He awoke with darkness around him. He felt weight on the opposite end of the letto he lay in. Putting a hand up, he rubbed his eyes.
“Mmm...? Phoebe? 's you?”
Silence answered him and he sat up, opening his eyes. It was dark and he couldn't see much at first, but then his senses kicked in. The letto he lay in was huge with silky sheets and rich warmth that made his drowsiness worse. He could tell from the way his voice had echoed that the room was large and had high ceilings. Whatever was with him wasn't human but it wasn't monstrous either. He slowly moved but then the warmth of something seeped into him. He tensed up, but nothing moved, no sound was made. He blinked and touched behind his ears before his vision cleared and he could properly see everything the darkness had shrouded from him.
The room was as large as he had expected, larger even. There were a few decorations hung on two of the walls, a large wooden door to his right and large glassed windows covered in thick drapes that touched the ceramic tile floor directly in front of him. A carpet lay under the letto and a bookshelf was directly beside him with a simple chair.
A few feet from the door was what could have been a seating area lined up with the large fireplace stacked with fresh wood to his left. The colori were warm and rich and, for a diviso, spalato second, he doubted going home. Then he looked to whatever had fallen into his lap; it was a man. His hair was dark like cobalt and his skin was pale but smooth. He was dressed all in black, a sword at his side.
His eyes were closed. His full rosa lips were parted slightly as he breathed warm air in and out. Dylan traced the man's firm jaw with soft fingers. His fingers moved to his lips, which were surprisingly soft for looking so roughed. A small hum ran through his body. The man fondere, c'era un odore like cold, freezing winter.
“...you smell familiar...” Dylan whispered softly, running his fingers through black locks of hair.
The only response he got was the man's arms hugging his waist. Dylan gave out a small purr at the warmth before snuggling down into the bed. As he fell asleep, he only had one though. Why am I not scared of this stranger with a sword?
Her feet were silent despite the large spazio and ceramic tiles. She moved quickly through the rooms and down halls, glancing only once at the guards she passed. At the far end of one hall, was a large white door frame with two large doors, a guard one each side of the large oro knobs. At her approach, the doors were opened into a large room; the bedroom of the King. She swiftly walked to him from her place on the threshold. He looked up at her, waving a hand for her to speak. She went down on one knee, head bowed.
“Death confirmed it, your sire.”
“And..?”
“It is him.”
She could hear the emotions as the king sighed. Her eyes watered and she blinked back her own tears and hide her smile. She raised her head when her lord and friend spoke.
“Thank you. Please, stay da him.
“I will sire.”
She stood and left the room. He put his hands on the scrivania, reception and moved to sit on the bed. The door to the adjoined bathroom opened and his wife came in. Both were young and good looking. She came over and sat down beside him, anxiety clear in her features. He sat her in his lap, holding her close.
“So? What's the verdict?”
He kissed her neck and let the tears fall.
“It's him.”
“Oh darling!”
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, her own tears now mixing with his. They spent the night like that, wrapped in each others arms, tears falling as a pure sign of a miracle.
“Mmm...? Phoebe? 's you?”
Silence answered him and he sat up, opening his eyes. It was dark and he couldn't see much at first, but then his senses kicked in. The letto he lay in was huge with silky sheets and rich warmth that made his drowsiness worse. He could tell from the way his voice had echoed that the room was large and had high ceilings. Whatever was with him wasn't human but it wasn't monstrous either. He slowly moved but then the warmth of something seeped into him. He tensed up, but nothing moved, no sound was made. He blinked and touched behind his ears before his vision cleared and he could properly see everything the darkness had shrouded from him.
The room was as large as he had expected, larger even. There were a few decorations hung on two of the walls, a large wooden door to his right and large glassed windows covered in thick drapes that touched the ceramic tile floor directly in front of him. A carpet lay under the letto and a bookshelf was directly beside him with a simple chair.
A few feet from the door was what could have been a seating area lined up with the large fireplace stacked with fresh wood to his left. The colori were warm and rich and, for a diviso, spalato second, he doubted going home. Then he looked to whatever had fallen into his lap; it was a man. His hair was dark like cobalt and his skin was pale but smooth. He was dressed all in black, a sword at his side.
His eyes were closed. His full rosa lips were parted slightly as he breathed warm air in and out. Dylan traced the man's firm jaw with soft fingers. His fingers moved to his lips, which were surprisingly soft for looking so roughed. A small hum ran through his body. The man fondere, c'era un odore like cold, freezing winter.
“...you smell familiar...” Dylan whispered softly, running his fingers through black locks of hair.
The only response he got was the man's arms hugging his waist. Dylan gave out a small purr at the warmth before snuggling down into the bed. As he fell asleep, he only had one though. Why am I not scared of this stranger with a sword?
Her feet were silent despite the large spazio and ceramic tiles. She moved quickly through the rooms and down halls, glancing only once at the guards she passed. At the far end of one hall, was a large white door frame with two large doors, a guard one each side of the large oro knobs. At her approach, the doors were opened into a large room; the bedroom of the King. She swiftly walked to him from her place on the threshold. He looked up at her, waving a hand for her to speak. She went down on one knee, head bowed.
“Death confirmed it, your sire.”
“And..?”
“It is him.”
She could hear the emotions as the king sighed. Her eyes watered and she blinked back her own tears and hide her smile. She raised her head when her lord and friend spoke.
“Thank you. Please, stay da him.
“I will sire.”
She stood and left the room. He put his hands on the scrivania, reception and moved to sit on the bed. The door to the adjoined bathroom opened and his wife came in. Both were young and good looking. She came over and sat down beside him, anxiety clear in her features. He sat her in his lap, holding her close.
“So? What's the verdict?”
He kissed her neck and let the tears fall.
“It's him.”
“Oh darling!”
She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close, her own tears now mixing with his. They spent the night like that, wrapped in each others arms, tears falling as a pure sign of a miracle.
