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A profound gaze lingered, etching the tableau into memory.

Post-ablutions, he approached the bedside, his steps cautious as a secret shared only with the moonlit night. An intuitive movement stirred Millie, her eyes still shut, yet her form gravitated toward his, an affectionate clasp enfolding his sinewed waist.

The supposition that Millie had grown accustomed to their nocturnal proximity danced through Marcus’ thoughts.

Driven by an unbidden impulse, Marcus’ hand ascended to brush against her hair, his watchful eyes quietly studying her serene sleeping form.

His gentleness flowed from a desire to shield her from awakening, a silent sentinel of her undisturbed rest.

Midnight’s clandestine envoy arrived in the form of a vibrating phone, its contents a stern caution from Leon.

“Guard her well from harm’s way.”

motion as calculated as the breeze’s caress, Marcus erased the message, permitting the device

ensconced in supple leather, unburdened itself of formality as the shirt’s buttons yielded to liberation. Elegantly, his lengthy limbs found

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the prior night-the forewarning of escalating

the condition. Marcus’s

narrowed subtly, the room imbued

the door, Millie’s presence was heralded by gentle

tea. Would you care for

Marcus ensconced in the study once

the cigarette in his grasp, rising to attend to the air purifier. With a sense of urgency, he organized the

“Honey.”

Millie’s hand, he guided her into the