Page 36 of Deviled Eggs

“Mmm… we gotta get up. We worked up an appetite last night, and I’m hungry,” I murmur against the nape of Micah’s neck as he pulls in a sleepy breath, stretching his back like a cat. He rolls in my arms to face me as he pouts.

“Why do we have to leave this warm bed? You can have me for breakfast.” I chuckle as I push his hair out of his face. The white strands are a wild, tangled mess. Its normally smooth texture is disrupted by knots and stray hairs.

I prefer this version of him.

Mussed hair, pillow crease on his cheek, and what might be a drop of dried drool on the corner of his mouth. The weight of the world hasn’t hit him yet, and his sleepy eyes are full of a relaxed happiness that changes his entire appearance.

“As much as I’d love to sustain myself indefinitely on that juicy ass…” I give a slap to his bare cheek that makes him yelp. “… I need some actual food.”

“Room service?” he asks hopefully, and I laugh again as I hug him into my chest.

“This isn’t the Heavenly realm, Micah, and I’m not important enough to live somewhere with servants at my beck and call. If we want to eat, we have to make it.”

“Make it?” He sounds aghast, which only makes me laugh harder. “I like it when you do that,” he whispers.

“Do what?” I brush a kiss on his forehead.

“Laugh.”

It hits me then—how much I’ve laughed with him since we came back from that disastrous mission. I’m light in a way I haven’t been in years… in as long as I can remember. “Let’s get some breakfast, angel.”

We climb out of bed, and I marvel again at the perfect planes of his body. The early morning sun comes through the window, shining off every defined muscle. He darts into the bathroom and shoots me a mischievous grin as he steals my toothbrush and scrubs his mouth, and I hip check him aside as I steal it back.

“I’m filthy,” he says with a wrinkled nose, once we both brush our teeth.

“Yeah, you are.” I smack his ass again and he jolts, glaring at me as I walk over to start the shower. We climb under the warm water and take turns washing each other. Micah jerks with a squeak and loses his balance as I swipe a soapy hand up his ass crack. A booming blast of a laugh leaves me as I catch him. It earns me a glare, but I promptly wash it away with a long kiss under the spray. After we’re clean, we dry off and I redraw the tally marks on his thighs, placing a kiss over each of them.

Micah’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him as I toss him sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear, even if he wrinkles his nose at them. “Say something, I dare you.” I challenge him with a raised brow, but he only shakes his head and grins at me. He pulls them on without complaint, and the beast inside me purrs at seeing him in my clothes. Once we’re both dressed, I sit on the edge of the bed and spread my legs, gesturing to the space between them.

His eyes light up and he obediently sinks onto his knees and drags his palms up my thighs, but I catch his wrists before he makes it to my cock. “As much as I love seeing those perfect lips hard at work, I had something else in mind.”

His brows scrunch as I turn him and guide him to sit on the floor, facing away from me. “What are we doing?”

I pull the hairbrush out and drag it through his long, damp hair, and he hums a contented sound at the sensation. “What’s something no one knows about you?” I ask, and he getsquiet as I brush his hair. When I start to divide it into sections, he twists to glance at me curiously. “Sisters, remember?”

“You’re fixing my hair?”

“Braiding it,” I explain, leaning down to kiss his cheek before steering his head to face forward again. “Now, stop dodging the question.”

He’s quiet for a minute while he thinks. “I’ve always wanted someone to take me dancing,” he finally says, and I say nothing, only continue to weave the sections of hair as I listen. “That’s silly, isn’t it? Such a pointless activity.”

“It’s not pointless if you want to do it.” I keep my voice gentle as he gives a small nod. “Not everything has to serve a purpose, Micah. Sometimes, it’s okay just to have fun.”

“I’m not very good at having fun,” he says, and I hate how sad he sounds.

“I beg to differ. I’m having a great time.”

Even from my position behind him, I can see his cheeks rise in a smile. “Despite my vast age, I haven’t ever had a proper relationship,” he confesses. “No one has ever stuck around, and I never cared enough to chase them when they left. I know I’m hard to deal with, Xal. People don’t voluntarily spend time with me. The fact that you’re even tolerating me—”

“Hey now… don’t put words in my mouth. Who said anything about tolerating you? Last night was incredible.”

“Yes, it was,” he whispers with a sigh. “But you’ll grow tired of me too, Xalreth. I’m not foolish enough to believe otherwise, though I’m afraid…” He trails off, his shoulders drooping.

“You’re afraid…?” I nudge, fingers moving nimbly now as I get closer to the bottom of the braid.

“I’m afraid this one is going to hurt.” Emotions ball in my throat as I fight to get myself under control, tying the end of his hair.

“I won’t—”

---