Dillon, The Monster

The morning light crept in through a narrow gap in the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The faint rays danced over discarded clothing strewn around haphazardly, a shirt draped over the back of a chair, a pair of trousers crumpled on the floor, and Niko's tunic lying in a heap near the bed.

The bedding was a tangled mess, the sheets twisted and rumpled, and the scent of last night's passion still lingered in the air.

Niko stirred first, his eyes fluttering open to the sight of Dillon sleeping peacefully beside him. A quiet smile spread across his lips as he studied Dillon's relaxed face, taking in every feature, the slight curve of his lips, the shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way a lock of hair fell across his forehead. His heart raced as he realized how lucky he was, how surreal it felt to wake up beside someone like Dillon, who had unexpectedly and entirely captured his heart.