<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">Oblivious to the glare of morning light that passed through the grand windows, she rested in a mess of blankets and sheets. Nestled in the warmth of strong arms and pleasant body heat, she was entirely at peace. Her brow did not furrow with the wrinkle of fear, darkness sparing her from its cold clutches. Monsters didn’t visit her in her sleep, nor did the wicked prophetic images of a bleak future. Nothing disturbed her slumber, her body wonderfully sated and sore in the best way, muscles weary yet relaxed from a long night of lovemaking. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment she closed her eyes and succumbed to the fatigue; somewhere between the whirlwinds of one of their passionate moments, the intervals of sex and laughter. Not even the stirring beside her roused her consciousness, the press of soft lips to cheek. She simply laid where she was, dark hair strewn across the pillow her head rested on, long lashes sweeping across the very top of her cheeks. It was only when savory aromas filled the air that she began to awaken. She fought it, despite the fact that it appealed to an unusually immense appetite. Ava shifted, rolling onto her side to ignore the call of delicious scents that attempted to pull her from her precious sleep. <br/>
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For the soft kisses and soothing caresses, she was more than willing to open her eyes, though it was a slow process. Each one of her senses seemed to operate on its own timeline, the first to answer the call of consciousness being touch. A smile appeared on her features, contented and serene. Her hand found his, the familiar roughness of his palms furthering that sensation of calm. Her eyes opened next, lashes parting to expose vivid hues to the bright rays of the sunlight that pierced the windows. It was hard to resist the urge to close them again, and instead she let her eyes flutter to blink away the haze of sleep she peered through. When they adjusted she looked over her shoulder, and was greeted by a ruggedly handsome face still adoring her neck and shoulders with sweet kisses. Ava felt the flutter of her heart then, the hummingbirds beating their wings in the cage of her chest. It was such a profound feeling, incomparable to anything she had ever experienced before. It was more than the magnetism of superficial qualities, his charming smile or captivating eyes-- not the premature infatuation of a simple crush. The indescribable connection ran much deeper than she anticipated, and her future seemed brighter for it. <i>Their future</i>.<br/>
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“Hi.” The small smile that hung on her lips broadened as she stared up at him, the affection evident in the pools of her green eyes. Rolling onto her back, she brought a hand up to let it rest against his cheek. Ava took him in as her thumb brushed over his stubble, in awe of the closeness she felt with him, and how comforting his presence was. She could have stayed like this all day and all night, but her attention went to the alarm clock that rested on the nightstand. She could barely see the red digits over the mound of bacon and eggs. Aware now, she felt the hard pang of hunger hit her. It was accompanied by a swell of appreciation, her gaze going from curious to grateful. “Wes . . .” Ava propped herself up onto her elbows, able to see the full spread of fruit and toast, the piping hot cup of coffee. From the light brown color that swirled in the mug, she could tell that he made it exactly how she liked it. Her heart melted again. “You didn’t have to. We could have ordered room service and had the pleasure of scaring them away again.” Her lips pressed to his cheek before she scooched to the nightstand, holding the sheet that was tangled around her to her chest. She grabbed the plate carefully, sitting up a bit so that she could rest her back against the headboard.<br/>
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“But, this was really sweet of you. Thank you. All of this looks really good.” Ava tried not to act too surprised. She wouldn’t have thought he knew his way around a kitchen, his demeanor betraying his obvious skill. “This helping of bacon, though . . . You’ll have to help me with it.” She lifted the plate, offering him however much he wanted from the pile. “You know, we don’t really talk much about before you became a Hunter.” She knew it was for good reason, and she purposely strayed away from any questions or memories that might have made his face lose its luster, dull his eyes. She felt it was benign enough. “What did you do before? For work, I mean.”</span>