October 16th, 8:00 AM
Nana woke slowly, awareness returning in stages.
First: soreness. A deep, pleasant ache in muscles she didn't normally use, a reminder of activities that had gone well into the early morning hours.
Second: warmth. Xavier's body pressed against her side, radiating heat like a personal furnace.
Third: memories. Oh. OH. Last night. All of last night. Multiple times. Her face immediately flushed bright red.
Nana opened her eyes carefully, turning her head to look at her husband.
Xavier was still asleep, lying on his back with one arm thrown over his head, his silver hair messy and falling across his forehead. The morning light painted him in shades of gold, highlighting every line and angle of his face.
And his body.
His very shirtless, very marked body.
Nana's blush deepened as she catalogued the evidence of their night scattered across Xavier's skin. Faint red marks on his neck. Scratches on his shoulders (had she done that? Oh god, she had). Her own love bites decorating his collarbone and chest.
He looked thoroughly loved.
Thoroughly claimed.
Thoroughly hers.
And somehow, despite being a former Crown Star who'd ruled kingdoms and commanded armies, Xavier looked absolutely adorable while sleeping. His expression was peaceful, almost innocent, with none of the intensity he carried while awake.
Nana couldn't resist. She reached out and poked his cheek gently.
No response. Xavier slept like the dead when he was truly relaxed.
She poked again. His nose twitched but his eyes stayed closed.
"Xavier," Nana whispered, poking his cheek a third time. "Are you awake?"
"Mmph," was the eloquent response. Xavier's arm moved blindly, found Nana, and pulled her against his chest without opening his eyes. "Sleep."
"It's morning."
"Don't care. Sleep."
"Xavier, you're crushing me."
"Good. Mine. Stay."
Nana giggled at the possessive mumbling. Xavier was always clingy when half-asleep, refusing to let go until he was fully conscious. It was adorable and slightly inconvenient in equal measure.
She tried to shift to a more comfortable position, and Xavier immediately adjusted, rolling onto his side and using Nana's chest as a pillow. His face pressed against her like she was the world's most comfortable cushion, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist.
"Much better," Xavier mumbled, already drifting back toward sleep. "Soft. Warm. Mine."
"I'm not a pillow," Nana protested, but she was already running her fingers through his hair. It was so soft, silky smooth despite the bedhead mess. She'd always loved Xavier's hair—the unusual color, the way it caught light, the softness.
Xavier made a pleased sound at her touch, nuzzling closer.
"Best pillow. Perfect. Starlight pillow."
"You're ridiculous."
"Mmm. Love you. Sleepy."
"I love you too, you overgrown cat."
Xavier seemed perfectly content to use her as a pillow indefinitely, his breathing evening out as he dozed. Nana let him, enjoying the peaceful moment, the warmth of his body, the simple domesticity of morning-after cuddles.
His hair kept tickling her neck, making her squirm. Xavier's grip tightened automatically, keeping her in place.
"Stop moving. Trying to sleep."
"Your hair tickles."
"Suffer."
"Xavier!"
"Love you. But also sleep. Negotiations later."
Nana laughed softly and gave up trying to move.
Xavier had always been impossible in the mornings, even across multiple lifetimes. In Philos, young Xavier had been notorious for napping in inappropriate places. In the Qing Dynasty, he'd refused to attend morning court sessions, delegating them to advisors so he could sleep in.
Some things truly never changed.
She continued stroking his hair, feeling his body relax completely against hers. An hour passed. Xavier showed no signs of waking up.
"Xavier," Nana tried again. "We should get up. It's almost 9 AM."
"No."
"We need breakfast."
"Later."
"Xavier—"
"Starlight, I spent all night loving you thoroughly. I'm tired. Let me sleep on my favorite pillow." Xavier's voice was clearer now, less sleepy, but he still didn't open his eyes. "Please? Just a little longer?"
How could she refuse when he asked like that?
"Fine. But only because you're cute when you're clingy."
"Not cute. Masculine. Dangerous. Crown Star."
"You're literally using me as a teddy bear right now."
"Masculine teddy bear usage."
Nana giggled and resigned herself to being a human pillow for the foreseeable future.
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⭐⭐⭐
An Hour Later - Kitchen Disaster
Xavier finally woke properly around 10 AM, lifting his head from Nana's chest with a sleepy smile.
"Morning, Starlight."
"Good morning, sleepyhead. Enjoy your nap?"
"Best sleep of my life. You make an excellent pillow." Xavier stretched, his joints popping, then immediately pulled Nana close for a proper kiss. "How do you feel? Sore?"
"Very," Nana admitted, blushing. "But good sore. Happy sore."
Xavier's smile was pure masculine satisfaction. "Good. That was—" He paused, seeming to search for words. "That was everything I've waited a century for. You were perfect."
