The Witch With The Mark of The Viper

Alvary laid peacefully on the bed, the morning light filtering through the window and gently kissing his features. The soft glow revealed the contours of his face, creating a serene tableau that captivated my gaze.

His hair, slightly tousled, hinted at the morning's reluctance to release its hold on him. I slowly reached for his hair, enjoying the sleek touch on my fingers. I couldn't help but admire the way the sunlight played with the dark strands, adding a warmth to his appearance. Alvary's features, relaxed in slumber, were a canvas of tranquility.

My eyes traced the curve of his jaw, appreciating the rugged determination etched into its lines. Alvary's morning repose seemed to soften the rogue edges I was accustomed to, unveiling a vulnerability that drew me in.

His lips, gently parted, were inviting and I felt tempted to kiss him as he slept. I couldn't resist a smile that tugged my lips as I remembered the events of yesterday night. His hand was all over me as he locked us away