#[interaction :: melanie dragoumis :: 002]

[marcoxdecastilla]

Closed Starter: @drdrago​

***

The morning comes on relentlessly, and when the first rays of dawn pour in bright lines through the window blinds to rouse him Marco’s eyes flutter open groggily.  His sleep-addled brain manages to realize two things immediately: First, he is not in his own bed...and second, perhaps more importantly, he is not alone.  That’s enough to properly wake him up.  His now-functioning mind starts to whir, orienting itself and assessing the series of events that got him here.  He’d come over to Melanie’s last night; they’d had dinner, flopped onto her sofa to watch some trashy horror flick they’d found on Netflix, she’d opened a bottle of wine, and...oh.  

Right.  So much for taking things slow.

Not that he’s complaining.  A smile spreads across his face, and he dares to turn his head to the side.  His beard stubble catches in strands of long, silken hair as the alchemist shifts, and he has to do a double-take at the sleeping form curled against his side to reassure himself that all of it wasn’t just a very pleasant dream.  Melanie is still fast asleep; her head pillowed on his shoulder.  She’s like something from a storybook, he thinks, lips parted in slumber just-so and porcelain skin seeming to glow as an errant tendril of sunlight slips through the window, as though it longs to touch her as much as he does.  Cautious fingers move to brush the hair from her face, and he ducks his chin to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.  There was a time, not so long ago, when Marco had believed he had lost this forever.  He knows how lucky he is, to wake up next to her again.

Part of him is inclined to lie there beside her all day.  He considers it.  It’s probably after six by the time he finally relents--late for the warlock, who is usually out the door and on his morning run by this hour--but Melanie has always preferred to sleep in.  And so he lets her, careful not to jostle the slumbering witch as he disentangles their bodies and slips out of bed.  It takes him a moment to find his boxers amongst the pile of clothes haphazardly discarded on the floor and pull them on before he makes his way to her kitchen to start some coffee.  While it percolates, Marco puts together a light plate of fruit, buttered toast, and a basic omelette.  A short while later the mattress beside Melanie dips under his weight as he leans over her to set a tray laden with their breakfast and two mugs of coffee atop the nightstand. His lips brush lightly against hers before trailing a slow line of kisses up her jaw to whisper in her ear, “Good morning, Beautiful.”

.