All things considered, it was a nice ceiling.

  He'd had several bells to observe it, lying on his inn bed, hands under his head.

  Sleep didn't want to come to him. It wasn't even in the same room as him, no matter how much he called after it.

  He let out a long, deep breath. Please, go to sleep. You'll wake up before you know it, you'll get up, have a quick bite, then be on your way to the auto-car and back on the road, back to being a free courier.

  It was simple, direct, and easy. He just had to somehow sleep.

  So why didn't he want to?

  He felt as if he stood before a door, one that would close after he'd stepped through. A door he'd been waiting to come back to. A door that led to somewhere he knew, was familiar with.

  A door that somehow felt wrong. There was a tiny voice shouting at him from around a corner, telling him that taking another step would be a mistake, that he'd already taken too many steps. One more would lead to something bad.

  He was on edge, alert, restless, his instincts blaring away.

  He closed his eyes, seeking some sort of inner dark room for his mind to step into, to find peace and quiet. He felt for the doorknob with his mind's eye, grasping onto it, twisting it, and pushing into the room.

  A hundred Nialas greeted him.

  His eyes snapped open.

  Through the opened gate they flew out, invading his thoughts like song birds alighting on a tree in numbers so great you'd swear it was in full bloom.

  It was the most beautiful tree he'd ever hallucinated.

  Something tickled his cheek. He brought a finger up to brush it off. It came back damp.

  Wild-eyed, he sat up along the edge of the bed. Gravity pulled away the tears that had begun pooling around his orbs. He wiped them away, held his hands out in front of him, stared at them as if they were dripping with blood.

  All of his walls crashed down. The revealed light devoured the shadows, burning his senses away, forcing itself through his eyes and into his brain, invading the darkness's last refuge.

  He didn't want to sleep; he didn't want to step through that door, because it led away from her.

  Because he would eternally regret every time he had wanted to take her hand, to hold her, to say he liked her, how much she meant to him, but hadn't.

  He'd just smiled.

  Even when he stabbed her heart, saying he was leaving, that if he'd stayed, he wouldn't have been able to get away, as if running away from a creature trying to ensnare him.

  He'd forced himself to just smile.

  His chest felt hollow, collapsing upon itself. What had stopped him? Why hadn't he told her what she meant to him?

  A heavy iron gate slammed shut in the darkness. He was alone, thrown out, discarded, barred from going back, because he hadn't been strong enough, hadn't been able to endure the responsibilities expected out of him.

  Fear, fear of failing her. Fear of not being good enough, strong enough, to stand by her side when she'd need it most.

  In cold sweat, he realized there was something greater coiled around his heart, ready to rip it out, just waiting for him to take that one last step away from her.

  Something titanic that eclipsed his fear of failing her.

  The fear of losing her.

  He scrambled from his bed, slammed his clothes on, rammed his feet in his boots, and stampeded out of his room, down the stairs, out of the inn.

  He ran, back to where he'd left himself, hoping it wasn't too late.

  In the middle of the night, he pounded the knocker as if the door had insulted him. He didn't let up until the light inside turned on, until he heard the door unlock.

  Ensconced in a duvet, eyes bloodshot, subdued and fragile, Niala opened the door.

  Founding gods, she was so beautiful.

  “David?” She squeaked, rubbing her eyes. “Did... did you forget something?”

  He smiled. A wide, all-encompassing, meaningful smile.

  He didn't know what to say.

  She tilted her head. “David?”

  “I'm sorry. There's too many things I want to say all at once.” His smile never leaving his face.

  “I guess I'll just say, I'm an idiot. I didn't understand. I don't want to leave. Can I stay?”

  “I... you... You mean for the night?” She ventured.

  He shook his head. “Longer than that.”

  She hesitated. “How... how long?”

  “How long can I stay? How long will you let me stay?”

  “For... however long you want?”

  “Good, because I want to stay forever.” He stared straight into her eyes.

  “I... you...” She seemed lost, torn between two realities.

  He gently lifted her head, slowly bent forward, and brought his mouth to hers.

  Their lips touched, pressed on each other. She flashed shock, surprise, realization, acceptance, before finally closing her eyes and melting into bliss.

  He cupped her shoulders with his hands, let the moment endure, locked to each other.

  An eternity later, time flowing once more, he pulled back. They opened their eyes, gazes entwined.

  Big, bright, beautiful amethyst eyes shone into his soul. She said nothing, did nothing, afraid a single syllable or errant movement would shatter the dream.

  He stepped in, closed and locked the door behind him, palmed the switchstone, killing the lights.

  In the moon-bathed dimness, he picked her up in a princess carry, walked to the stairs, and up to the second story. Her eyes didn't blink, never stopped looking at him, her hands pulling in the duvet tight, pressing herself into his torso.

