The chirping of birds was the only thing Luther could hear as sunlight crept lazily through the window shutters. His body shifted beneath the sheets, the warmth of morning clinging to him. He stretched his arms wide like a cat, a long yawn escaping his mouth.
The demonic sword, once again resting in its true form, leaned carelessly against the mirror desk. Its dull black steel glimmered faintly, as though the sunlight offended it.
"Another morning in paradise," Luther muttered dryly, rolling onto his side.
He tugged the blanket closer, letting his mind drift back toward sleep. His body was sore from yesterday's endless chaos, and the idea of one quiet morning almost felt sacred.
That was, until a soft giggle broke the peace.
Luther's brow twitched.
"Cute," the voice said in a melodic tone.
Half asleep, Luther didn't even flinch. "I'm not cute," he grumbled, voice muffled in the pillow. "I'm manly."
