The room was silent—silent in that heavy, intimate way that only exists when three people share the same bed and none of them know exactly how to feel about it.
Aria's breathing was soft, tranquil, completely at ease. The little mage slept with her head resting on Damon's chest as if it were the most natural place in the world. One of her hands was loose, resting on his ribcage, and Damon could feel the warmth of her fingertips following the rhythm of her own breathing. She seemed… happy. Safe.
Ester, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.
She lay on her back, her body tense, her posture too rigid for someone who should be sleeping. Her long black hair fell like a veil over the pillow, hiding part of her face, but not enough to hide the slight blush on her ears.
Damon opened his eyes slowly. He knew how to recognize when someone was awake—the rhythm of their breathing, the slight movement of their shoulders, the stiffness of their fingers.
