Part-Time Beta Reader and Casual Co-Writer: Waffle (Thank you for being the bestest!)

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Kiss Of Snow

By: Swanna

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Chapter 38: The Tie That Binds

Hijikata sat alone by the low table in the inn room, the lantern light casting eerie shadows on the tatami mats. His fingers clenched around the table's edge, the rough wood biting into his palm like the physical manifestation of the anger and frustration that threatened to consume him.

His stare fixated on the soft pink kimono that lay torn and stained across the futon. Its delicate fabric, once a gentle caress against Asuna's skin, now besmirched by the brutal marks of violence; a stark reality of the pain she had endured. Each drop of blood, each jagged tear, were mocking him with its imperfections. It was a scathing indictment of his own failure to protect her.

Hijikata's thoughts churned with the ferocity of a dragon stirring from its depths. The sight of her inscrutable expression, the subtle trace of fear in her eyes, it haunted him still. How could that bastard have dared to lay a hand on her?

His attention turned to the door, his will urging it to slide open, to reveal Asuna safe and unharmed. He longed to see her emerge, to watch the way the water droplets glistened on her skin, the serene calm of her demeanor contrasting sharply with the chaos that had just unfolded. But even as he waited, he couldn't shake the tightness in his chest. What if the battle had broken something within her?

"What is it about you that makes me feel this way?" Hijikata muttered to himself as the raging inferno imperiled his very sanity.

As the Vice-Commander of the Shinsengumi, he had learned to live with the threat of danger and death. Yet Asuna's pain had shattered his composure, laying bare the depths of his vulnerability. The dissimilarity between his austere visage and the tender sentiments he harbored for her was a ceaseless struggle, one he dreaded he might not win. For in her presence, the armor of his heart was breached, leaving him susceptible to the turbulent waves of his own emotions.

His mind continued to be tormented by the vivid images of Kazama's brutality. Of that bastard's taunting smirk, the way he had cornered her, underestimating her strength while simultaneously inflicting harm. The insult rankled, fueling Hijikata's resolve to protect Asuna at all costs. He would not let anyone hurt her again.

The sound of the door finally sliding open drew Hijikata from his reverie. Asuna stepped in while carrying herself with an air of quiet dignity, her damp hair cascading over her shoulders like a river of night. The shell white yukata, with its intricate kasuri patterns, seemed to mold itself to her slender form; the fabric draping elegantly around her like a summer mist. Her expression was unreadable and for an instant, the strain of all that surrounded her appeared to dissipate, leaving behind a glimpse of the woman beneath. But he could see the shadows still persisting in her eyes — vestiges of the hardships she had withstood.

His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the subtle nuances of her expression, his senses smothered by the sheer force of his emotions. He felt a pang of desire mixed with an overwhelming need to shield her from this brutal and unforgiving world.

"I can't take you back to the castle tonight. Your appearance would raise too many questions," Hijikata finally asked, his voice low and steady, betraying none of the tempest of concern inside. "You need to rest. How are you feeling?"

A slow, deliberate response. "I'm fine."

Hijikata's instincts screamed at him to challenge her, to demand more. Instead, he restrained himself, knowing that her notion of fine was likely far removed from his own. Not to mention in this particular moment, all he felt was the gnawing ache of helplessness. But regret was a heavy affliction, one he could ill afford right now.

Although Asuna may have washed away the remnants of her battle, Hijikata knew that some scars could not be completely cleansed. He wanted to fight for the right to stand by her side, to be someone she could lean on when the shadows of her past threatened to crush her. Yet he was also keenly aware of the fragility of their bond. It felt tenuous like a tread stretched too thin. They had only just begun to explore the depths of their feelings for each other, and he feared that any wrong move could send her retreating back into her protective shell.

And as much as he loathed the idea of her suffering, he couldn't help but feel a fierce determination to be the one who would help her heal, one day at a time. This was a fight for her trust, for her acceptance, and he was willing to wage that war for as long as it took. Though he wasn't sure if she could hear the silent vow through the depths of his heart.

"Fine doesn't mean unscathed," Hijikata retorted as his attention was pulled back to their conversation, bitterness coating his words. His anger flared once more at the thought of Kazama's attack. "Next time, I won't let you fight alone."

