No god between us

The room was dark, save for the low orange glow of the antique lamp on the bedside table.

Vincenzo lay on his side, arms locked tight around Noel, feeling the slow, soft rise and fall of his chest against his own.

For the first time in what felt like eternity, it was peaceful.

Warm.

Real.

He buried his nose in Noel’s hair, breathing in the soft scent of him…clean, faintly like vanilla. His heart tightened. If he could, he would stay like this forever. No wars. No blood. No betrayals.

Just them.

His phone buzzed, sharp against the silence.

Vincenzo cursed under his breath and reached over Noel’s sleeping form for it.

The screen read: Elene Ricci.

His jaw flexed.

He carefully shifted out of bed, covering Noel with the heavy comforter, and padded across the ridiculously large bedroom Isadora had given them. It was nearly the size of his penthouse master suite. Gilded mirrors, marble floors, velvet drapes that made no sound even as they swayed with the wind.

He answered on the third buzz.