The first thing Selene became aware of was a deep, pleasant ache humming through her body. It was a comprehensive soreness, centered between her legs but radiating outwards to her muscles, a satisfying testament to the night's activities. She blinked her eyes open, the grogginess of sleep and the remnants of alcohol receding like a tide.
She was not on the couch.
The luxurious softness beneath her was a proper bed. Lyra's bed. The sheets were a high thread count cotton, cool and smooth against her bare skin. Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow on the room. It was impeccably tidy, with a quiet, understated elegance that was so inherently Lyra; polished wooden floors, a neatly organized bookshelf, everything in its place.
As she stretched, a cascade of sensations returned to her. The memory of Lyra's hands, her mouth, the whispered words of consent that had made everything that followed feel not just passionate, but sacred. Her eyes drifted down her own body, and a flush of heat warmed her cheeks. There, on the pale skin of her inner thigh, was a faint, purple kiss mark. Another bloomed on her collarbone. Small, tender bruises; marks of ownership, of a hunger finally unleashed.
A soft, incredulous smile touched her lips. Lyra had moved her here after she'd fallen asleep. The care in that simple act, not leaving her on the couch, spoke volumes.
She sat up slowly, the sheet pooling around her waist. The room was empty, but filled with Lyra's presence. Her gaze wandered, taking in the serene space, when it landed on the bedside table.
Next to a small lamp lay an object that made her breath catch.
It was a pendant, but unlike any she had ever seen. It was metallic, but seemed to hold light within it, shimmering with a soft, internal luminescence that shifted between silver and a deep, oceanic blue. Its shape was organic, almost like a twisted, ancient key or a fossilized leaf from a world that did not exist. It felt profoundly old and utterly out of place in this modern, minimalist room.
Hesitantly, Selene reached out. The moment her fingertips brushed its surface, a jolt, not of electricity, but of pure sensation, shot up her arm. It was warm, and for a fleeting second, a dizzying array of images flashed behind her eyes; a star filled night sky unfamiliar to her, the scent of rain on dry earth, a feeling of immense longing. She snatched her hand back, her heart hammering.
What is that?
Before her racing mind could form a theory, the bedroom door opened softly.
Lyra stood in the doorway, already dressed in soft linen pants and a simple tank top, two mugs of steaming coffee in her hands. Her dark hair was damp from a shower, and her expression was a mixture of soft concern and a new, breathtaking tenderness.
"You are awake," she said, her voice a gentle rumble. "How are you feeling?" Her eyes did a quick, appreciative scan of Selene, lingering on the marks she had left on her skin, and a faint blush colored her own cheeks.
Selene's worry about the object momentarily vanished under the warmth of that look. "I am; spectacularly sore," she admitted, a shy smile playing on her lips. "In the best way possible. Did you... carry me in here?"
Lyra set the mugs down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. Her hand found Selene's, lacing their fingers together. "You were dead to the world on the couch. It did not seem right to leave you there." She brushed her thumb over Selene's knuckles. "And after last night... you deserved to sleep in a proper bed."
The simple statement, filled with such care, made Selene's heart swell. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing Lyra's hand.
Lyra leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. It was a kiss of morning breath and coffee and something profoundly new and settled between them.
As she pulled away, Selene's eyes flickered back to the mysterious pendant. "Lyra... what is that?"
Lyra's gaze followed hers. Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly, a shadow of her old guardedness returning. She picked up the pendant, her fingers closing around it protectively.
"It is... personal," she said, her voice quieter. "An heirloom." It was clearly an evasion, but her tone was not cold; it was pleading, asking for patience without words.
Selene felt the pull to know more, to understand the source of that strange energy. But seeing the vulnerability in Lyra's eyes, she chose trust instead of pressure. She nodded, accepting the boundary. "Okay," she said softly. "It is beautiful."
The relief on Lyra's face was immediate. She offered Selene a mug. "It is also none of your business right now. Drink your coffee."
Selene laughed, taking the mug. The rich aroma filled her senses. "Yes, ma am."
Just then, Lyra's phone, sitting next to the tray, buzzed with an incoming text. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she read. A small, amused smirk tugged at her lips.
"Speaking of heirlooms and chaos," Lyra said, looking up at Selene with a wry expression. "It is from my friend, Ariana. The one I picked up from the airport."
Selene's stomach did a guilty flip. "Oh. Is everything okay?"
Lyra let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Apparently, she just spent the night playing nurse to a very drunk, very emotional Eliza at a hotel after you left the beach party."
Selene's eyes went wide. "What?"
"Mmhmm," Lyra hummed, scrolling through the message. "According to this, Eliza was... quite confessional. And sick. And then she tried to kiss Ariana, thinking she was you."
Selene clapped a hand over her mouth, a mixture of horror and secondhand embarrassment washing over her. "Oh, my God. Poor Ariana. Poor Eliza!"
Lyra set the phone down, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Ariana says she is fine, just... needed a strong coffee and a raise in her pay grade for emotional labor." She looked at Selene, her gaze intense. "It seems you have quite the effect on people, Selene Aether."
Selene groaned, falling back against the pillows. "I feel terrible. I never meant for any of that to happen."
Lyra leaned over her, bracing herself on her arms, her face hovering inches above Selene's. "What happened last night, between us, was our choice. What happened with Eliza is her story to figure out." She dipped her head and kissed Selene, slowly and deeply, effectively silencing any further guilt. "Now," she murmured against Selene's lips, "stop worrying about other women in my bed."
The possessiveness in her tone sent a fresh thrill through Selene. She smiled, pulling Lyra down for another kiss. "Yes, ma am."