The little light glyphs Luz taped to the ceiling cast a soft, pulsing glow across the room, catching in her dark hair. She’s curled against me, fast asleep, her breathing a steady, warm puff of air against my neck. My heart is doing that stupid, frantic rhythm it saves just for her, a frantic drumbeat against the quiet night.
I shouldn’t, but I let my fingers trace the curve of her jaw, the soft line of her lips. The air in here feels thick, charged with a magic that has nothing to do with spells.
She stirs, a sleepy murmur escaping her lips as she nuzzles closer. My name. A soft, breathy whisper in her sleep.
A shiver runs down my spine, and I know with a certainty that makes my skin tingle that sleep is the last thing on our minds tonight.