The Devil is the Villainess

Chapter XXXVI: What It Means To Love (2)

Medea nestled her head into what she thought was a pillow, seeking comfort and warmth. Gradually, the sound of a soft, rhythmic heartbeat seeped into her awareness, pulling her from the fringes of sleep. She fluttered her eyelids open, blinking slowly as her surroundings came into focus. To her surprise, the "pillow" she had been hugging was not an inanimate object but a living, breathing person. Caelus lay beside her, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of deep slumber.

Medea's heart skipped a beat as she realized his arms were securely wrapped around her waist, holding her close even in sleep, as if he feared losing her. She sighed softly, deciding not to disturb the peaceful moment. She remained still, lying on her side, her eyes tracing the delicate lines of his face. His silver locks cascaded across his forehead, partially obscuring his serene features.

Her thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Exhausted and drained of energy, she had found herself too weak to summon the magic needed to teleport back to her own quarters. In a gesture of kindness, Caelus had offered her his bed, intending to take the sofa for himself. However, she had insisted they share the bed, leading to an initially awkward but now tender entanglement.

Closing her eyes briefly in disbelief at the situation, she opened them again to gaze at his angelic face. Curiosity got the better of her, and she lifted a hand, gently brushing aside a few strands of hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered, caressing his cheek with a tenderness that surprised even her. She traced the contours of his face—his closed eyes, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks, and finally paused at his lips.

Just as her fingers stilled, Caelus stirred. His eyes slowly opened, revealing a sleepy yet affectionate gaze. "Medea?" he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. His grip on her waist tightened momentarily as his hand moved to rub her lower back in a soothing gesture.

Clearing her throat, Medea responded, "I'm still here."

Caelus's eyes met hers, and for a moment, he seemed lost in the depths of her ruby-colored gaze, which sparkled like precious gems in the morning light. A flicker of curiosity passed over his features as he studied her. He was as if staring at her soul. Was it always like that? 

Without breaking eye contact, he gently cupped her cheek with one hand. And sensing his intent, Medea closed her eyes, feeling the soft press of his lips against her eyelid in a tender kiss.

When she opened her eyes again, the brilliant ruby hue had faded to a more subdued shade of red. Caelus noticed the change and smiled, a soft, genuine expression that made Medea's heart flutter.

"So, it was the thing that I saw when we were dancing that night," he remarked, his voice filled with a sense of wonder.

Medea furrowed her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Caelus chuckled softly and shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. "Nothing," he replied, pinching her cheek lightly.

Medea couldn't help but smile back, the moment filling her with a warmth she hadn't anticipated. As they lay there, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in a cocoon of shared intimacy and unspoken feelings.

Medea blinked, a sudden realization dawning on her as she sensed Caelus teetering on the edge of sleep once more. Reacting quickly, she sat up in bed, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't you have a job to do?" she asked, her voice laced with urgency.

Caelus blinked groggily, slowly sitting up and running a hand through his long, tousled silver hair, his brows furrowed in thought. "Ah, right," he murmured, a frown tugging at his lips. His expression of mild annoyance made Medea study him in silence, her thoughts churning.