Cold was a double-edged sword.
It either meant trembling under layers of clothing, the cold seeping into your bones despite the fire crystals held close — just like Xion had experienced over the last few days.
Or it could be an absolute haven. And that was precisely the case for Xion now.
With his body warm and cozy under the heaviness of the soft duvet, the room's chill felt almost pleasant.
He had no idea when he'd fallen asleep or when someone had carried him here.
His face was pressed against the pillow, inhaling a faint, familiar scent woven deep into its fabric.
Cedarwood. Xion's foggy brain picked up the scent that had taken root in the recesses of his mind.He drew a long breath of the aroma tinged with sweetness before burrowing deeper into the thick, fluffy pillow.
His long eyelashes trembled, then fluttered open as a large sigh escaped his parted lips — proof of just how comfortable he was.