Asuna's aquamarine eyes were as cold and distant as the winter sea, offering a glimpse into a heart fortified by resilience. She was retreating from him again, to battle her own demons alone in silence, and it pained him to watch. "I am adept at taking care of myself," she insisted, even though the coolness in her tone failed to disguise the weariness that clung to her.

"Handling yourself doesn't mean you have to do everything alone." His tone softened a fraction, an attempt regardless of its futility, to reach her beyond the barriers she erected.

Her gaze met his, and for a heartbeat, a silent understanding passed between them. Hijikata felt a glimmer of hope that she might let him in. But just as short-lived, a familiar mask of indifference slipped into place as she moved towards the futon, the walls that she'd built as high as mountains closing around her once more.

"You don't understand." A measured response laced with detachment. But he could hear the strain beneath her words, the vulnerability and deep-seated pain that she fought to conceal.

Hijikata watched as she sat down, her movements graceful yet encumbered, as if the gentle curves of her shoulders were carrying the weight of her past. A jarring reality that beneath her cold exterior lay a turbulent history which he desperately wished to understand.

Asuna's eyes closed as if to meditate in the profundity of her soul, the meaning of trauma she had undergone. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, he felt an overwhelming urge to bridge the distance that felt like an insurmountable chasm between them. He wanted to reach out, to pull her close and whisper assurances that she was safe now, but the fear of pushing her away held him back.

"I want to understand," Hijikata countered, the frustration creeping into his voice. Though he rested his arms on his knees, striving to uphold a composed presence even as his pulse quickened. He understood that trust took time, especially for someone like Asuna. "Tell me what you're fighting against. I want to fight alongside you, not just for you."

When she opened her eyes again, misgiving clouded her expression. He could see the struggle within her, a battle between opening up and maintaining her distance. "I told you before, you can't protect me from everything," she finally declared, her tone resolute. Stubbornness had always been her armor, a fierce shield against doubt and affliction.

"No, I can't," Hijikata admitted with a steadiness that commanded attention. "But I can be the one you turn to when the darkness closes in. You don't have to carry this burden alone."

Asuna's gaze flickered back to him, and he saw something shift in them. Perhaps an inkling of comprehension, or even a fissure in her inner fortress. "I know." It was the briefest and most curt response, yet it echoed within him like a solemn promise.

He understood his journey with her was just beginning. They were two souls entwined in a world of conflict, each carrying their own scars and struggles. As difficult as it might be, he was determined to earn her trust, piece by piece. And maybe, in time, they could forge a bond strong enough to weather any storm and withstand the trials ahead. Right now, he found solace in her willingness to stay with him despite the shadows of doubt that lingered.

In the gentle glow of the lantern, the soft light illuminated Asuna's delicate features as she sat on the futon, her fingers skillfully threading through her long, raven hair. Hijikata watched her with an intensity that surprised even himself, drawn to the tranquil grace she exuded. It stirred a longing within him, compelling him to break the silence that hung between them.

"Let me help you with your hair." The words spilled from his lips before he could fully process them.

Asuna's fingers stilled mid-motion, caught off guard by his request. For a heartbeat, a spark of surprise lit her eyes, a mix of uncertainty and curiosity. She didn't object, her silence a gentle acquiescence, a quiet acceptance that warmed the air between them. It was then that Hijikata recognized the depth of the trust she placed in him.

He moved away from the low table to sit behind her on the futon, the fabric soft and inviting beneath him. "Since we don't have the luxury of a comb," he muttered, his fingers gentling as he smoothed a tangled lock behind her ear. "I will use my fingers."

There was a slight tension in the room, a combination of anticipation and intimacy that made Hijikata's heart race. As he began to run his fingers through her damp hair, he marveled at its texture, strands slipping through his grasp like silk. His touch was careful and meticulous, revealing a softness he rarely permitted to surface.

There was something intimate about the simple act, a way to express his care for her without the weight of grand declarations. It was a privilege he hadn't anticipated, a tender revelation that transformed his perception of love and connection. In this moment, he was not just the Demon Vice-Commander bearing the heavy responsibilities of the Shinsengumi; he was a man drawn to the beauty of the woman before him.

Asuna was the first to break the silence. "How did you find us in the forest?" her tone was devoid of warmth, yet an undercurrent of curiosity tinged her question.

Hijikata's thoughts drifted back to the frantic search that had consumed him. "After Kazama took Yukimura," he began, his voice was deceptively even, like the calm before a storm. "She left me a trail to follow. Pieces of her handkerchief were scattered along the path to guide me deeper into the woods."

