My eyes stay closed, my head resting on my kitten's shoulder. God… this feeling—his warmth pressing into me, his scent brushing against my cheek—it's like drifting in heaven. I hold his hand tighter, refusing to let even a thread of distance grow between us.
He exhales, long and tired.
"Rion… how long are you planning to lie on me like this? I'm already exhausted."
My eyes open slowly. I lift my head, just enough to look at him. His expression is half-dead, half-annoyed, but his eyes… his eyes are always soft to me, even when he tries to hide it.
I straighten, pretending to examine his shoulder.
"Did I hurt you, kitten?"
He stretches lazily, rolling his shoulder once.
"No. I'm fine. Now go."
Go?
I let out a soft exhale—half a sigh, half a whine—and lean back into the couch.
"I don't want to," I murmur. "I want to stay with you. I feel so lonely without you."
