Inquisitive thoughts
Kiiryon awoke the next morning rather heavily, eyes prying open with a hesitant glare to what he may find. His body and limbs tired but not too entirely sore, his eyes ached with waking. The elf had fallen into a deep slumber after he and the detective came to the end of their intimate folies. He could smell the sweat and cologne of the detective on him, and he felt the secure sensation of an arm that was curled limply around him. Experimentally, Kiiryon gave a twitching flex of his fingers, his pupils narrowing to focus with the faintest speckles of sunlight to peek in from the wood shutters. Grunting with a sigh, the elf lulled his head and found the action to be a bit stiff, Kiiryon flinched, reaching to slowly with breath slow and shallow to touch at his lobe curiously knowing it was abused prior.
Perhaps they were a bit too rough--but they both had too much stress he knew and uncertainties often made one sloppy. Slyly his lips pulled into a smile, Kiiryon recalled the little wounds he had left upon the detectives flesh, he wasn’t so innocent. He had a good thought to place the soreness of his limbs to this theory, and yet in the warm embrace and comfort of the bed, the elf found it hard to remove himself and disturb the human. But, he knew they would have to work today--granted, he was also perfectly fine with the case being a failure and returning home. And yet, that wasn’t a choice despite its temptation-- Esther would take pride in knowing she had to do little to cash him away, and Kiiryon wouldn’t especially allow that.
Lips pursing, Kiiryon swallowed the dryness in his throat away. Slowly shifting his weight with an inhale, the elf tucked his arms in and rolled with a bump of his hips to face the detective curiously. Hands bracing to the soft cotton of the mattress and pushing up cautiously, Kiiryon peered down upon the human with his bloody waterfall of hair to curtain a shoulder. His golden eyes twinkling in curiousness to see whether or not the detective had awoken, or would swiftly awaken.
Quietly he cooed a soft purr, the faint speckles of sunlight burning against his flesh to warm as the blanket was settled loosely to his waist. Eyes wandering down along the patches of bodily hair the detective possessed to seek out what memories were left on him--what stories were made. And he know he did not mean to, but there was a particular fondness to the bite beneath Casey’s left pectoral-- a possessiveness truly.
Curiously, the elf leaned in and with eyes fluttering shut, pressed his tipped ear upon the slowly rising and falling chest, to listen to the heart that beat beneath. The heart that belonged to him.
And that twinge of odd feelings consumed him once more, beckoned him to claim the heart and eyes that were his, and his alone. “Good morning.” spoke the elf in a hushed tone.
