The Hyperion, Saturday Morning
As Bel began to wake up, he realized he was warm. Well, as a demon he was always warm, but when it was a vampire who was in your bed, they tended to leech the heat away. Not only was he warm, but there was more than one body in the bed with him. His memory was foggy enough that he couldn't remember exactly whom he'd slept with last night. Veronica? Lindsey? Tyler? All three? Not that he discriminated much about sharing his bed. Whoever it was, they must've left to feed and returned. Hence the warmth.
He opened his eyes, but it didn't register right away that there was a window in the room, and sunlight was streaming through the curtains. Instead he was staring at the woman curled against him. The other occupant of the bed was forgotten in his shock. It wasn't possible.
"Phoebe!" he said, pulling her into his arms as she made a sleepy noise of protest. She was alive. He didn't understand or care how, but she was alive.
[For the other occupants of the bed. Up early in case I sleep late. In case?]
He opened his eyes, but it didn't register right away that there was a window in the room, and sunlight was streaming through the curtains. Instead he was staring at the woman curled against him. The other occupant of the bed was forgotten in his shock. It wasn't possible.
"Phoebe!" he said, pulling her into his arms as she made a sleepy noise of protest. She was alive. He didn't understand or care how, but she was alive.
[For the other occupants of the bed. Up early in case I sleep late. In case?]