Darius wanted Xion desperately.
It was despicable of him, really, to allow his mind to wander into darker territories when he felt Xion on his lap, so warm, so gentle, so heartbreakingly defenseless.
If he wished, he could burn that duvet into ashes at the flick of his fingers.
But, of course, he curbed those primal desires. He needed something to focus on, to keep his mind grounded.
There was only one person who could do so. Thus, he hugged Xion closer.
That had only made things more difficult.
The archduke lowered his head slightly, breathing in the familiar scent that clung to Xion's damp skin — sweet, soft, and sinfully intoxicating.
It smelled faintly of vanilla, like the delicate whisper of some forbidden confection.
(Darius had no idea that it was merely a shampoo, purchased from the system.)
But damn, did he like it.
