Chapter 30: Couple on the hill
The sun rises, casting golden rays that stretch across the land, illuminating the world as if gently waking it from its slumber. Its light touches a small, hidden house perched atop a quiet hill, cloaked in the shadows of towering trees. The hill, secluded and serene, is a secret known only to those who live within. The thick forest surrounding it keeps prying eyes at bay, as if nature itself conspires to protect the peaceful haven. Behind the house, a lush backyard teems with life—an orchard of fruit trees, their branches heavy with ripe offerings. A modest greenhouse stands nestled near the treeline, brimming with a vibrant array of vegetables and flowers, a testament to careful tending.
Beside the well, a newly built shed leans comfortably into its space, housing remnants of the past. Inside, old pieces of furniture rest among piles of wood, and tucked away in the corner, nearly forgotten, is a wheelchair. Dust settles softly on its unused wheels, a quiet reminder of a time before recovery.
But inside the little house, all is warmth and comfort. The modest home is cozy, filled with personal touches—blankets draped over chairs, shelves lined with books and trinkets. The scent of the previous night's fire lingers in the air, the embers in the hearth now barely glowing, casting a soft warmth across the room.
In the single bedroom, two figures lie entwined beneath a thick quilt, their breaths slow and synchronized in the rhythm of deep sleep. The larger man, golden-haired and strong, has one arm protectively draped over the smaller figure beside him. His handsome face is softened by sleep, the tension that usually rests in his features replaced by an unusual peace. His hair spills slightly over the pillow, catching the first glimmers of morning light.
Nestled against him is the smaller man, his dark hair fanned out across the pillow like an inky halo. His delicate, almost ethereal beauty stands in contrast to the man's sturdy form, yet they fit together perfectly, as if they've always belonged this way. His chest rises and falls gently, face serene and content.
On the pillow beside them, another presence joins the quiet scene. A plump bird, with white feathers on its round belly and wings that shift from blue to green, rests comfortably near their heads. Its beady eyes remain closed, content in the warmth of the room and the peaceful slumber of its companions.
The chubby bird, roused by the soft glow of morning light, flutters awake from its perch on the pillow. Without hesitation, it takes flight and lands squarely on the face of the larger man sleeping in the bed. He groans in response, lifting a hand to swat the persistent creature away, but the bird moves with surprising agility for its plump frame, dodging each lazy attempt.
This little game continues until the man, clearly losing patience, lets out a deeper, tired groan. His voice, low and husky from sleep, mumbles, "Grape, it's too early for this." But the bird is relentless.
With another reluctant sigh, the man finally gives in, pulling himself out from beneath the covers. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, his bare chest gleaming faintly in the soft morning light. As he stands, he stretches slowly, his muscles rippling with the movement. His broad shoulders and defined chest, unmarred by a shirt, flex as he reaches his arms overhead. The lines of his abdomen tighten, and his toned, attractive physique is on full display, the low-hanging shorts he wears sitting loosely on his hips. The morning light catches the contours of his well-defined body, emphasizing the strength in his arms and the sculpted lines of his back.