The memory of those soft white bits and scraps, like rice grains strewn in a dark wood, lingered in his mind. A testament to the kid's resourcefulness and shrewdness.

Although he couldn't see Asuna's expression, the inquisitiveness in her next words hinted at a deeper probing. "Why didn't you tell Sanosuke that the plan was mine – to confront Kazama alone in order to bring Chizuru back? Why did you take the blame?"

Hijikata paused in his task as his face hardened. He maintained his composure even though the import of her questions settled upon him like a darkening cloud. "I made the decision to protect the mission. Sano's duty is to the Shogun. Personal feelings can't interfere."

Asuna remained still, her expression unreadable as she stared ahead, her back straight. He could sense a shift in the atmosphere, a growing discomfort that made the air feel stifling. Then, without turning to face him, her voice sliced through the silence, cold and precise. "So your mission is more important than the safety of others, including Chizuru's?"

"It's not just about one person. This is about the survival of the Shinsengumi. We could all be in danger if we let emotions cloud our judgment."

Hijikata understood Sanosuke's feelings for Chizuru – his desire to protect a woman who held his heart was something Hijikata could relate to deeply. But as the Vice-Commander, he understood better than anyone that every decision had consequences, and he must consider the weight of his choices. Especially when the stakes were too high.

Asuna turned towards him, her scrutiny intensified on that uncompromising statement. "Don't you think Sanosuke should have the right to make his choices? Shouldn't he decide for himself, whether to choose his duties or the woman he cares for?"

He considered her question carefully, taking a moment to reflect. "In an ideal world, Sano would have a choice. But our duties come first."

"What if you were faced with that choice?" her unswerving focus was a physical touch that compelled him to respond. "Would your duty take precedence or would you choose personal allegiance?"

The question struck Hijikata like a sudden gust of wind, and for a fleeting instant, he faltered. "I will be your shield and uphold my duty without hesitation, even unto death."

His own path had been forged in the fire of difficult choices. He knew that when the moment of truth arrived, honor and duty would be the only pillars of his conscience.

"What about what you want, Hijikata?" The soft words were a calculated strike that pierced his defenses.

He scowled, his jaw clenched in a subtle gesture of restraint. "What I want is irrelevant."

Her expression remained enigmatic, but her tone took on a hint of challenge. A slight provocation that tested the limits of his restraint. "You speak of duty and responsibility, of the sacrifices a samurai must make. But aren't you simply trapped in a prison of your own making, bound by honor, duty and the expectations of others with no escape in sight?"

Hijikata shot her a warning look, a silent rebuke against the intimacy of her inquisitiveness. "I am the Shinsengumi Vice-Commander," he growled, his voice like rough-hewn stone, worn smooth by the relentless demands of duty. "My responsibility is clear. Personal desires are frivolities none of us can afford."

"You ever wonder what it would be like to choose your own path? To want more than just duty and honor?" Asuna's questions were a gentle tug of promise that dropped like pebbles into the stillness of his soul, sending ripples through the quiet depths. "Freedom isn't just about escaping one's chains, but about embracing what lies beyond."

The words lingered in the air like the sweet notes of a shamisen, plucking at the strings of his heart, summoning him to confront the desires he had long kept at bay.

To want more than just duty and honor, Hijikata thought, the phrase echoing like a mantra, reverberating through his mind. But to ask for more would be to tempt the fates, to risk upsetting the precarious harmony of his life.

Within the strictures of his bushido code, he felt the weight of his obligations of duty, honor, and loyalty that bound him to the Shinsengumi and the Tokugawa regime. To falter in his resolve would be to invite shame, to tarnish the family name and bring dishonor to his ancestors.

The bonds of duty and honor that tied him to Kondou and his comrades seemed to tighten around him, a constant reminder of the oaths he had sworn and the principles he had vowed to uphold. To betray those principles would be to forfeit his own identity, to destroy the very essence of who he was as a samurai.

Yet here in the embrace of Asuna's fierce spirit, he was reminded that there existed a world beyond the battlefield. A world painted in vibrant hues of passion and possibility, instead of blood. He could also taste the freedom she spoke of, a heady elixir that assured a life unshackled from the burdens of loyalty and sacrifice.

