Winter

I'm not sure what woke me, specifically. It may have been the light of a faint sunrise that would soon disappear, or it could have been the soreness in my body, in every tendon and bone, or it could have been the arm around me that shifted as its owner was stirring from sleep.

My eyes flutter open and I am greeted with the warmth of Morel at my side. His breath tickles my face, and his hair is splayed out around him. It's a joyful shade of cyan blue, and he smells faintly like sweat and jasmine.

"Morning," I say softly. It's a whisper, but his eyes open at the word, and his smile is a million suns dying and being born again, radiant and beautiful and lighting up my entire world, chasing back shadows and protecting me in the centre.

"Morning, love," Morel says, and my heart does a jump and a flip and a dive into my stomach. I laugh softly, and he just grins back at me.

I crinkle my nose and shove him lightly. "Shut up. That's a pet name."

"Oh, don't want them?" Morel teases. He knows I never wanted to show I liked them, but secretly loved them. They make me all fluttery inside. "Love? Babygirl? Sweetheart? Babe? Sl-"

I shove a hand into his nose and push his face away. "Shush."

"Aw, but you love me," he croons lowly, like a cat might. It's that tone of voice that makes me weak, and shivers run down my spine. I don't want to admit that he makes me so submissive and weak and shaky, and all it takes is a featherlight kiss on my neck to get me to whimper his name.

"Yeah, sure," I say, and he kisses me then.

Somehow, this one kiss is like a promise - a promise to love, a promise to protect, a promise to never leave. A promise from both of us. And it is the only promise I am interested in right then.

His lips are soft but still swollen and red, bitten and sensitive. I did that. He kisses me with a force like a hurricane, tongue and teeth and lips and friction and bodies sliding against each other. And I thought he'd be well and truly spent by now.

But I should know by now that Morel has endless amounts of energy, enough energy to match double that of mine at times. And he proves it now, and he proved it last night. In these moments we kiss, I feel like I've found a god, a god with shaking fingers and sweet lips that taste like sweets and jasmine and tangerine. A god not worthy of me, but has somehow chosen me as their partner, and all I can do is hope I shine bright enough to compare. But at the same time, I know he loves me because I don't fight to shine as bright.

When I'm with him, I'm in a place I've never been, flying to a safe haven where no one but him can find me. And I don't want it to end, not now, not ever.

|~~~|

I limp into the dining room, casting a glare to Morel from the corner of my eye. "I sincerely hope you're happy with yourself."

Morel is snickering into his hands. "I'm quite happy, yes."

I bare my teeth. "Not the point. Now everyone will know."

"What, that you're weak with me?" Morel kisses the space between my eyebrows, and I feel myself melt like putty. I can't stay mad at him when we're this close and he pleasured me so. But I still feel unsure about other faeries knowing. I don't want to endanger him, since he's a blood faerie, and I don't want to put our relationship at risk.

Is this what this is? A relationship? I sincerely want it to be. I want what we had back, in my hands, and under lock and key so nobody else can touch it but myself and Morel. Nobody deserves to see it, part of me says - but another side of me wants to show off how Morel is mine and I am his, and parade it around.

Which I'd say I'm doing a good job of right now, what with my limp and my red, bruised skin.

"You should be sincerely sorry for this," I say, laughing softly as I sit down for breakfast. "I look like a checkerboard."

"Well, you were tasty. I'll give you that," Morel teases, leaving my face and neck to flush with heat. Goodness me, this faerie has no filter at times.

I lean against him and yawn, blinking slowly. I'm exhausted, and for good reason. I hardly slept, and neither did he. But it's unfair, because he doesn't look tired at all, even though he got an hour or two of sleep at most.

"What?" He grins at me mischievously, a wide and crooked thing that I love and makes my insides twist into a knot. His affect on me is paralysing and mortifying. But I yearn for more.

"Nothing," I say with a huff, waving my hand. I grab some pastries and some berries. I'm glad Adras isn't down here yet. He might faint if he saw the state of my body and how closely we are sitting together. He's most likely already had breakfast, since it's rather late.

We took a while to get dressed and keep the clothes on.

I yawn again and smack my head into the table. "I'm so tired. God, Morel."

Morel laughs brightly, a cackle almost, but caring instead of harsh. But still teasing. "Well, I'd expect you to be tired, love."

I glare at him from beneath my arms, then shake my head and crack a smile. His affect on me is something else.

But then I frown as I spot something through the window. I sit up, frowning, my eyes narrowing. That isn't a faerie. How did it get in here? That's a human. And behind it...

I blanch, and sit up, kicking my chair over as I rush to the garden. An Irate chases a young boy up to the steps, and it catches him as he reaches the first step.

"Stand down!" I snarl, ignoring the flaming pain in my legs and waist. Dammit, Morel. I think it fondly, but this isn't the time. He's by my side, and he looks horrified.

The Irate doesn't move. The cloaked figure bares its teeth as the sword in its hands presses against the young boy's throat. Why isn't it listening to me?

"I said, stand DOWN!" I snarl, but it doesn't listen. It makes no move. A shiver of dread passes through me.

"ERENN!"

Adras goes shooting past, and Morel is lucky to have quick enough reflexes and be close enough to catch him. Adras struggles in his arms, his brown eyes wide and horrified, tears pricking his eyes. "Erenn, Erenn!!"

That's his brother. I stare at the boy before me. He's choking on his tears, he's covered in blood, he's shaking. The blade at his throat leaks blood down his chest and it drips onto the floor. "Adras-" he chokes.

The Irate hisses darkly. I raise my hand to try and speak to it, but it does not listen. What is happening?

I exchange a terrified glance with Morel. What's happening? Why is it here? Why won't it listen? Why does it have a human?

"Adras, please, listen to me," Erenn chokes, and every hair on my body stand up. This is a child. He's twelve. The Irate might kill him if I'm not careful about this.

"Please listen," he chokes out, sobbing as the sword presses ever closer. "Don't go back home. Don't go back home, don't go back-"

A spray of crimson liquid, and the Irate disappears. A lifeless, small body flops to the ground, and it is still, the only feeble movement it has is the wind rustling through his child-like hair.

Adras chokes on tears. He is not crying, there are no tears down his face. Not yet. I stare at the spot the child was standing, his words imprinted and stamped and scored into my brain. Don't go home. Don't go home.

Above us, the Great Night Cat begins to yowl.