Napoleon slowly stirred from his slumber, his eyes fluttering open as the first rays of morning light spilled into the room. He found Ciela's head nestled against his chest, her soft breaths creating a gentle rhythm against his skin. The warmth of her body pressed against his filled him with a sense of contentment that he couldn't quite put into words. It was a feeling of complete and utter belonging as if they were two puzzle pieces that had finally found their perfect fit.
Napoleon's fingers traced delicate patterns along Ciela's bare arm, relishing the softness of her skin beneath his touch.
As Ciela stirred, her eyelashes fluttered against his chest, and her eyes met his.
"Good morning, my love," he whispered, his voice a gentle caress in the hushed stillness of the room.