---
"You up, little princess?" Vespar asked, his voice low and smooth, still seated on the same couch where Lilith had fallen asleep the night before. The storm inside him hadn't calmed. That memory… that thing he saw—it left him unsettled, a sharp growl simmering beneath his skin. He had almost leaned down and bitten her again, desperate to see more, to know who or what had hurt her. But the peaceful look on her face stopped him.
Lilith stirred, stretching lazily atop his lap, a content yawn escaping her lips. Her red eyes blinked open slowly. "How long was I asleep?" she murmured groggily, voice husky from slumber.
Before he could answer, she leaned in instinctively, her tongue gliding up his neck before sinking her fangs into the same spot as before. His breath hitched, a low moan of pleasure mixed with pain slipping past his lips.
"Twenty hours, maybe?" he groaned slightly, one hand already moving through her hair as if on reflex. "You looked really cute while sleeping," he added with a soft chuckle, brushing a few strands of hair from her face.
She pulled back, her fangs retracting as a small drop of blood lingered on her lips. Her cheeks flushed. "That's the longest I've ever slept," she admitted with a surprised smile. "Well… your blood really filled my stomach." She giggled, licking her lips.
Vespar let out a half-laugh, still watching her closely, eyes scanning her face for the smallest flicker of something more. He tilted his head slightly, voice quiet. "Lilith… is there something bugging you?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "Bugging me?" she echoed, as if the question hadn't even registered as a possibility.
"You've got this look sometimes," he said, tapping his temple with two fingers. "It's like your mind's somewhere else. And when I drank your blood… I saw something. Something painful." His eyes darkened. "I'm not sure what it was, but it made my blood boil. Like someone hurt you."
Lilith's expression faltered for a heartbeat. Just long enough for him to catch it before she quickly masked it behind a faint smile and a shake of her head. "You're imagining things, husband. I'm just a little tired, that's all." Her fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on his shirt. "Maybe I overworked myself at the apothecary before you showed up and ruined my schedule."
He didn't press further, but his eyes narrowed slightly. That flicker—he didn't miss it.
"Alright," he said, not believing her for a second but willing to wait. "But you're a terrible liar."
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "And you're a terrible husband. Who sits still for twenty hours just so his wife can nap on him?"
"I do," he grinned, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "And admit it—you loved every second."
Lilith pretended to scoff, but her body melted against him again, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. Don't let it get to your head."
They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them thick with unspoken thoughts. Outside, the golden hue of late morning streamed through the apothecary windows, casting soft light over the mismatched vials and herbs that lined the walls.
Vespar broke the silence again, this time with a lighter tone. "You know, this marriage of ours is strange."
"Hmm?" she murmured into his neck.
"I mean, we skipped the awkward small talk, the courting, the dramatic rejection arc…" he listed off.
"Don't forget the blood-drinking ceremony," she added, giggling.
"Right, that too. But you know what's stranger?" His voice dipped lower, teasing.
"What?"
"I kind of like it."
She blinked up at him, surprised. "Oh? Getting soft already, husband?"
He leaned in, brushing his lips against her temple. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just that irresistible."
Lilith's laugh was soft, genuine—like music dancing on windchimes. But just as quickly, her smile faded a little, the same distant look returning to her eyes. She blinked it away again, almost too quickly.
Vespar noticed but didn't call her out on it this time. He simply pulled her closer and whispered, "I'm here… whenever you're ready to tell me."
Outside the window, a tiny ant crawled up the glass frame. At a glance, it seemed ordinary. But its eyes shimmered—silver and unnaturally aware. It paused just at the edge of the windowpane, antennas twitching, its body perfectly still, as if… listening.
---