Chapter 57: Morning
The following morning, Gabriel woke slowly, drifting up from the depths of a deep, dreamless sleep. The first thing he registered was warmth—the cozy heat of the furs piled around him, the gentle crackle of the fireplace, and the feeling of a soft, familiar weight pressing down on his waist.
He blinked his eyes open.
Lilith was sitting on top of him, straddling his waist, her white hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of moonlight. She wore nothing but a thin, silken robe that had slipped off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of her gray skin. Her crimson eyes were fixed on his face, her expression soft, adoring, almost reverent.
She was staring at him cutely. As if she could not get enough of this—of waking up to his face, of watching the slow transition from sleep to consciousness, of being the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Gabriel smiled—that slow, lazy smile that made her heart flutter even after all this time.
"Good morning, babe," he murmured. "How long have you been watching me?"
"Long enough," she said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his nose. "I never get tired of this."
"Of what?"
"Of you. Of us. Of waking up like this."
His arms came up to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. She let out a soft, pleased sound as their bodies pressed together, the thin fabric of her robe doing little to hide her warmth.
"You’re going to make me blush," he teased.
"Impossible. You’re too skinned."
"Well, you’re not that different, though."
She laughed—a bright, melodic sound that filled the room and chased away the last traces of sleep.
Gabriel’s hands moved from her waist to her hips, his fingers tracing lazy circles against her skin. Lilith shivered, her breath catching slightly. He could feel her heartbeat, quick and steady, through the thin layer of silk.
Then, with a sudden, fluid motion, he caught her by the waist and spun.
The world tilted. Lilith let out a surprised gasp as she found herself on her back, the furs soft beneath her, Gabriel now above her, his golden hair falling around his face like a halo. His eyes gleamed with mischief.
"Two can play at that game," he said, his voice low.
Lilith’s legs immediately locked behind him, pulling him closer. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs tracing the lines of his cheekbones.
"Cheater," she breathed.
"But you still like me despite this," he replied.
He stole her lips in a kiss.
It was not gentle. It was not hurried. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of hunger and affection, of belonging and desire. His lips moved against hers, slow and deep, tasting her warmth. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the connection.
His hands roamed over her body, tracing the curves of her waist, the dip of her spine, the soft swell of her hips. He knew every inch of her—knew where she was sensitive, where she shivered, where she sighed. His fingers found the knot of her robe and loosened it, letting the silk fall open.
Lilith arched into his touch, her breath coming faster. Her legs tightened around him, her heels pressing into his lower back.
They played—tangled together in the warmth of the furs, the fire casting dancing shadows across their entwined bodies. Their laughter and soft gasps filled the room, a melody of intimacy that only they could compose.
Minutes passed. Or hours. Time had no meaning when they were like this anyway.
Eventually, they separated, breathless and satisfied, their skin flushed with warmth. Gabriel pressed one last kiss to her forehead before rising from the bed.
"Bath?" he offered, extending his hand.
Lilith took it, letting him pull her to her feet. Her robe had fallen completely open, but she made no move to close it. She simply smiled at him, her crimson eyes gleaming with post-romance contentment.
"Bath," she agreed.
They moved to the luxurious bathroom, where the large soaking tub still steamed gently, fed by the natural hot springs. Gabriel tested the water with his hand—perfectly warm, perfectly inviting.
They slipped in together.
The water enveloped them, hot and soothing, carrying the faint scent of minerals and pine. Gabriel settled against the edge of the tub, his arms resting along the rim. Lilith sat between his legs, her back pressed to his chest, her silver hair floating around them like a halo.
He reached for a small bottle of scented oil—lavender and chamomile—and poured a few drops into his palm. His hands found her shoulders, working the oil into her skin, massaging away any lingering tension.
She melted against him, her eyes closing, a soft sigh escaping her lips.
"I could stay here forever," she murmured.
"So could I."
They soaked in silence for a while, the only sounds the gentle ripple of water and the crackle of the fire in the adjacent room.
A soft knock at the door announced the arrival of their breakfast.
Gabriel rose from the tub, water streaming down his golden skin, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He opened the door to find a hotel attendant with a large tray—fresh bread, fruit, cheese, cold cuts, and a pot of steaming tea.
He brought the tray to the edge of the tub and set it on a small wooden platform that had been placed there just for this purpose.
"Room service," he announced.
Lilith’s eyes lit up. She reached for a plump grape and popped it into her mouth. "Perfect."
Gabriel settled back into the water beside her. They ate together, sharing the bread, the cheese, the fruit. He held a slice of apple to her lips; she fed him a piece of cheese in return. The tea was warm and fragrant, and they sipped it from the same cup, their fingers brushing with each pass.
"This is the life," Lilith said, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"This is our life," Gabriel corrected gently.
"And it’s only beginning."
She looked up at him, her crimson eyes soft and sincere. "I love you, Gabriel."
He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I love you too, Lilith. Always."
