She turned to her side, facing away from him, and pressed a hand against the corner of her mouth. "Yeah, of course I did. But you'd already said no."

"Well," he put forth, "I'm here and I'm asking you again of my own volition. If I can't prove it to you, you'll just have to trust me. Can I take you out sometime?"

She exhaled soundlessly. "Ask me in the morning, when you're not half-delusional from exhaustion."

"Fine," he agreed finally, snuggling into the blankets, his eyes on her silhouetted form before him. "I'll take you up on that."

The next morning, when Parisa slowly drifted awake, she found herself tucked between blankets and Feofil's warm body. His arms were laced around her, his legs tangled between hers, and her head was pillowed into the groove of his neck. She lifted her gaze, letting her eyes fall upon his slumbering features.

His hair was tousled, face partially hidden by his other arm draped across his forehead to block the light. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths indicative of a restful slumber the likes of which he hadn't had in months.

Pari’s heart swelled at the sight of him, filling with such content that she could not say she’d felt before. Like sleeping under the sun on a sandy beach or picnicking in the gardens behind the palace, but stronger and so much more full. It was overwhelming, how much — could she say it? Think it? Love. It had to be. She’d never utter the word out loud - as addled as she was, she knew enough not to put that word out into the world - but she could keep it close to her heart. She could bask in this scene for a few more minutes, lounge in his warmth just a little while longer. Last night had been amazing, but this feeling of being alone, together, just the two of them in a soft bed full of blankets under the cold winter sunlight… she was embarrassed, in retrospect, at her impulsivity. But that was why Feo was dangerous, wasn’t it? Because he made her come completely undone, which was why she leaned forward in that early morning daze and pressed her lips against his. She couldn’t even remember worrying about morning breath or waking him up or anything. She’d just… done it. Without thought, without reason, without rationale.

He murmured a sleepy sound of pleasant surprise at her soft touch, barely coming to as her kiss pulled him out of his dreams.

Pari gently, and with great reluctance, pulled back. As his eyes blinked into focus, then slowly moved down to meet hers, a flush warmed her cheeks. “Sorry,” she blustered, scooting back. “Morning.”

"Hey, wait," he breathed, still getting his bearings. His hand found its way to her cheek. "Come back."