His features softened in repose, it was unusual to see him asleep; though he must. She tried to think of all their travelling together with the crew, but had no clear memory of seeing him asleep. Partially because he rose so early, and if she’d had a late watch their paths had been unlikely to cross. Just thinking about sleeping out on the cold hard ground made her shudder. Lucky she’d not been sent with the Knights during Cylus, she hated the cold. The way the earth seemed to pull every last mote of warmth from her bones and leave her shivering. She pressed closer against his bare skin, her own shirt and cut-off breaches, combined with the cover’s he’d pulled over them, were more than enough to trap warmth. But the sensation that emanated from his skin was glorious. Her mind, drifted to cold winter nights and the pair of them curled up together. Her heart skipped small beats and she closed her eyes, praying silently to the immortals that she wasn’t just a naïve fool. She wasn’t giving her heart to someone who had no care for it.
He had declared so much, offered to sacrifice so much of himself for her sake and the Skyrider was painfully aware that she remained unworthy of such devotion. Yet, she would cling to it and she would try and protect him from the world and his own sense of duty. There was something enticing in watching him sleep, and no wonder he tended to withdraw from the crew as they rested because, he, like everyone else, looked as though he could almost be vulnerable if he woke; and she didn’t want to wake him. When had he last slept? In trips between the infirmary and home, the late night the trial before, when had he rested? So much for him telling her to rest…did he look after himself?
But the day was advancing, breaks trickled by into morning. Birds chirped behind the curtain, and the chill from the window draught went its way around her neck. Elyna nudged his chest with her nose before pressing a soft kiss against his heart. Then with a much-suppressed streak of mischief her fingers moved gently down his spine before forward, trailing them over the fresher scar on his shoulder, then the wound on his neck. He had said he wouldn't kiss her, but his warning seemed distant and far less important than her painstaking exploration. With soft touches followed by kisses she sought out the marks on his body, as though she could fix the wounds she’d caused on his flesh. Her own heart started to thump in her throat, pulse quickening. Careful to move slowly she shifted enough to press a kiss to the silvery line along his ribs, thumb curling around his hip as she pressed a final kiss to his waist and looked up, tilting her head to one side, “good morning,” the words were heavy on her tongue, her voice still thick from sleep.