"You weren't so bad yourself," Nana teased, running her fingers down his chest and watching him shiver. "Very thorough. Very attentive. Very—"
"If you keep touching me like that, we're not leaving this bed," Xavier warned, his voice dropping an octave.
"We need food. I'm starving."
"Fine." Xavier sighed dramatically but rolled out of bed. "I'll make breakfast. You rest."
"Xavier, you can't cook."
"I can cook! I'll make—" He paused, considering. "Egg tarts. You love egg tarts."
"Xavier. Egg tarts require baking."
"So? I can bake. How hard can it be?"
Nana watched her husband—still gloriously shirtless and covered in marks—march determinedly toward the kitchen and had a terrible premonition of disaster.She was not wrong.
Twenty minutes later, the smoke alarm was screaming.
"XAVIER?!"
Nana scrambled out of bed, grabbed Xavier's discarded hoodie from the floor (it smelled like him and was incredibly oversized on her), and ran toward the kitchen.
She found Xavier standing in front of their oven, looking bewildered, while smoke poured out. The egg tarts he'd attempted were... well, they were black. Completely charred. And somehow the oven itself was smoking.
"How," Nana said slowly, "did you manage to burn the oven?"
"I don't know!" Xavier ran his hands through his hair, looking genuinely distressed.
"I followed a recipe! I measured everything! But then I might have set the temperature too high? And forgotten about them? I was distracted thinking about last night and—"
He stopped, his ears turning bright red as he realized what he'd admitted.
Nana burst out laughing. "You burned breakfast because you were daydreaming about sex?"
"About loving my wife," Xavier corrected with as much dignity as he could muster while standing in a smoke-filled kitchen.
"There's a difference."
"Sure there is." Nana moved to open windows, letting the smoke dissipate.
"Xavier, why egg tarts? Why not something simple like toast?"
"You like egg tarts. I wanted to make you happy."
Her heart melted despite the disaster.
"I'm already happy. But maybe we should order takeout?"
"Probably wise," Xavier admitted. He pulled out his phone to order breakfast, then froze. His eyes had locked on Nana—specifically on her neck and collarbone, visible above the hoodie's collar.
"What?" Nana asked, suddenly self-conscious.
Xavier's face was turning progressively redder. "Did I—" He gestured vaguely at her neck. "Last night, did I—"
Nana went to check in the reflective surface of the microwave. Her eyes widened.
Marks. So many marks. Her neck looked like a map of Xavier's devotion—faint bruises, love bites, and oh god, was that a BITE MARK on her collarbone?
"XAVIER!"
"I'm sorry!" Xavier looked mortified and slightly proud simultaneously.
"You were just—you tasted so good and I got carried away and—"
"I have a gallery exhibition next week! How am I supposed to attend with—" Nana gestured at her neck. "With THIS?"
"Turtleneck?" Xavier suggested weakly.
"It's October. In a heated gallery. Xavier!"
"Concealer? Makeup? A very strategic scarf?"
Xavier was grasping at straws. Then his expression shifted to something more possessive, his blue eyes darkening.
"Or you could just let everyone see. Let them know you're thoroughly loved. Thoroughly claimed. Thoroughly mine."
"Xavier!"
"It's your fault for being too beautiful,"
Xavier said, completely serious now. "I couldn't help myself. You were so—" He made an inarticulate gesture. "So perfect. And I wanted to mark you. Wanted everyone to know you're mine. Is that so wrong?"
"You sound like a possessive caveman."
"I'm a possessive Crown Star. Close enough."
Xavier crossed the kitchen, pulled Nana into his arms. "And you're my Starlight. Mine to love. Mine to mark. Mine to—"
"If you're about to suggest a repeat of last night, I need food first."
Xavier laughed, the sound warm and happy. "Fine. Food first. Then—" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're insatiable."
"I'm making up for five lifetimes."
Xavier kissed her neck, right over one of his marks.
"We have a lot of lost time to account for, Starlight. I plan to be very thorough about it."
Nana shivered at his tone.
"Food. Now. Or I'm too weak to do anything."
"Can't have that." Xavier ordered an elaborate breakfast delivery, then they settled on the couch to wait, Nana curled against Xavier's side, both of them still in various states of undress.
"I really do love you," Nana said softly. "Even when you burn down the kitchen trying to make egg tarts."
"I love you too. Even when you protest my marking you while wearing my hoodie and looking adorable."
"I'm not adorable. I'm fierce."
"You're fierce AND adorable. It's very confusing." Xavier pressed a kiss to her temple. "But mostly you're mine. My wife. My Starlight. My everything."
"Yours," Nana agreed, snuggling closer. "Always yours."
They stayed like that until breakfast arrived—too comfortable to move, too happy to care about anything beyond this moment. Just two souls who'd loved each other across five lifetimes, finally getting to enjoy the simple, domestic, perfect morning after forever.
Even if that morning included smoke alarms, burned egg tarts, and questionable amounts of visible love marks.
It was theirs.
And that made it perfect.
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To be continued __