Lucien's "yes" and the soft kiss that preceded it were all the Irishman needed. This catapulted the two men into a night filled with passion, love, and their eventual release. Faolan had exhausted nearly all of his usually bottomless energy that night, wanting to be sure that Lucien received all of the pleasure that he could give him. Rapture was the closest word the Irishman could think of to describe the feeling of being able to be with Lucien in this way. The Frenchman had given himself fully to Faolan, and he had done the same in return. That night, they became fully each other's, and Faolan had never been happier.

He had been so drained, that he hadn't awoken once in the night. He slept deeply and fully, and didn't even awake with the sunrise as he usually did. He didn't feel Lucien move, or notice that he was being watched...he was so peacefully asleep that he barely realized when the Frenchman kissed him. He only noticed it because he had been craving it so badly, subconsciously, that the kiss broke the surface just enough to rouse him.

[color=a36209]"Mmmm..."[/color] he moaned, another unbidden smile appearing on his lips. Slowly, his long eyelashes fluttered open and his eyes fell upon the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

[color=a36209]"Good mornin',"[/color] he said, his voice raspy and quiet, before he closed his eyes once more and tightened his grip around Lucien's waist. He knew that he should be waking now, getting ready for the day, but the last thing he wanted to do was let the Nephilim go. He wanted to stay like this forever, in perfect warmth and happiness, surrounded by love and light.