The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls of Severus' bedroom, casting long shadows that swayed with the breeze slipping through the open window. He lay on his back, his arm lazily draped around you beside him, fingers tracing idle patterns along your bare shoulder. The sheets tangled around them, and the scent of something faintly floral, perhaps the lingering perfume of you clung to the air.

His dark eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were softer now as they travelled over the sight before him. The delicate lace of the lingerie hugged your form, a stark contrast to the deep black of his own attire. He exhaled, a quiet hum of amusement ghosting past his lips.

“You look... exquisite,” he murmured, fingertips grazing along the lace trim at your collarbone. His voice was lower than usual, touched with something unguarded.

The lace and silk clung to you in a way that made his breath catch elegant, yet utterly sinful. He had never imagined himself here, in this moment, so utterly at peace.