Chapter 36: Is there Calm in the abyss? - 3
Two glowing pairs of eyes stared back at him—one amber, deep and pupil-less, radiating a quiet hunger; the other golden and slit-pupiled, glinting behind a cracked porcelain mask with mischievous intent.
"...Good morning, Still-One," Sylvara whispered, her fingers softly combing through his silver-white hair, her touch light as petals brushing skin.
"You twitch in your sleep," added Virelya, draped over a flowering arch above him like a lounging snake goddess, her veils trailing like mist. "I counted seventeen times."
Azareel sat bolt upright—only to get his head caught in a vine, then tangled in Virelya’s coils, and finally, a flower bloomed right on his face, its petals tickling his nose.
He flailed softly, his torn robe shifting.
"Wh—what—why are you both—?" he stammered, his voice muffled by the bloom, his cheeks flushing under the dual gaze.
Sylvara leaned in, her amber eyes softening, her flowering hair cascading in crimson waves. "You were very peaceful last night. We didn’t want to disturb it," she murmured, her voice a melodic hum.
"You didn’t want to disturb me, or you wanted to watch?" he asked nervously, plucking the flower from his face with gentle care, as if afraid to offend it.
"Both," they said in unison, Sylvara’s tone warm and Virelya’s laced with a breathy tease.
A pause hung in the air, the garden’s vines rustling faintly.
Then Virelya added, her golden eyes narrowing with delight, "It was soothing. Like watching a tiny, innocent animal curl into the warmth of death."
"That’s... lovely?" Azareel coughed, his silver eyes wide, untangling himself from the coil with polite awkwardness.