Eliza and Thomas slowly woke up, tangled in each other’s arms, sharing warmth, their forms contoured to the shape of the humble mattress beneath them. The old, creaky bed was cozy, every squeak hinting at its long history. The sheets enveloped them, a cocoon of soft, warm fabric with a calming scent of lavender that permeated the fibers, reminiscent of summer fields and offering a gentle embrace. The texture of the bedding, worn soft through years of use, was a reassuring touch against their skin, grounding them in this intimate setting.
The sister witches sighed in relief, happy with what they saw. They discreetly left the room, knowing too well these two had much to discuss.
“Eliza,” Thomas began. His voice was rough from sleep as he struggled to find the right words to span the chasm