  He felt her. He felt her warmth, her shape, through the layers of fabric. He didn't think his heart could beat this hard. His head was absent; he moved on instinct.

  He walked into Niala's bedroom, gently depositing her on the bed, still rolled up in her duvet. He stepped out and went to one of the other bedrooms, dressing down to his underwear and retrieving an extra bed sheet.

  She remained silent and tracked him as he walked back in, half-naked. He draped the sheet on one side of the bed, lay upon it, facing Niala, and covered himself with it. He scooted over to her, close enough for their bodies to touch through the sheets, snaking an arm under the crook of her neck, arcing his other to rest on her back. They locked gaze once more.

  Founding gods, her eyes are so beautiful.

  “David...” She murmured.

  “Yes?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “...There's too many things I want to say.”

  “I get the feeling. I still don't know what to do next.”

  “It was a pretty good start... please tell me it's not going to end? That you won't leave?” She pleaded.

  He smiled, bent his head, and kissed her again. He felt her breath, tasted her lips, her presence filling his nostrils, ears, and mouth. She was his entire world.

  She didn't fight, twitch, or jerk. He felt she would let him kiss her forever if he wanted. His sense of self melded into hers.

  He pulled back.

  “I won't leave. I can't leave. I don't ever want to leave. I want to wake up with you, I want to eat breakfast with you, I want to hear and tell you about our days, I want to help you with everything you want to do, and I want to go to sleep holding you.”

  Her eyes glistened, tears escaping her grasp. She burrowed her head into him, sobbing.

  They remained like this for a while, with David letting his body memorize the feeling of Niala's body pressed against him, and Niala allowing her roiling emotions to settle.

  She eventually pulled her head back, looking him in the eyes. “...If- if I had asked you to stay, told you that you meant a lot to me, and I didn't want to see you go. What would you have done?”

  His smile thinned. “You know, you kind of did tell me, in your own way.”

  She shook her head. “No, don't make excuses for me. I could have said it properly. I just... I was afraid of how you'd react. That you'd say no. I'm sorry.”

  His smile grew wide once more, and he planted a kiss on her forehead, pulling back and looking at her. “You know, to be honest, I think I would have made excuses. I was so certain that what I wanted was to go back to being a courier.”

  “You don't want to anymore? Not- not that I want you to! I just... I don't want to...”

  He put a finger to her lips, shushing her. “I'm still not sure what I feel or what I want, except for two things. I love you, and I want to stay here with you.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes once more.

  “Wel- welcome, home, David,” she managed to say before crying in earnest, each tear washing away the anguish she'd accumulated.

  He held her close.

  Yeah, I'm home.

  Morning came slow, hesitant to disturb them. He stirred first, holding a bundle of warmth in his arms. Niala was curled up against him, face deep in his neck. Her steady breath waves caressing the beach at dawn, lulling him into a trance.

  He didn't remember the last time he'd woken up this rested, body, mind and, aching heart.

  He still didn't fully understand what was going on. His logical thoughts had shattered last night, back at the inn, and they hadn't fully reassembled yet. Considering just how blessed he felt right now, maybe they could wait a little more.

  Nothing mattered right now. Life outside could go on without him. He was staying right here, motionless, watching over her sleeping form.

  The light filtering through the drapes crept onward.

  He felt her wake up, a minuscule spasm as she quickly remembered where she was, and with whom.

  She pulled back her head, sleep-crusted eyes coming up to greet him.

  “...Hi.” She whispered.

  Smiling, he craned his neck to speak into her ears, whispering back.

  “Good morning, Niala.”

  A grunting moan escaped her lips. She nuzzled her head back into his neck.

  “If you do it like that, it's fine. A bit more than fine.” She murmured, her cheeks rosy.

  He felt like the king of the world, who owned all the riches he could ever want.

  He had been so pit bound stupid.

  Why would he ever trade this, moments like this, for anything a free courier's life could get him?

  He squeezed her into him, and she let out a content whimper.

  He smiled.

  They eventually managed to extirpate themselves from each other. Showered, clothed, and refreshed, they met in the kitchen and prepared breakfast together.

  Few words were exchanged. Lingering gazes, beatific smiles, and gentle touches conveyed everything they needed.

  He sat at his usual place. Niala picked up a chair and set it down next to his, sitting and leaning into him. They ate in silence for a while.

  “Last night, when I ran back here after I realized just how badly I'd bungled, I was afraid it was too late, that you wouldn't forgive me.” He admitted.

  “Hmm-hmm. It crossed my mind when I opened the door and saw you smiling like an idiot. Almost wanted to slam the door in your face.”

  “I'm happy your better senses won.”

  She put down her fork and twisted her head to look at him. “It was really painful, you know? When you just... left me there.” She rested on his shoulder. “I thought I had prepared myself to see you leave, but I didn't think it'd hurt so much.”

