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Summary
The moment between sleeping and waking was a drawn-out tenuous thing, a warm darkness with an absence of true consciousness. Scar floated in that darkness, more sensation than solid form, with only the faintest awareness of her physical body. She was still asleep, and knew she was still asleep, but wasn't able to move or bring herself back to complete wakefulness.
Very faintly, Scar became aware of a familiar heat unfurling through her body, hot and syrupy. Oh, Scar thought distantly, it was going to be that kind of a night. She let herself press closer into that feeling, sinking into it as pleasure sparked dully throughout her body.
But she couldn't stay in that state of partial sleep forever; she had to wake up eventually.
Lucidity came back to her as a blurred picture, leaving her to bring it slowly into focus. Her room was still nighttime-dark, and she was so, so warm. There was a solid heat at her back, arms wrapped loosely around her torso, a wing draped overtop her like another blanket. There was a mouth at her neck, a hand splayed just beneath her rib cage.
Scar drew in a sharp breath, tensing involuntarily in Grian's arms—it had to have been Grian behind her, who else could it be?