Habits were terrible, terrible things. There was once a time when Xion used to sleep in a tiny room, barely enough for him to straighten his back.
Now, despite having the entire room and bed to himself, he found himself in a daze for almost a whole night.
He had belatedly discovered that he was no longer able to sleep without Darius clinging to him.
Just a night before, he had shoved the Archduke away, claiming that it was suffocating, only for Darius to laugh and hold him closer.
He had fallen asleep so peacefully even in that python-like grip that he himself felt absurd.
However, the previous night was truly a nightmare. He had barely managed to fall into a hazy dream when it was already time to wake up.
Now, normally, no one would dare to wake the consort of the Archduke in the wee hours, but today was different after all.
With the sun barely illuminating the ground, Xion was first pushed into a scented bath.
