A Not-so-rude Awakening (Lemon)
This story is a work of fiction, all characters resembling real people, living or dead, are entirely coincidental. Fate/Stay Night and it's characters are the work and property of Kinoko Nasu, Takashi Takeuchi and Type-Moon/NOTES.
With that said, the following is a scene set in the near future of a story untold, after the events have wrapped up. Details may not entirely line up when I publish this story, since this is largely practice for writing both the characters, and their relationship I want to explore. As well, there will be other stories all centered on this same shared “ideal” universe that may not fully align with the characters featured.
With that, I hope you all enjoy this, and the stories to come as I finally get myself to start posting here again now that I'm no longer twiddling my thumbs when it comes to becoming involved in the writing side of here.
Oh, before that though, this story was started with the intent of posting it by a certain date a few days back. Though it’s passed, the intent is still true, and I’m not about to leave it unsaid.
Happy Birthday Illya, to my favorite character in all of fiction.
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Warmth. It's something all humans value and desire, even if they may or may not always recognize it. Or, as is more common, take for granted.
The warmth of a fireplace during a cold Autumn night. Of a soft chair providing support and stability. A blanket keeping one's body wrapped up and cozy.
---And, most importantly of all, the tender warmth of another that not all have the privilege of sharing.
It's on this night in the outskirts of a little town in Japan known as Fuyuki, deep in the forests in a tiny cabin where none can disturb them, that Illyasviel von Einzbern and Emiya Shirou are thankful that they can experience all of these things in this moment.
It’s something once thought a fantasy to the two, but that’s made all the warmer through the fact of the moment they share. It’s that warmth Illya focuses on, as she nestles further into the one still asleep in the warm armchair that the two occupy.
Outside of the cabin they've taken as refuge from the world and all its disturbances, the cold will always persist, but it's thanks to the boy next to her that she can experience such warmth in this moment.
For her, it is an undeniable reality, and she will always be grateful.
That said, even a night like this has its imperfections, especially when human beings do tend to be needy little things.
"Shirouuu..."
The boy is nudged by her, a soft, yet pleading voice asking him to wake.
He had just fallen asleep not too long ago, but as always, her voice is all it takes for Shirou to become reminded of his surroundings. Of the warmth next to him, and that brings him such comfort.
"Hey- You fell asleep."
His vision is still blurry coming out of sleep, but he knows she's making a face he knows all too well. A slightly furrowed brow, small, pouting lips, and the finger prodding his chest impatiently further supports this mental image.
Honestly though, who does she think she's fooling?
"ah...and who fell asleep before me?" He looks down at her, and smiles to himself when he sees the exact face he'd pictured.
Illya pouts further, settling to rest her head on his shoulder. It was true, the two had both fallen asleep, but it hadn’t been her intent. And besides...
"Of course I would, anyone would with how many blankets you pulled out."
"You're always asking for more blankets because you're cold though, it's not my fault for being prepared."
"That's besides the point!"
She raises her voice, and Shirou can't help laughing.
"Right, right. Then what is the point, Ms. Einzbern?"
Illya knows she's lost this battle, but she also knows she can still gain the upper-hand. Such a thought is reflected in her devious smile.
Her attack is swift, a kiss to his lips. Though it isn't something Shirou can say he didn't expect, nor does he mind it. He's well aware that it'd be better if he were to give her this one without a fight.
Thus, he concedes, and the two melt into each other. What was originally a quick kiss turns into something deeper, and again, Shirou isn’t surprised when he feels her tongue meet his.
---Was this her idea of payback?
“Illya… you didn’t just wake me up for a kiss, did you?” Their lips break momentarily, just enough distance for him to speak as he looks into her eyes.
She frowns. “Well, way to ruin the moment.”
“You know I’m not the romantic type.” He says calmly.
“I know.” She replies, snuggling into his chest and giving a peck to his cheek. “I like that about you.”
“You’re stubborn, and clumsy, and it’s impossible to get you to understand basic hints-”
“I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me, or scolding me.” He cuts her off as she lists off qualities of his as naturally as if she were talking about her favorite things in the world.