Reaching out, his fingers brushed her face to move a few strands away, and a jolt of awareness shooting through him. It was a poignant reminder that beneath the stoic exterior of the Shinsengumi Vice-Commander, he was still a man, capable of feeling the tender ache of connection.

"I have already taken a chance," Hijikata realized, the thought unfolding like a cherry blossom in spring.

In the traditional paths of loyalty and honor that governed his every breath, every action, Hijikata had committed an act of quiet rebellion. He had surrendered to the allure of Asuna's presence, and in doing so, had discovered a sense of peace that eluded him on the blood-soaked battlefields.

"I have you," he murmured, the truth spilling from his lips like a prayer to the gods. This demoness, all frost and ice, was his sanctuary, his heart's refuge. She was the gentle melody that soothed the discordant rhythms of his soul.

Amidst the turmoil of a country torn asunder by the harsh dictates of upheaval and war, he had stumbled upon a truth that was both his greatest strength and most crippling weakness – that the bonds of the heart could prove stronger than any oath, duty or honor.

As Hijikata's admission shrouded her, Asuna's gaze remained steadfast; her eyes shone like polished jade in the flickering lantern light. Her face, a serene and ageless mask, betrayed little. Even so, he sensed an almost imperceptible tremor, a whispered hint of emotion that threatened to shatter the icy composure she had so carefully cultivated.

In the quiet, shadowed depths of her eyes, he glimpsed the unvarnished truth. A gentle, probing touch that tested the fragile bridge of connection that trembled between them.

Expression still guarded, Hijikata reached out for her hair again. "Enough of this. I'll finish what I started," he said, his gentle fingers resumed working through the tangles of her damp locks.

Asuna let her gaze settle on his features, holding it there a fraction longer. Without a word, she then turned to face ahead instead of pulling away. Her stillness a tacit acceptance of his touch.

In response to her approval, Hijikata allowed a faint smile to break through his impassive face. As the silence deepened, he took a breath, allowing the night to surround them in its embrace. He chose to be present, to revel in the beauty of the now was enough, as they both seeked solace in the presence of the other amidst the chaos of their world. And he would do anything to preserve this fragile sense of happiness.

"Your hair is beautiful," he said, attempting to lighten the mood despite the heaviness that hung between them. His thoughts soon traveled back to her transformation. The image of her long, otherworldly silver hair flowing like liquid moonlight had enthralled him. "You looked so different then. In your true form, your hair was… striking."

A prolonged pause. Asuna's voice broke through the stillness, laced with a thread of unease. "Does my demon form disturb you?"

Hijikata's expression turned statue-still. "Your true form is part of who you are, it doesn't change how I feel about you."

"You don't find it repulsive?"

The words sliced through him with precision, laying bare the delicate terrain of her soul. Her uncertainty resonated deep within him and his own heart responded with a painful twinge. Turning her to face him, he ensnared her with a gaze that blazed with a fierce sincerity as he held her captive.

"You are still you, no matter what form you take. It only adds to the strength and beauty I see in you." Hijikata had seen her at her most powerful, a breathtaking spectacle that left him awestruck. "I want to know you – every part of you. Every shadowed corner, every secret scar. You're mine, darkness and all."

Asuna's thoughts tangled around his words, the conviction in his voice ignited a spark that awakened her innermost response. But the vicious impulses within her stirred. A restless, hungry presence. It knew the truth – of the bloodlust that had driven her to commit acts she could never undo, of the shadows that forever tainted her existence.

And she couldn't help but wonder, would Hijikata's fascination with her survive the revelation of her true nature? Or would he see her for the monster she truly was and recoil in horror? Yet she couldn't bring herself to reveal the shadows that shrouded her being. Not now… possibly not ever. A question then gnawed at her heart. Why did she fear his judgment?

Because she was afraid of losing the quiet acceptance he offered? Or was it the fear of losing him, a man who was as unpredictable as a stormy sea, yet somehow in his own erratic way, hers to depend on?

"You need to recover," Hijikata finally said, the rough timbre of his tone was a gentle abrasion against her senses. "You're weakened from the battle with Kazama."

Asuna's gaze fell, her lashes sweeping downward in a silent demur. "I've said I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me," he retorted, the sharp lines of his face deepened as his eyes narrowed into slits of suspicion. "I can see the exhaustion eating away at you. Don't think you can hide it from me."

His challenge crawled under her skin, but within, she felt the weight of her fatigue settle heavier, like a mantle being wrapped around her. Her mind was a dark, formless void, her thoughts shattered and disjointed.

