Silvy stirred as sunlight peeked through the gaps in the wooden walls of the elf guest room. She mumbled something incoherent, snuggling deeper into the warmth beside her.
The bedding was soft, the presence next to her even softer—solid, warm, reassuring.
Without thinking, she reached out, her hand seeking that comforting warmth.
And then—flesh.
Her fingers brushed against skin. Bare, smooth, warm skin.
Silvy froze.
Her eyes snapped open.
There, less than a hand's span away, was Kyle's sleeping face—peaceful, unguarded, with sunlight casting soft shadows across his features.
Her breath caught. Her mind blanked. And yet… she didn't move.
He looked nothing like the sarcastic man who always had a retort ready. Right now, he looked oddly young, his face relaxed and expressionless.
Fascination stirred in her. Her hand hovered near his face, almost trembling. Just a little touch—surely that wouldn't hurt?
But just as her fingers were about to brush his cheek, Kyle's eyes opened.
