Malvor reluctantly untangles himself from the warmth of their shared bed, her body curled around him like she belonged there, like this belonged. He lingers for a moment, running a hand through his hair with a sigh before finally slipping away. The air feels colder without her, but he ignores the thought as he steps out of the room.
By the time he returns, coffee in hand, she's just stirring awake, her eyes heavy with sleep. The sight of her, warm and soft against his sheets, does something to him, something inevitable.
She blinks up at him, then smiles. "You made me coffee?"
He smirks, setting the glass on the bedside table. "Yes, Annie my Cherry Blossom. I made iced coffee."
She picks it up, takes a sip, and hums in satisfaction. "Perfect."
Malvor leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her. "Of course it is. I made it."
Malvor doesn't hesitate. As soon as she takes that first sip, he slides back into bed beside her, pulling her against him like he's reclaiming something that was always meant to be his. She's so warm, molding against him like a second skin, her scent sweet and lingering, fruity, floral, something uniquely her. It settles something deep inside him, something he doesn't want to name.
Neither of them speak. There's no need. The only sound is the soft clink of ice in her glass as she drinks, the slow, steady rhythm of their breathing as they settle deeper into the embrace. His fingers trace lazy patterns along her spine, hers rest lightly against his chest.
By the time the coffee is gone, Malvor is certain of one thing—he never wants to let her go.
"Annie, you smell like heaven."
She hums, her head resting against his chest, the remnants of her coffee still lingering on her lips. "I should, considering I just showered," she teases.
Malvor nuzzles into her hair, inhaling deeply. "No, no, my sweet Annie, this isn't just soap. It's you. It's divine. It's unfair, really," he murmurs against her skin, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder. "How am I supposed to focus on anything else when you smell like actual heaven?"
She chuckles, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on his chest. "You are ridiculous."
"Ridiculously enchanted by you," he corrects, pulling her impossibly closer, his voice dripping with dramatic longing. "I might never recover."
She rolls her eyes, but her small, pleased smile betrays her. "Tragic."
"Oh, very tragic, Annie Love. But if I must suffer, I will suffer here," he buries his face in her neck, breathing her in again, "wrapped around you, basking in this unfairly perfect scent."
"Uh-huh." She shakes her head, amused, finishing the last sip of her coffee before setting it on the nightstand. "Is this what you do all day? Lounge around, smell people, and make dramatic declarations?"
Malvor gasps, clutching his chest. "I am personally offended, my dearest. I am a very busy god."
She lifts an eyebrow. "Doing what, exactly?"
He pauses. "…Important things."
"Uh-huh."
"Very important things."
Her lips twitch, and she looks at him like she's indulging a ridiculous child. "Like sniffing me?"
"Especially sniffing you." His grin is utterly unrepentant as he leans in, brushing his nose against hers. "I'm starting to think I should bottle this scent. Sell it. 'Eau de Annie: The Most Addictive Fragrance in Existence.' I'll make a fortune."
She groans, flopping back against the pillows. "I hate you."
"You adore me."
She side-eyes him. "I tolerate you."
"Oh, Annie, my radiant morning flower, your tolerance fills me with joy." He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, then the corner of her lips, grinning at the way she subtly leans into each one. "Shall I continue being insufferable, or do you want breakfast first?"
She sighs dramatically. "Breakfast. Then you can continue being insufferable."
"A perfect plan!" Malvor grins, finally pulling away, though not before stealing one last kiss. "Come, my Annie Cinnamon Roll, let's feed you before you turn hangry on me."
His lips find hers in a slow, unhurried kiss—one that speaks of patience, of anticipation, of promises not yet fulfilled but inevitable. There is no teasing this time, no playfulness, no quick quip to ruin the moment. Just warmth, the press of his mouth against hers, and the weight of something deeper curling between them.
Annie feels it. The shift. The quiet knowing.
This isn't like before.
This is a promise.
His fingers trail lightly along her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek as if committing the feel of her to memory. When he finally pulls away, his golden eyes smolder as they hold hers, dark and knowing.
"Tonight," he murmurs, voice low and rich like honeyed wine.
She didn't breathe for a second. Not because she didn't want him, but because she wanted him too much.
It's not a question. It's not a demand. It's simply… fact.
And gods, she wants it.
Heat pools in her stomach, spreading like fire through her limbs. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, an anchor, a silent yes.
Malvor grins then, slow and wicked, and presses one last kiss to her lips, softer this time, lingering, savoring before he pulls back entirely.
"Breakfast first, Annie Love," he says, his voice thick with promise. "You will need your strength."
She stares at him, heart pounding, lips tingling, knowing exactly what he means.
And damn him, she does need breakfast.
Malvor stretches lazily, finally pulling himself out of bed with the air of a man preparing for something monumental. He glances at Annie, who is still curled under the covers, her lips slightly parted, her hair a beautiful mess around her.
Oh yes, she was going to need all the strength she could get.
"Arbor, darling, let's prepare a very nutritious breakfast for our Annie, shall we?" he says, rubbing his hands together.
The house flickers in agreement.
Moments later, the kitchen fills with the scent of something rich and savory. Malvor lounges at the counter, grinning as he watches the spread appear: eggs cooked perfectly, fresh salmon, avocado, dark leafy greens, and whole grains, all plated like a meal fit for a queen. To finish it off, a protein smoothie thick with berries and honey, sweet but packed with everything she'll need.
"Oh, Arbor, you get me," Malvor praises, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth. "And Annie will definitely need this."
He carries the tray back into the bedroom, finding her just beginning to stretch, the blanket slipping off one bare shoulder.
"Good morning, my strong, radiant, soon-to-be-exhausted Annie," he coos, setting the tray beside her.
She raises a brow, glancing over the meal. "This is suspiciously… responsible of you."
He feigns offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Annie, I am always responsible."
She gives him a look, one that very clearly calls him a liar.
He just smirks, plopping onto the bed beside her. "Eat up, my lovely. You're going to need it."
She takes a bite of the salmon, still watching him warily. "Malvor, are you fattening me up?"
"Fattening you up?" He gasps, scandalized. "Absolutely not! I'm nourishing you. I'm cherishing you. I'm ensuring that you will have ample energy for…" He winks, leaning in close, his breath warm against her ear. "…later."
The fork halts halfway to her mouth.
Heat flares in her cheeks.
Malvor just grins, taking a sip of his coffee, perfectly pleased with himself.-