New toys!

The scent of lavender and something distinctly citrusy, a blend Zoid had concocted for the bedroom, still clung to the air. Sunlight, buttery and warm, spilled through the open window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the quiet aftermath. Zoid stretched, a languid arch of their back, and found Luke already awake, propped against a mountain of pillows, his emerald eyes tracking Zoid’s movements with a soft, possessive warmth. The remnants of their shared night, a tangle of limbs and whispered confessions, were still imprinted on their skins, a delicious secret held between them.

“Morning,” Luke murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Zoid’s bones. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of Zoid’s hip, a gentle possessiveness that made Zoid’s breath hitch.

“Morning,” Zoid replied, leaning into his touch. The fear that had once coiled in their gut had long since unraveled, replaced by a comfortable nesting. Living together, sharing this space, this life, felt less like a risk and more like an inevitability, a natural extension of the fierce, tender bond they’d forged.