"Take my blood," Hijikata urged, his voice a husky command. "It will help you heal."

Asuna studied his face as he loosened his purple kimono to expose the juncture of his shoulder and neck, it held devotion. For a moment, the air locked into a silent standoff with unspoken pledges and hidden dangers that lurked like shadows in the night. The distance between them shrinking to a single, charged moment.

"Sate your hunger, Asuna," he persisted, and her resistance wavered.

Asuna's hands clenched on her thighs. Her need for blood was a constant, throbbing ache. Hijikata's offer dangled between them, a temptation that nurtured her deepest craving.

Before she knew it, her body was straining towards Hijikata with a will of its own. Her heart pounded in her chest, a visceral, relentless rhythm that echoed the turbulent chaos within. Asuna had taken his blood before, out of necessity, but this felt different.

Intimate.

Trusting.

It was a relinquishment, a submission to an unbridled hunger that went beyond the physical.

This time, as she sank her fangs into the soft flesh at the base of his neck, she felt a sense of reverence, of awe. The act was no longer just a means of healing. It was about connection that tethered them to one another, about binding their fates in ways unforeseen. She was taking more than just his blood; she was taking a part of Hijikata, a part that he offered so freely.

Asuna felt his hand fisted in her hair, and the fingers on his other hand dug into her hips, pulling her closer as she fed. His face tilted up, his breath whispering against her ear. The taste of his blood was rich and decadent, swirling with an essence that was uniquely him. His heartbeat pulsed in time with the frantic pace of her own. The barriers that held them apart gradually disintegrated, fading into the sands of time.

With each drop of Hijikata's lifeblood flowing into her, she felt herself becoming more complete. As if the fragments of her being were merging together in a sense of unity. It was as though she'd been navigating a life steeped in shades of gray, but now, the world erupted around her in a brilliant cascade of colors. Every sensation was heightened, every moment intensified.

In this instance, Asuna knew that she'd crossed a threshold, that she'd entered a new realm of experience. And she knew she'd never be the same again.

As she pulled away, dazed, Hijikata's eyes narrowed. Their violet depths smothering her, sending her pulse racing. Then unexpectedly, she felt the delicate touch of his lips on her forehead that spoke of reassurance and acceptance. His mouth wandered, tracing a path of kisses along her skin, until finally, his lips claimed hers.

Asuna responded instinctively and withdrew; a wave of uncertainty washed over her. "I will taste like blood." The thought of him tasting her, of him being repulsed by what she was, filled her with a strange kind of dread. She had always believed that her dark nature would drive the mortals away, that her existence was too tainted for anyone to endure.

But Hijikata was undeterred. "I don't care," he growled, his hands cradling her face with a possessive tenderness. "I want you just as you are."

Without another word, he leaned in again, capturing her mouth with his. Asuna felt a rush of heat bloom beneath her skin. The kiss was tentative at first, a question posed with the gentleness of a whisper to disarm her senses. His lips were warm and insistent, coaxing her to respond, to open up.

Hijikata's tongue slipped between her lips, tasting her, mingling their essences. His kiss grew hot and wet. Needy. This sensation was overwhelming, the taste of his blood lingering sweetly on her tongue. Each stroke of his tongue was a revelation, a bold exploration and it made her stomach flip. The intimacy they shared was unprecedented for her. She found herself lost in the moment, drowning in the heat that spread through her.

Then, as if sensing Asuna's abandonment of caution, he began to kiss lower. His lips grazed her neck, his tongue tracing lazy circles as he suckled. The sensation poured through her like liquid fire, familiar yet new, unleashing a deluge of yearning. The bloodlust that had plagued her all evening finally began to wane, replaced by the warmth of his affection.

Hijikata's kisses seared a trail of raw desire along her collarbone, his mouth fueling the flames that licked at her skin. "You taste different," he said, almost to himself, his voice thick with wonder as if she were a rare treasure he'd discovered.

"Different how?" she breathed, her curiosity a subtle thrum as he dismantled her armor one kiss at a time.

Hijikata pulled away for just a moment, their breaths intertwining in the small space between them. "Like nothing I've ever known."

Before she realized it, he was lowering her onto the futon. A rush of conflicting emotions surged through her. The sumptuous fabric's softness was at odds with the weight of his presence as he settled on top of her. She wasn't aware of him moving until his lips met hers again, and she gasped a breath into the kiss as their bodies came into heated contact.

