasing remarks and moments of heated tension. And Eiden wanted all of it. Wanted to know every side of him.
He tightened his hold just slightly, enough to feel the reassuring solidity of Anore against him.
"I've got you.." he whispered into the quiet, though he doubted Anore could hear him now.
And he meant it, in this bed, in this moment, and beyond. He didn't know how to promise forever without saying the words, so he let his touch speak for him.
Eventually, his own body began to relax, the constant edge of restraint easing into something softer.
But even as sleep crept closer, Eiden stayed half-aware, the kind of rest that kept one arm firmly around the person beside him. Just in case.
If Anore stirred in the night, he would be here.
If he woke unsettled, Eiden's presence would be the first thing he felt.
The night might be long, but Eiden could endure it.
The warmth still lingered in the sheets when Anore stirred awake. His lashes fluttered open to the soft morning light spilling through the curtains.
For a moment, he lay there unmoving, letting the quiet sink into him. His body felt lighter, his mind clearer, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, the fog of restless nights was gone. This… this might have been one of his best sleeps in years.
A small smile tugged at his lips, but when he turned to the side, the space beside him was empty.
The pillow still held the faintest trace of warmth, a quiet reminder that Eiden had been there.
Anore's chest tightened in an emotion he didn't want to name.
Running his fingers through his hair, he exhaled softly. The memory of last night came unbidden, the way Eiden had kissed him, over and over, until his sobs had stilled.
The solid weight of his arms around him, the warmth that had seeped into his bones, grounding him when everything had felt like it was slipping away.
He lingered on that feeling for just a moment longer before swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
The cool air of the room kissed his skin as he padded toward the door. His fingers had just closed around the knob when it turned from the other side.
The door swung open, and there stood Eiden, framed in the doorway.
Anore's head dipped instinctively, his gaze falling to the floor. His pulse picked up, not from fear, but from the sudden rush of awareness.
Eiden didn't say a word at first. Instead, he reached out, his fingers tilting Anore's chin upward until their eyes met.
"Did you sleep well?" Eiden's voice was calm, but there was a subtle undercurrent of concern. "The physician is here. I want to check on your health. Yesterday—"