Chapter 165: She Woke Up Warm

She woke in a soft bed, warm despite the storm outside, with someone holding her firmly around the waist. Blanche opened her eyes to a ceiling she knew well. In the distance, she could hear the wind howling against the concrete building.

Still half-asleep, she closed her eyes again, turned over, and instinctively snuggled against the man's bare chest, ready to drift back to sleep.

Then her mind finally caught up.

Something was wrong.

The warrior, apparently delighted by her initiative, pulled her even closer, his warm breath brushing against her ear. His wandering hands traced slow paths along her back, the only thing she wore being her sports bra.

First they slid up to the nape of her neck, gently stroking the roots of her hair.

Then they traveled lower...

Stopping on her backside.

Blanche stiffened at the unexpected touch, which immediately made Aaron pause.

Wait...

Why was she half-naked?

She must have asked the question aloud, because a familiar voice answered.

"Your clothes were soaked after your walk through the blizzard," Aaron murmured as he took the opportunity to kiss her neck, slowly trailing down toward her collarbone. "I took them off."

"I see you made the most of the opportunity," Blanche replied, her face turning scarlet.

After freezing for so long, she was suddenly burning.

By all the gods...

She was burning.

A blazing warmth bloomed deep inside her.

Contrary to her expectations, Aaron moved away, rolled onto his back, and burst out laughing.

His joy softened every feature of his face. He looked almost ten years younger.

Captivated, Blanche simply watched him.

He was dazzling.

Pulling the comforter higher around herself, she stretched one bare leg over the blanket and quietly admired the view.

"What are you laughing at?" Blanche asked once he'd finally calmed down.

"You, Neige."

He smiled.

"You're what makes me laugh."

Aaron propped himself up on one elbow, resting his head against his hand. From above, he gazed down at her while his brown curls mingled with her loose red hair.

With his free hand, he gently traced the bridge of her nose...

Then her lips.

Finally, his hand settled against the Black Mage's thigh.

His palm was warm, rough from years of training, yet impossibly gentle.

Far too effective for her own good.

"My dear Snow," he murmured, "we've been married for decades... and we've consummated our honeymoon more times than either of us could possibly count."

His smile deepened.

"If you honestly think I took advantage of you today while you're still wearing your underwear..."

He chuckled softly.

"...then let me tell you I actually behaved myself."

His eyes lingered on hers.

"Far too well."

The whispered words...

The unmistakable desire shining in his eyes...

The tenderness of his caresses...

Blanche's heart pounded so violently she was certain he could hear it.

"I'm getting dangerously close to crossing certain lines..." he continued before stealing a quick, passionate kiss.

"But not today."

Aaron climbed out of bed wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, which, in Blanche's opinion, revealed entirely too much.

She immediately looked away.

Teasing, Aaron noticed every second of her inspection.

"You've got a little drool..." he said, pointing to the corner of his own mouth while grabbing his clothes and sitting down on the bed to get dressed.

The moment he turned his back, Blanche seized the opportunity to throw her pillow at him.

This time she tried not to throw it too hard.

Eva had taught her that lesson.

Damn...

That's my best friend's father.

"Oh, come on!" the warrior laughed. "You can do better than that!"

"Oh, screw you," Blanche grumbled.

It slipped out before she could stop herself.

Aaron burst into laughter as he continued dressing.

Then, without warning, he froze.

His brows knitted together.

His entire body tensed.

The lighthearted atmosphere cracked instantly.

Something was wrong.

"What is it?" Blanche asked, immediately on alert.

Aaron let out a long sigh before running a hand through his already messy hair, making a half-hearted attempt to tame it.

It accomplished absolutely nothing.

Several stubborn strands immediately fell back across his forehead, giving him that irresistibly disheveled look of someone who had only just climbed out of bed.

He pulled on a simple dark wool sweater, its loose collar slipping slightly to reveal one collarbone.

And somehow...

He became even more handsome.

Blanche stared at him for several seconds, genuinely offended by the unfairness of it all.

How could someone possibly look that good first thing in the morning?

His features were still softened by sleep. A faint shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. His eyes carried that slightly hazy depth of someone who hadn't fully awakened yet.

And somehow...

Every one of those imperfections only made him more attractive.

The sweater naturally emphasized the breadth of his shoulders without even trying, while his unruly hair gave him an effortless charm—the kind possessed by people who clearly never had to work to be beautiful.

Compared to him...

Blanche was convinced she looked like a walking disaster.

Her long braid had partially come undone during the night. Loose red strands escaped in every direction, framing her face in a chaos she was certain couldn't be fixed. The frayed end of her braid had become something resembling an untidy broom, and she didn't even dare imagine what her face looked like after such a short night's sleep.

She absently reached up to smooth her hair.

Pointless.

One stubborn lock immediately sprang back and tickled her cheek.

She blew it away in irritation.

Seriously...

That should be illegal.

There ought to be an international law requiring people who looked that attractive in the morning to have, at the very least, greasy hair or an enormous pillow crease across one cheek.

Fair was fair.

Watching her lose the battle against her braid, Aaron smiled.

One of those sleepy, genuine smiles that crinkled the corners of his eyes ever so slightly.

Blanche gave up immediately.

It was official.

Life was profoundly unfair.

"I was thinking about tonight's dinner," Aaron said at last. "But we're still missing one guest."

Blanche's heart skipped a beat.

Without realizing it, she stopped breathing.

Her gaze immediately drifted toward the window.

Beyond the glass...

There was no landscape anymore.

Only an endless white wilderness where sky and earth had become indistinguishable.

A delicate lacework of frost spread across the windowpane, weaving countless crystalline patterns, while the warmth inside filled the glass with mist that blurred the outside world even further.

Every so often, a stronger gust hurled snow against the windows with a muffled rush, erasing whatever faint outlines remained beyond them.

No silhouette could be seen.

Only the ghostly shapes of the nearest trees, swallowed by the storm.

A knot tightened in Blanche's stomach.

Someone she knew...

Could be out there.

In that cold.