  He planted a kiss on her head and pulled her in with his arm.

  “A shame I will carry to my grave, and I vow to never repeat.” He leaned his head against hers, as she rubbed it against him slowly.

  Her ears flicked and flattened. “It's not just you. I could have said something earlier.” She said, sighing. “I guess we were both being stupid.”

  “So... what happens now?” She asked from his shoulder.

  “Hmm. You open your shop, I take local postings, make sure I'm back for dinner, and I help you however I can.”

  “I was thinking more... what about us?”

  He had to think about that one for a second.

  “Maybe not think about it too much? I liked the routine we had before, but with a lot more physical contact. And kissing. Can't forget the kissing.” He nodded.

  “But are you my... b...b...” She flushed red.

  “Boyfriend. Yep, and you're my genius super cute girlfriend.” He gave her another kiss on the head.

  She rubbed her head against him, ears flat.

  “I have a boyfriend. A tall, hunky, super dependable, annoying boyfriend.” She delighted.

  “I think one of those doesn't fit.”

  “No, they're all very accurate.” She confirmed.

  “Well, yes, but-”

  “Very accurate.” She repeated.

  “...very accurate.” He agreed.

  That afternoon, they went into town together to the local newspaper. They paid for an advert for Panacea Potions' opening and ordered a small stack of flyers at the same time.

  The rest of the day had the new couple ambulate through town, not really doing anything. Niala wrapped herself around David's arm, contentedly rubbing her head against him whenever she could.

  He didn't mind. She was just really happy. And it made him happy, too.

  Now... now he just had to protect this, what he'd found here. That meant he had to get stronger. Strong enough to keep her safe from anything.

  That meant he had to master his abilities. His training had stopped when he'd been kicked out of his original family's estate. He could do some of it on his own, but what he really needed was an instructor.

  He could think of a single person who had the skills and would be willing and able to move to this nowhere town and train him up.

  He'd have to send them a message, but he was afraid his old family would intercept it.

  He looked down at Niala, her ears wiggling as she kept running her head up and down his arm. He could do nothing but smile, so infectious was her joy.

  He'd have to risk it.

  He'd barely learned the basics of his abilities, just enough not to kill himself using them.

  He had seen the Azure Guards his family had helped train. The elite fighting arm of the Royal family, called in when victory was required, or when nobody else was able to achieve it.

  He'd witnessed them defeat foes four times their size, batter down stone walls with their fists and feet, cross rivers by jumping, counter-charge augmented heavy cavalry on foot, and win. Pits, he'd seen one use his own dismembered arm as a club, boosting it as he would have any weapon, crushing his foes' heads in.

  And yet for all of their prowess and ferocity, the Azure Guards had limited imbuements; mostly dermis-level, with only generic muscle-level ones.

  He'd had every single imbuement his family had records of engraved into his skin, muscles, flesh, organs, and bones. The Wardenfel's arcanosurgeons had carved him up to his core, weeks of intense pain strapped to the imbuing table that his mind even now refused to fully remember.

  He had all of that slumbering power within him, and a near-infinite pool of mana to fuel it.

  He needed to learn how to harness it, so he could keep her safe no matter what.

  Evening came, with it the time for bed. David and Niala stood facing each other, each ready to tuck in.

  Instead of going to her bedroom, she was fidgeting with her fingers, cheeks flushed red, stealing glances at David.

  He was looking at her, head tilted, an amused smile on his face.

  “I'll bite. What's wrong?” He asked.

  “Do... huh... do we... go to bed?” She asked, turning even redder.

  Keeping his smile, he shook his head and walked up to her, picking her up as she meeped.

  He brought her to her room, depositing her at the edge of her bed.

  “Get dressed for bed. I'll turn around... unless you want me to step out?” He turned around.

  “... you can stay, but don't peek!” She warned.

  The soft rustling of shed clothes reached his ears, followed by the sound of someone sliding under the bed covers.

  “You can turn around now.” She said in a tiny voice.

  She was hidden nose-deep under the duvet, amethyst eyes staring at him.

  He palmed the switchstone, turning off the light, walking up to the other side of the bed, and getting undressed. He picked up the sheet he'd used the night before and bent down to set it.

  “No,” She mumbled from under her cover.

  “No?” He tilted his head.

  “... no. Get under the duvet. I don't... want anything between.” She said, pulling the duvet a bit higher over her face.

  He grinned, pulled the cover up, and slid over to her.

  Their skin touched. He felt every bump and curve of her body, her warmth directly against him, as she pressed herself into him. He slid his arms around her, angling her head up.

  He moved his head forward, their lips met, their tongues mingled, their breaths itched, their hearts answered each other in a duo of drums.

  They slid away from each other, sharing one last, longing stare, before she nestled her head back against his neck.

  They fell asleep listening to each other's breathing.