Chapter 410: The Bright Morning
Ache rippled through Xion’s body.
When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a bed.
The smooth sheets beneath him felt like silk, soft and gentle against his sore skin. But the arms around him were anything but. They clamped around his waist like the coils of a python around its prey.
As if that wasn’t enough, Darius had their legs entwined, pinning him in place. Xion was unable to move, let alone sit up.
Not that his spine, pressed to the sheets, would have allowed him to attempt such a daunting task.
A sudden flush crept across his face at the notion that both of them were still very entangled — and very naked — under the warm sheets.
He should have been protesting, really. Maybe wriggling away, but instead, he felt safe, cocooned in that crushing embrace.
He sighed. His lips curled into a faint smile.
After all, breaking free from this grip was impossible. Both in body and in heart.
For all of the ferocity last night, the man now slept like a child. Too deep into whatever sweet dreams he was having.
Yeah, Xion didn’t want to know what kind of dreams they were as something half-awakened rubbed against his thigh.
Never asking about that, he mused to himself, trying to shift so the gun wouldn’t fire off early in the morning.
His body, though, protested even that.
Still sluggish and very much out of strength, Xion tilted his head only for the silver strands of hair to tickle his cheek.
Well, even the hair seemed to be tangling him.
Carefully, he brushed a lock of mischievous hair away and tucked it behind Darius’ ear.
Then he was abruptly struck by the beauty of his husband — the very first thing he properly saw that morning.
But was he complaining? Of course, not.
The sleeping elf merely grunted, rubbed his nose against the expanse of Xion’s cheek, and fell asleep again.
A bigger smile bloomed on Xion’s pink-tinted face.
From this close, he could see how the northern lord’s face relaxed against him. The sharp lines of his jaw softened by the pale dawn filtering through the curtains.
Without the usual intensity in his eyes, he looked almost... cute. Frail, even.
And he could also see how long those silver lashes were as they created a shadow over the high cheekbones.
However, what caught his primary attention wasn’t the handsomeness but the dark circles beneath those eyes.
His fingertips rubbed over them with so much gentleness, as if he were touching something delicate.
Perhaps Darius Rael Darkhelm, for all the tough shell he wrapped himself in, was really just a fragile little boy.
The same boy who had once lost control of his mana when Silas and that group of kids had threatened little angel Xion in his past life.
That habit — that intense protective instinct — hadn’t changed even a little.
When Xion had been blind, he had been too focused on his own despair to notice.
In this moment, he could see it all.
How many sleepless nights Darius must have spent sitting beside him. How the Archduke had gently run his fingers through his hair just so he could sleep peacefully.
Even when Xion had been under the haze of medication, dizzy and drowsy most of the time, he had felt Darius jolt awake, gasping for breath as if dragged from nightmares.
Xion’s own actions had carried the Archduke deeper into that cave of nightmares, and he had almost sealed the only opening with his own hands.
I did that, Xion thought bitterly.
It had been a terrible idea to confess his suicidal attempt, and yet... thankfully, his gamble had been worth it.
Or he would have never been able to forgive himself.
"I promise, Darius. I’ll make everything right."
"You already have," came a groggy reply.
At some point, when Xion had been absentmindedly tracing Darius’ face, the sleeping elf had woken up.
When those eyes blinked at him, all he could see was intense love and satisfaction.
Darius looked happy.
And Xion had to admit, despite the shame curling his toes, Darius looked utterly satiated.
"Good morning, my sweetheart."
A low purring of rumbling voice and a kiss on his nose made Xion giggle.
"Good morning. And now that you are awake, kindly keep your hands to yourself. I want to get up."
"Can’t," Darius mumbled, snuggling closer, and by now, he had practically buried his whole face into Xion’s neck.
"Why can’t you?"
"Not ’I can’t,’ but more of a ’you can’t’ thing."
Xion groaned when the sneaky elf suddenly bit him just below his ear.
"Hey! Let me go."
The Archduke laughed when Xion hit him lightly on the head. Of course, right after, the sweet healer’s hand immediately rubbed the same spot in apology.
"What I mean is, you can’t get up on your own, sweetheart. I’ll carry you. Just give me five more minutes."
"You’re insatiable," Xion muttered, trying not to smile.
"Yes, for you, my lord, I am," Darius said, lips curving against his skin as he kissed him with more intensity. "And you’re not going anywhere."
"...Only because I can’t move."
Darius pulled back just enough to arch an eyebrow at him. "That’s the only reason you’re staying in my arms?" While saying, he moved his leg and wedged his knee between Xion’s thighs.
A startled moan spilled from those bitten lips, only spurring Darius to rub higher, his grin curling with wicked satisfaction. "See? You didn’t even resist. Only parted your legs like the good boy you are."
Xion’s face heated to a painful shade of crimson. Because, yes, he really didn’t think of protesting.
Actually, there wasn’t even a little bit of resistance in his heart, and if Darius had pushed it a bit, Xion might have ended up letting the Archduke do whatever he wished.
Even when his body was already on the verge of breaking apart.
Much to Xion’s embarrassment, he was, in his own twisted way, obsessed with his dear elf. He had been for two lifetimes.
First with the goddess and then with the Aijawa family, neither of his childhoods had taught him how to express romantic love openly.
So, he could only do it in his own way. By surrounding himself utterly and completely.