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36. An Ally
Damian
Pocketing the note, I padded to the kitchen where Andrew had left some rations. I took the food upstairs and entered the room. Myra was still sleeping peacefully. I admire her sleeping form for a moment from the doorway. A slender bare arm splayed on the side where I had been half-sitting sometime ago, her lips slightly parted and her bare shoulder adorned by a few fading marks peek from the covers. Her skin looked pale against the dark covers. I lit a few candles to chase away the darkness, gradually setting in the room. I placed the tray on the bedside table and gently shook her awake.
She blinked her eyes open, a languid smile blooming on her lips. I mirrored back her smile and bend down to kiss her lips softly. "I brought food," I murmured against her lips. She hummed in contentment. She sat up, the bed covers pooling to her waist, I drank in the sight — her bare torso, covered only by her cascading brown tresses, her neck baring
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