She stops, placing a finger to her chin, in a fashion very familiar to Shirou at this point. “Hmm… Both?”
“But-” She continues,
“I like all of that about you. All of those things. And also, I know you love me, and that’s enough.”
The smile she gives him in this moment is genuine, and just like that, nothing else matters.
She’s right. He did love her, he loved every single thing about her. He had come to know this long ago during the winter which had brought them together.
The way her brow furrowed when she was frustrated, how her cheeks flushed pink in moments she was delighted. Her red eyes that he could lose himself in, that held as much light and were as captivating as brilliant rubys. Her lips, so soft to his touch, but which stop him in his tracks if need be.
Her fingers he always grasps so firmly. Fingers that wrap around his as she guides him down this road they've come to call their life. With such firmness, yet just as much gentility as those eyes he appreciates so much. Those fingers that are now reaching down to undo the button on his slacks- hold on.
“I-Illya-”
It isn’t so much said to object, and she knows this, more of a statement of surprise. This time she had caught him off guard, and he realizes she also knows this. Despite the time they’d shared together up to now, Shirou never did fully grasp the full strength of her libido.
As she pulls down his trousers, lowering the blanket with her, however, it dawns on him as his vision is cast in a pure, milky white-
---had she always been naked before they fell asleep?
Well--- he acknowledges, she always was the type to be prepared.
Though what she was preparing, Shirou was kicking himself now for not realizing sooner.
Faintly, Shirou considers for a moment whether to stop her. Or-- at least slow her down. As her quickness in removing his underwear, the last thing keeping her between him save for his sweater, sends his thoughts spinning. The way she eyes him he mentally compares to a hungry kitten, needy and ferocious, and he can’t help finding it cute.
---Though, he knows, the comparison he’d likely receive a word or two from Illya if he were to ever vocalize such thoughts.
However, Illya’s exposure of him reminds Shirou of something he had neglected in the first place. His thoughts have cleared by this point, his bearings returning to him as the moment slows down, and it finally dawns on him how much of the blood long-since absent from his head had made said underwear so tight.
Had it been this way when they started? He can’t remember. His thoughts were, and still are only focused on the girl kneeling below him, who has paused to look at him with playful eyes.
“Yes, Onii-chan?”
Shirou knows this look, she's asking him if he wants to go further. He also understands, through this moment, that she had never needed to see him down there to know what he was experiencing, for she knew him well enough to tell, even before he did, what he needed.
And he can’t help but be reassured at that fact.
“No, you’re just- fast.” He manages to catch his breath, responding finally. Though the thin fingers running along the most sensitive part of his does not make this easy.
“Of course, you’re slow.” She answers immediately, to scold him. Cold, and true. And yet, her breath on him is as warm as the crackling fireplace that had been providing them such warmth.
“Yeah…” He breathes, collecting his earlier thoughts in spite of the moment. “...I guess you didn’t set all of this up just for us to fall asleep.”
“Now you get it!” Her exclamation is immediate, and done with a smile. Then he feels her grip on him tighten ever so slightly. “Now, don’t move too much, unless you want me to break you by accident~”
Sometimes, Shirou wondered if that kind of threat held any water to it, honestly. But he’d rather not test said waters to find out.
Besides, he wasn’t exactly discontent to watching and admiring the one who he considered his lover.
Illya is swift to move and take care of his needs, as her lips fall gently around him. Months of practice have given her plenty of time to figure out what made him react the best, what sent shivers down his spine and increased his breathing, all of which she used to indicate how well she was doing.
Though, thinking back to the first time she’d done this, she had never really been bad, had she? Shirou wondered about asking about that, but by now he well understood she was the type of person who could understand things purely from theoreticals.
Knowing her, it was certain she had read many reference books on the material as well.
As such, it doesn’t take long before Shirou begins showing his enjoyment of Illya’s love, low moans and grunts filling the warm air as he struggles to keep himself sane.
But he knows this isn’t a battle he’ll be able to win for much longer.
Illya works him further, running her lips up and down his shaft, never once letting the head leave her mouth while her tongue delivers a vicious assault that sends chills down his spine.
“Guh, Illya-” He grunts.
---she always was sharp with her tongue.
