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Luz gazed down at the sweet face beneath her, blinking languidly even as she smiled. The beginnings of sunlight played across his features, the features she'd come to hold so dear in such a short time, and she found it more worthwhile to take him in than to let sleep take her. The content smile on his face helped, as did the way his ashy hair absorbed the creeping light.
She should sleep. She knew that—and she knew he'd be giving her a gentle (if biting) earful about it if he knew she was awake—but there was something anxious beneath her skin keeping her from dreaming. It buzzed like a nest of wasps, angry and anxious and territorial. She couldn't name it, not really—or more so, she didn't want to—but regardless, it inspired the need to lay her head against the chest of the man beside her, eyes wide open, and so she did.
Something about the beating of his heart calmed her. Not entirely, sadly, but enough to send the angry buzzing in her veins to a quiet simmer.
Ever the light sleeper, Philip hummed lethargically at her touch. "Hn lyum 'uz?" he mumbled.
Luz laughed quietly. "You can go back to sleep," she whispered. "I'm sorry, auyama. I didn't mean to wake you."
Instead, Philip stretched out like a too-large cat and rolled them over so they're chest to chest, lying on their sides. "Good morning," he said simply. His voice was rough with sleep. Oh, he sounded so handsome in the mornings. It was enough to make her laugh again, butterflies fluttering in her gut even after all this time.
“Good morning,” she replied, brushing a stray hair from his face.
He hummed again before finally opening his eyes. Those stone-blue eyes caught her gaze and kept it. "Did you sleep? You look…tired." The words are punctuated by a quiet yawn.
"Um… Funny you should ask that." Luz chewed on her lip.
Philip grumbled knowingly, but he didn't sound upset with her, at least. "Insomnia again?" he guessed.
"Kind of." Luz huffed a sigh. "I'm just… freaking out, I guess. I don't want to bother you with that when you just woke up—"
"Shh," Philip held her closer to him. "None of that. You tell me what you need no matter the time, hm? It's no bother to me. And if it were…" He looked at her expectantly.
She laughed shyly. "...Then it would be okay then too. I know." She ran her hand through his silky hair. "It's—When they find out… Philip, I don't know how they'll react."
He blinked at her, his expression saying what his mouth didn’t: Oh, right. The reminder that their rendezvous couldn't remain a secret forever caught him off guard. He didn't seem terribly enthused by where her mind had been all night. Which, admittedly, wasn’t the best reaction—but it wasn’t the worst, either, and she could take comfort in that. At the very least, Philip had never been the type of man to wallow in guilt (when it wasn't about you-know-who, anyway) and so Luz felt better for having brought it up than if he were.
When he found his words, Philip’s voice remained low but firm, "That’s...understandable." His brows furrowed together, face morphing in concentration. "It might be ego, lambkin, but if they can't support you—"
Luz shook her head. "Don't start with that. They have every reason to disapprove."
"Just as they have every reason to stand by your side and trust the choices you've made. Even if those choices are, admittedly, me."
"Hmm." Rolling her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a peck on the nose, right where his scarred bump was. If he was bothered by it, the way he returned with a smiling kiss on her own round nose did a hell of a job hiding it. "Hah… You know it sucks when you’re actually right, don’t you?"
Finally, finally, he let his mouth crack into a wicked smirk. The expression used to fill her with righteous anger, so long ago, but now those butterflies in her belly were ignited.
"You've always done what you can to help them rebuild after…" His hands moved up to rest on top of hers. That smirk left as fast as it came, eyes gazing off to the side. "After what I did to them."
After you tried to kill them and everyone they loved, was what the stubborn, rational part of her mind yelled. And all you wanted to do with me was take me back to my mom. Because that was what happened, and that was the issue. It would be one thing if Philip had been the average cartoon villain, doing evil to be evil and in dire need of a serious ass-whooping to stop his dastardly deeds. It nearly ended up being another when she and Lilith were close to becoming part of the victim list—and that only happened because he didn’t know she was human. Just Luz.
And…man, she couldn’t spit it out, could she?
"They have every right to hate me, lambkin. Loathe me, even." Philip moved her hands away from his neck and held them, gentle but firm. "And I know as well that they mean everything to you, and so do you for them."
Luz didn't want to say what she was thinking out loud. "And so do I, you mean. Have every right to loathe you."
Philip wasn't cowed. "You do," he said simply. Then he laughed. "I sometimes do. When the mood takes me."
She kissed him then, meaningfully. "Dummy. You're different now." And so am I, she didn't say. That girl of yesteryear wouldn't love this man, would she?
Philip hummed noncommittally. "Sure. If you say so."
Luz scoffed, but it quickly turned into a laugh. "You're impossible… You're lucky I love you."
His grin was wide and bright and as certain as the sunrise glowing through their window. "I am."
Her worries weren’t quite subdued, but that grin was enough to make her ignore them, just for the moment. That fear of loss, of rejection—it would chase her to the grave, she thought. But so would this love, warm and calm, that she held in her heart for this strange, awful, wonderful man.
"I'm lucky too," she whispered, like a secret, and grinned.