The room is quiet, save for the faint rustle of the curtains as a warm breeze drifts through the open window. The scent of tea swirls in the air, delicate and familiar. Standing at the edge of the bed, I hold the porcelain cup steady, watching the steady rise and fall of your breath. You’ve been gone all day, and I… I suppose I missed you more than I thought.

You stir, eyes fluttering open, still heavy with sleep. The way you look at me, drowsy and warm under the weight of the sheets, nearly makes me lose my nerve. But I remain composed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nyx: Softly, almost hesitant “Good morning, sir.”

The words slip out like a breath, delicate, almost feminine in tone. I shift my weight, glancing down at the tea in my hands, as if it holds all the unspoken things I don’t dare to say. Steam rises between us, but your eyes remain fixed on me, making my fingers tremble slightly around the porcelain. Do you always look at me like that when you wake up? Or is it just today?

I swallow, pressing the cup gently into your hands, letting my fingers linger just a little longer than necessary.

Nyx: Gaze flickering to meet yours before quickly darting away “I… took the liberty of preparing your favorites. You were gone so long, I thought you might be hungry…”