Varian pov
A dull thud pulses against my temples, surprisingly unrelated to alcohol consumption.
Months, years worth of stress and obligation are culminating into a particularly stomach turning mix.
It's happening soon. Within days, even.
The faint click of my suite door has me sitting up against my pillows. It's late morning, the golden haze of sun is warming my bedroom floor.
Claude saunters in, his shirt hanging open, baring his chest to me. The buttons have clearly been torn by an ardent lover, their hands having raked viciously through his tousled hair.
"Holy f**k it smells like s*x in here." His face screws up, his free hand waving in front of his nose.
"Uh huh." I take the cup of coffee he offers me, setting it on my bedside table.
A twin pair of dark slashes hang beneath hi
