An Astronomer's Guide to Falling Angels

Chapter 24

The early morning air was cool and crisp, a sharp contrast to the warmth cocooning Astor and Arty beneath their shared blanket. The sky outside the tent's thin fabric was a pale blue, the sun just beginning to rise and spread its golden light over the camp. They lay tangled in one another, the quiet of the world around them amplifying the intimacy of their embrace.

Astor was snugly tucked against Arty's chest, her arm wrapped protectively around his waist. His soft, dark hair brushed against her chin as she rested her head lightly atop his, breathing in the faint scent of his skin. His small, delicate frame was warm against hers, both of them hidden under the thick blanket that obscured the fact that neither of them were clothed. The heat of their bodies radiated through the layers of fabric, a reminder of the closeness they had shared the night before.

For a while, everything was still. The soft rhythm of their breathing was the only sound as they remained lost in their own world, nestled together in the comforting silence. Astor shifted slightly in his sleep, his head nuzzling further into the crook of Arty's neck, a small sigh escaping his lips. Arty held him closer, content to just feel him there, his presence a quiet reassurance.

Suddenly, the harsh blare of the camp counselor's horn shattered the stillness, jolting them both awake. Astor's eyes fluttered open, his body stiffening for a moment before he realized where he was. The sound of the horn echoed across the campsite, signaling the beginning of a new day. Groaning softly, Astor instinctively burrowed deeper into Arty's chest, his face hidden against her skin.

"It's too early," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the blanket as he fought against the urge to fully wake up. His limbs were heavy with exhaustion, the memories of the previous night flooding back to him in a warm, hazy blur.

Arty chuckled softly, her breath tickling his ear. "I know," she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But we should probably get up soon, before someone comes looking for us."

Astor only grumbled in response, his arms slipping around her waist as if to keep her close, unwilling to move just yet. He felt so safe, so completely wrapped in her warmth, and the thought of leaving the comfort of her arms seemed unbearable.

Arty looked down at him, her expression soft and fond. The way he fit so perfectly against her, how he seemed so peaceful and at ease, made her heart swell with affection. She shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him too much as she pulled the blanket tighter around them.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with concern. "Are you sore or hurt from last night?"

Astor, who had been teetering on the edge of sleep again, opened his eyes and blinked up at her. His cheeks flushed a deep red as the memories came flooding back—their bodies moving together, the whispered words, the overwhelming sensations. He bit his lip, his heart pounding in his chest as he remembered how gentle Arty had been, how considerate she was.

He shook his head, his blush deepening. "I'm fine," he whispered, glancing up at her through his lashes. "You were... really gentle."

The smile that spread across Arty's face was one of pure relief. She had worried, even in the moment, about pushing him too far or hurting him, though he had given her nothing but reassurance. Now, seeing him here, so close, so content—it put her mind at ease in a way she hadn't even realized she needed.

They lay there for a while longer, wrapped in the quiet serenity of the early morning. The camp horn had gone silent, replaced by the faint sounds of rustling tents and distant chatter as the other campers began to stir. But here, in the small sanctuary of their tent, time seemed to stretch out, allowing them to bask in the warmth of each other.