Their shoes were scattered haphazardly, one here and one there, announcing in a completely chaotic manner just how impatient their owners had been last night.
Not to mention the large master bed. The originally smooth bedsheets had been crumpled into a tangled mess, looking as though they had weathered the baptism of a storm.
Aiden's gaze finally landed at the head of the bed.
There, the sole protagonist and audience member of last night's unparalleled symphony was hugging the soft quilt, leaning languidly against the headboard.
She heard the sound of the door opening and slowly lifted her head.
It was a breathtaking scene—a masterpiece of "first bloom" beautiful enough to drive any artist mad.
Robin's waist-length, silver-purple hair had lost its usual exquisite smoothness, instead draping messily over her shoulders and the snow-white sheets like a tumbled nebula.
A few disobedient strands playfully stuck to her flushed cheeks, further accentuating those lake-green eyes. They looked like a dew-kissed forest shrouded in morning mist—rippling with light, carrying the hazy, charming innocence of someone who had just stepped into the adult world.
Faint tear tracks still lingered at the corners of her eyes.
But they weren't traces of sorrow. Rather, they were the sweet remnants of ultimate joy that had detonated in the depths of her soul, overflowing when her body could no longer contain it.
She subconsciously pulled the quilt up higher, attempting to cover herself.
But the movement caused the blanket to slip down slightly instead, revealing her smooth, rounded shoulder and a small patch of her delicate collarbone.
And upon that skin, which was as snow-white as premium mutton-fat jade, bloomed several small, ambiguous "red flowers."
Those were the domineering yet tender marks left exclusively by last night's conductor during his impassioned performance.
Every single bloom was a scorching musical note, together composing a secret symphony titled "Possession."
Seeing Aiden standing at the door holding a breakfast tray and staring at her somewhat blankly, Robin's cheeks burned with an even deeper shade of red.
Biting her lower lip, feeling both embarrassed and at a total loss for what to do, she buried her face into the quilt. She only left a pair of watery eyes exposed, looking like a startled fawn.
Watching her like this, the softest part of Aiden's heart felt as though it had been fiercely prodded.
He couldn't help but chuckle. Closing the door, he walked over with the tray.
"Awake? I brought you breakfast." His voice was brimming with a spoiling tenderness that even he hadn't noticed.
He set the tray on the nightstand and naturally sat on the edge of the bed.
The mattress sank under his weight, causing Robin's body to slide a little closer to him.
"Hungry?" He reached out and used the pad of his thumb to gently brush the hair from her cheek, his movements as light as if he were afraid of startling a butterfly.
"Mhm." Robin let out a hum from under the quilt that sounded like a mosquito.
Last night's "symphony" had been performed for the entire night. She felt as though every cell in her body had been squeezed dry; right now, she was indeed exhausted and starving.
"Here, open up."
Aiden had no intention of letting her feed herself. He picked up the soft bread, tore off a small piece, and carefully brought it to her lips, like feeding a baby bird.
Robin hesitated for a second, but obediently opened her small mouth and took the bread in.
The warm aroma of wheat dissolved in her mouth, drawing a soft sigh of satisfaction from her completely empty stomach.
And just like that, one bite of bread, one sip of milk, he patiently fed her.
He fed her very slowly, with great patience, as if conducting a sacred ritual.
Whenever a drop of milk spilled from the corner of her mouth, he would lower his head and tenderly kiss the milky white droplet away. The gesture drew a series of light shudders from Robin, making the blush on her cheeks bloom even more beautifully.
It was a silent, yet incredibly intimate exchange.
Their gazes locked together, as if the entire world contained only the two of them.
From her watery, rippling eyes, he saw unreserved trust and reliance. From his deeply affectionate gaze, she read a love and cherishment that had seeped into his very bones.
After finishing breakfast, Robin's body finally recovered some strength.
And with her strength returned, her intelligent brain—the brain of the team's tactician—began to turn once more.
She glanced at the bright sunlight outside the window, then at the clearly "packaged" breakfast on the nightstand. Suddenly, an incredibly clear thought caused her brain to instantly crash.
—She, Robin, the Vice-Captain of the Focalors Familia, had been absent from the morning's full-team breakfast.
And the reason for her absence...
Given Hyacine and Tifa's sharpness, and Jeanne's pure but far from stupid mind, they absolutely, certainly, one-hundred-percent had already guessed what happened last night.
"Ah—!"
Robin let out a soft, mortified cry of indignation, tinged with a sob. She instantly turned the color of a boiled shrimp, flushing red from her cheeks all the way down to her neck.
She yanked the covers over her head, curling into a tight ball on the bed.
"I have no face left to see anyone... How am I supposed to face everyone later..."
Watching Robin root around under the blanket, acting like an ostrich trying to escape reality, Aiden found it both hilarious and adorable.
He reached out and scooped her up—blanket and all—entirely into his arms.
"There, there. What does it matter?" he comforted her, patting her back gently through the quilt.
"It's all your fault!"
Robin violently poked her head out of the blanket. Those lake-green eyes were filled with the "fury" of embarrassment. She stuck out her little fists and hammered against Aiden's shoulders again and again, but the force behind them was so light it felt like a tickle.
"Last night... last night you went too far. I clearly said I couldn't take any more, but you still..."
"Yes, yes, yes. It's all my fault. Blame me."
Aiden immediately raised both hands in a gesture of surrender, eagerly taking all the blame upon himself. "It's my fault. I was too rash. Please punish me, Madam Vice-Captain."
Aiden said this with his mouth, a spoiling smile plastered across his face, but inwardly, he was frantically making sarcastic retorts.
I wonder who exactly it was last night, after reaching the peak time and time again, who still wrapped those long, firm legs tightly around my waist like vines, using broken, sobbing moans to beg me 'don't stop,' pushing that unparalleled symphony to new climaxes over and over again.
It really wasn't his fault for getting a taste of the sweetness and losing all self-control.
After all, that was such a magnificent and sacred symphony. Anyone else in his shoes would have done the exact same thing.
When he had transformed into the wildest performer, playing the movement of life on that absolute top-tier instrument known as "Robin," he could clearly feel that she, too, had been deeply intoxicated by it. Her very soul had been singing and trembling for it.
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