He can feel himself approaching the edge, but he holds back. Her face is so beautiful, her hair cascading like water to frame her face, never netting or dirtying somehow in spite of the moment. And he can’t help feeling like it would be a shame to ruin it, even if he knows she wouldn’t mind.
Illya will not let up in this moment, however. Her lips continue to dance across his length, savoring his taste and his warmth, and Shirou knows this well. Inside her lips, as her tongue licks off beads of pre- gathering from his tip, she can feel him convulsing. The blood flowing within him like a hot iron waiting to burst.
Her eyes close, savoring his warmth. To Illya, it doesn’t matter if he dirties her, or messes the hair she so values, as continuing the pleasure she is giving him matters much more in this moment. Though she would have no hesitation when it comes to swallowing him, in fact, she would want nothing more in this moment than to do just that. But as well, she also knows that once he does, this moment will end far too quickly.
Though--- she opens her eyes to look at him, to see him. She knows even if this moment ends, there will be many more to come.
“Illya, stop-” He has plenty for her, she knows this. So it isn’t like it would be a waste to let himself go in this moment. But Shirou’s desire has become a selfish one, as he fixates on her body kneeling beneath him. Her skin is moist with sweat, her lips he wants to feel on his. And the sight of her arched back, bringing her rear more in his sight with each bob of her head threatens to break him.
Fuck it, he curses inwardly. He can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Mmm? Shi-rou-!!” She squeals, feeling his hands around her underarms, and like that, Illya finds herself falling into his lap. What was once quick, turns slow, as the two share a gentle gaze into each other.
The blankets have long since been lost, but it does not matter for the two, her body stretched across his legs. As they know the warmth of the other is all they need for this moment.
The cold no longer matters, even to her, as there is nothing but warmth.
In the soft glow of the fireplace, Shirou can take in the beautiful sight of his lover’s body sprawled atop him, somehow more radiant than ever.
Her form has developed a bit following the events that brought them together, a miracle that both worked so hard to make true above all odds. Though just last winter she had appeared so much smaller, in spite of the irony of her being older than him by little than a year. It isn’t until times like these when he holds her body in his arms, that he realizes there is undoubtedly a difference.
It isn’t much. A little more fat, a little more plump where it counts, a little more shapely, and maybe two or three inches of height. But it is nonetheless a reminder of all that they have achieved to be together in this moment.
Perhaps, in five years time her body will finally reflect that which it always was meant to, before her autonomy was taken away from her, but neither Shirou nor Illya have any complaints for their situation, and as long as they have the other, they never will.
For the man named Emiya Shirou deeply loves Illyasviel von Einzbern, for all of her flaws, and it’s that shared love and understanding that brings both of them such joy and happiness in this moment.
“Shirou…I love you.”
Illya whispers, returning the sentiment she can see through his eyes. Something shared so many times between the two, but that can never be stated enough.
“Yeah. Me too, Illya.”
It’s natural for Shirou to reciprocate, just as natural as it is for Illya to melt his heart once more with her smile in this moment.
Illya moves to sit up, resting her back against his chest, her hair gently brushing along him the entire time, and the two share another kiss while she sits upon his thigh. Now, Shirou can deny himself no more, and that is reflected through the hands that move to caress her smaller body.
Her bare skin is like porcelain to his touch, smooth and flawless. So pristine and delicate, that he feels like merely touching her would be like defiling a priceless work of art.
It is for this reason that he has hesitated, not for his own sake, but because the sight before him is simply too beautiful to touch. And at the same time, he knows, far too delicate. And yet, she has given herself to him. She has laid herself bare for him. All of her flaws, all of her worries, all of her love for him.
And Shirou knows he would be a fool to ignore that.
His inhibitions are cast aside, his thoughts grow wild.
In this moment he wants nothing more than to feel her, to taste her, to experience her. He wants nothing more than to return the pleasure that she just gave to him so graciously.
His fingers snake along her torso. Their kiss breaks, and Illya’s soft moans are free to serenade his ears like a beautiful siren. Shirou’s hand cups one of her small breasts, just enough to fill the tips of his fingers, and her moans grow louder with a squeak eking from her throat as she feels his fingers pinch her nipple.
