Morning Teasing.

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The morning sun shone gently through the white sheer curtains of a humble but warmly lit room. Dust motes glimmered like tiny stars, drifting slowly in the motionless air. On the bed, entwined in a knot of ivory sheets, were two figures—naked and warm under the blankets, skin to skin, heart to heart.

Leon's raven-black hair was spilled across the pillow, disheveled and falling just below his broad shoulders. His breathing was calm, chest rising and falling in serenity. The woman beside him, snuggled into the bend of his arm, had long, silky hair the deep amethyst hue, a strong contrast against the cream sheets.

The two figures bent together naturally, as if sculpted for each other. Her leg was over his, hooked around his. Her naked arm sprawled across his chest. His hand lay on her lower back, fingers spread in a soft, possessive grip.

There was a moment of silence.

Then, Leon shifted. Slight twitch of his brow. Flicker of his eyelashes.

Slowly, he opened his eyes—molten and golden like sunlight pouring through amber. They glimmered for a moment in the morning light, acclimating to the world.

He blinked, gazing down at the weight in his arms.

There she was—Aria.

Asleep still, her face pressed against his bare chest, lips open just a little as she breathed. Her violet hair spilled across his arm like a curtain, the finer strands dancing across it like sparks. The corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile.

"Still sleeping, hmm?" he whispered, sweeping a few strands of hair away from her cheek with gentle fingers.

As his fingers traced her temple, Aria shifted. Her form pressed instinctively against his, soft curves aligning with the warmth of him. A little hum left her lips, and her long eyelashes fluttered.

Then. her eyes opened.

Deep purple met golden.

For an instant, she appeared confused, as if trying to recall where she was. Then her eyes widened in surprise, scanning the man whose arms she was in, whose chest rose under her hand bare.

"O-Oh…!" She breathed softly, voice little more than a sigh. The warmth in her face spread quickly, reaching the points of her ears. And then, with a flustered whimper, she hid her face in his chest, from the world—and from him.

Leon laughed, the sound warm and deep.

"You're adorable when you flip out," he whispered, enwrapping her in his arms and holding her closer in a firm, playful hug.

"Aah—Lord!" she whispered, her voice stifled.

She gasped once more when his hand dropped lower, his fingers outlining the shape of her naked hips, then skimming over the delicate skin at the top of her thigh. Their bodies lay hard against each other under the sheet, the heat between them leaping from ash to flame. Her gentle femininity touched against the swelling force manhood between his legs.

"L- Lord … don't… I'm still sensitive there…" she breathed, biting her lower lip as a quiet moan escaped her.

"I know," he whispered playfully, his voice brushing against her ear like velvet. "But how can I resist when you're this beautiful?"

His hand caressed her again, slow and deliberate, stirring goosebumps along her inner thigh.

"You blush even brighter than the sunrise," he joked, "Aria… you look even more beautiful like this."

She shivered at his touch. Her thighs automatically clamped together, but it only made her feel the friction more.

"L- Lord, please…" she whispered, shivering in embarrassment and lust.

Hmm?" he leaned in, kissing her cheek softly. "We're husband and wife now, Aria. You don't have to be shy. And definitely don't say 'Lord' anymore."

Her heart skipped. The word resonated in her mind like a spell.

Husband and wife…

She blinked, shocked. "W-Wife…?" she stammered.

Leon pulled back slightly; brow rose as he studied her face.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

Aria's mouth opened, her words shaking. "B-But… Lord—how am I… to be your wife? I mean, I'm a maid. How am I your wife?"

Leon's eyes shone with mirth, and he leaned forward once more, voice low and honey-smooth. "Aria," he told her, "I rode you last night. Hard. Several times. If that doesn't qualify you as my wife, I don't know what does.

Her face flamed crimson, and she looked away, lips parting as if to protest—but before she could speak, Leon captured her mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.

It was tender, deep, silencing every doubt with a single touch.

When they finally broke apart, breathless, he smiled against her lips.

"No more objections," he whispered. "From now on, you're my wife. Understood?"

Her heart thudded in her chest, every fibre of her body shaken by the strength of his presence. She nodded hesitantly, her voice no more than a whisper.

"…Alright."

Leon supported her cheek, his eyes drawing hers.

"Now," he instructed, "say my name."

She gazed at him, wide, shining eyes. "L-Leon…" she whispered, soft and tentative.

He smiled in contentment, one hand skimming her waist.

"Now you actually resemble my wife," he told her, squeezing his hips gently into hers.

She gasped, covering her face once more in his chest—but her smile betrayed her.

They were just seconds from dissolving back into the warmth of each other when a voice they recognized broke through the morning.

"Well, well. Sorry to intrude, lovebirds," the voice taunted, playful and sweet. "I realize you're having your first morning of bliss, but I was beginning to feel a bit left behind."

Leon swiveled his head, and Aria peeked around his arm, shocked.

There—sit back on the padded window seat, a leg drawn up under her—was Rias. She was dressed in a red silk gown that hugged her curves, her crimson hair spilling over her shoulder, her matching crimson eyes sparkling with mischief.

She cocked her head with a grin. "Hope you don't mind me crashing your honeymoon suite."

Leon groaned theatrically. "Rias. Seriously?"

Aria, her face blazing with color, squeaked, "H-How long have you been there?!"

Rias grinned like a fox that had just caught a particularly tasty rabbit. Draped casually on the window seat, her crimson hair spilled like wine across her shoulder. She had her legs crossed and her elbow resting on the windowsill as if this entire scene was her personal morning entertainment.

"Long enough to hear someone moan, 'I'm still sensitive there.'" She winked. "So… not long, but just in time."

Aria hid her face once more, this time hoping the sheets would engulf her entire body.

Leon, however, simply laughed.

And thus began the morning—enveloped in warmth, laughter, a mess of limbs, and the promise of love that disregarded status, titles, and the ways of the world.