At first, a shiver of foreboding rippled through Asuna. She wasn't accustomed to such closeness, and the instinct to retreat threatened to overshadow her once again. Especially when she was acutely aware of every inch of him pressing against her — his hard and solid form, the gentle rise and fall of his breath, and the way his eyes bore into hers. Piercing and intense, those steely violet orbs always saw right through her defenses.

"I'm not used to this." A quivering admission. Her pride as a demon and desperate need to gain some sort of control clashed with the tenderness Hijikata offered.

"But it feels right." His tongue traced the delicate hollows of her throat. "Just breathe. Let me take care of you."

With a sudden, fluid motion, his hands deftly pulled down the fabric of her yukata, baring her shoulders to his scorching gaze. The cool air met her skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from his body. She gripped his broad shoulders in an instinctive effort to keep him at arm's length.

"What are you doing?" Her voice infused with surprise and something akin to longing.

"Exploring," Hijikata murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Let me."

His mouth traveled from her shoulder to her collarbone, scattering kisses to the upper swells of her breasts; his lips a merciless caress that left her disoriented. His fingers gently wove through her hair as he kissed her, an imbalance to the raw passion that simmered beneath his composed exterior.

Asuna's breasts felt heavy, sensitive. It was so unfamiliar, unanticipated. But no matter how much she wanted to she couldn't detest it. She couldn't even muster up a faint dislike for it.

To battle with Kazama even when he was at his most ruthless didn't frighten her. She wasn't afraid to confront the shadows of her past when the memories still lingered like an open wound. Defying those in power was something she did without hesitation, even if it meant going against the rules. But not this – this attraction that she never wanted or understood. She always had control, and the sudden absence of it was terrifying.

And oddly exhilarating.

"Do you feel that?" The deep rumble of his voice shivered through her, as if to draw her into a world she had never dared to explore. "That's the bond between us."

Asuna's mind reeled, the sensations crashing over her like waves against a rocky shore. She had never allowed herself to feel so vulnerable, so exposed. But the way he kissed her—each movement deliberate, each moment filled with a desperate need she had never known—drew her in deeper. It was as if he was unraveling her, layer by layer, exposing the warmth she had hidden beneath her icy facade.

"You make it hard to think." Her confession barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

"Good." He kissed his way back to her jaw. "You shouldn't have to think right now. Just feel."

Asuna surrendered to the moment, allowing herself to embrace the kindling emotions swirling inside her. With each kiss, she felt herself becoming more alive, more aware of the depth of her own desires. It was an awakening. A revelation that perhaps she could let go of her reservation and allow herself to feel deeply, to connect with this mortal man who burned with life; his inner light burned so hot it scalded.

Just as the intimacy deepened, Hijikata eased back, his breath mingling with hers as he readjusted her yukata. "You should rest now." It was an order this time, an imperious reminder that grounded her in reality.

Confusion rustled Asuna's mind, her form still humming with the aftershocks of their intimate moment. But she saw the concern crossing his face and knew he was worried about her, about the toll the battle with Kazama had taken on her body and mind. His solicitude, though needless, was an affirmation to his selfless nature, putting her needs before his own desires.

As Hijikata's weight lifted off her, she felt an unexpected fleeting sense of loss, her body missing the hard, muscular planes that had pressed her into the futon. But before she could react, he'd shifted to her side, his arm wrapped around her waist. A comforting hold that brought her a sense of calm.

His chest was a warm, solid wall against her back, his breath a gentle caress on the sensitive skin of her nape. Asuna's eyelids grew heavy. Her lashes fluttering down as she succumbed to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat and the gentle strokes of his fingers on her skin.

Sleep came softly, a warm breeze that carried her away on its gentle currents.

X X X

Author's Note:

Waffle: Hold up! Another chapter? What happened to your 'one chapter a year' motto?

Swanna: I had a wild burst of creativity! Or maybe I just misplaced my procrastination…

Waffle: So what's next? A chapter every month?

Swanna: Let's not get crazy. I still need time for my daydreaming.

Waffle: Daydreaming? You mean plotting your next excuse?

Swanna: Exactly! It's all part of the process.

Waffle: Right. A process I'm desperately trying to keep up with. Now let me go edit your… creative attempt at storytelling.