“Sh-Shirouuuu…”
His lips surround this small bud greedily, sucking for something he knows he will not get, but the pleasure it gives him and his lover is more than enough for it to be worth it for both of them in this moment.
It is a carnal lust driving him, and one Illya is well used to at this point.
Her breathing is heavy, but her smile is gentle. With equal gentility, her hand strokes his hair, pulling him closer into her.
“Ohhh… Shirou-” She purrs. Soon his lips leave her left breast and attach themselves to her right with equal tenacity.
Her head arches back, her breathing pitches. Shirou’s hand is caressing and squeezing her other breast, still sensitive from his lips.
Just as Illya had learned much when it came to paying attention to and recognizing his most sensitive spots, Shirou too had done the same.
His other hand trails down her stomach gently, drawing a line from her ribs to her belly-button. Though he goes no further, stopping to rest his hand aside her waist as his lips leave her skin. A thin trail of saliva leaves her body and his lips still connected before breaking off to lay on her stomach.
Gazing down at her, Shirou takes in the sight once more. Illya’s chest rises slowly, moist and glistening with mixtures of saliva and sweat, her nipples pert and marked red. Her lips open and close as she catches her breath. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears look to him with longing, wanting more.
“Shirou....”
He smiles, lowering to kiss her once more. This sight is for him alone, but the moment is theirs to share. And he will be glad to enjoy it more.
Her body quivers against him, and Shirou knows what to do. The fingers beside her move further to her inner thighs, and Illya’s legs are quick to open to allow him. Her skin is already wet to his touch, and knowing the one in his arms, it had been from the very start.
In the back of his mind, Shirou can’t help feeling just a little bit guilty for making her wait this long, though he knows truthfully, it’s unlikely she has any complaints for this moment.
---Well, maybe aside from the fact they had fallen asleep before they could get to this point.
But there’s no need to rush, he knows. For them, the time doesn’t matter. And that too is reflected as not once have they stopped in this moment to check the clock that sits in the corner of this room. For they know that they have all the time in the world to appreciate each other for all that the other has.
And that isn’t something either will ever wish to take for granted.
“Mmm…”
Shirou’s fingers enter her gently. First one digit, then a second. Behind their closed lips, her wordless voice carries softly into him. His fingers explore her depths, his palm rubbing softly against her. She shivers from his touch, before resting against him in his warmth.
---And yet, something is missing as she feels the damp fabric of his shirt against her bare body.
“Shirou…” She whispers, pulling away from him just enough to. “Your shirt- I want, I want to feel you... It’s not fair if you’re the only one- who can feel me.” She manages through heavy yet soft breaths, pulling at the hem of his shirt.
“Right.” He doesn’t need any more. His hand leaves her, allowing her to pull the fabric separating them over his head where it’s tossed to the side.
His chest bare and unguarded, Illya leans into him, feeling the heat of his body and the beat of his heart. The rhythm is like a lullaby to her, lulling her into a complete sense of tranquility as her eyes close.
“Illya-?”
“Mmm,” She murmurs in response, ever softly and gently. “-just like this. Let’s stay just like this. Just for a moment.”
His arms wrap around her, he understands her completely.
“---Yeah.”
That’s all that needs to be said, as the two feel each other’s warmth entirely for the first time on this night.
It’s all the other needs in such a moment. The warmth they feel from each other, the beat of their hearts synching into a steady rhythm. It’s a constant, unchanging reminder that the other is there, and that they will always be there.
For the two, this is everything they could have ever wanted.
“Okay.” Just as she had cast it, Illya is the one to break the silence of this moment. Her eyes look to him with all the love that she holds. All the love she carries for the one she can blissfully say she loves.
“---I’m ready, Onii-chan.” A word that holds so much meaning to the both of them.
Just last year it was used to mock and belittle him, Shirou knows this. But now it holds so much love and appreciation. To her, he is the family she never had, regardless of there being no blood between them. To him, and to them, the meaning of family as it has come to mean is so, so much more than anyone but the two could ever comprehend or understand fully.
It is through all that they’ve been through since the day they met that they can be here in this moment. