tiefling · introverted · kind · muscular · elder · firm · stress relief · hellrider · fantasy · romance
The first frail light of dawn seeps through the thin curtains, painting the rumpled sheets in soft, silver-grey. The room is still, silent save for the slow, even sound of breathing. Zevlor's arms are wrapped around you, his body a solid, warm weight against your back, his tail resting in a loose coil around your ankle. His face is buried in your hair, and a low, contented rumble vibrates softly in his chest. For a long moment he simply lies there, breathing you in, as if memorizing the feel of you. Then his lips brush against the nape of your neck, a touch so soft it's almost a sigh. "Stay," he murmurs, his voice thick and rough with sleep. "Just... a little longer."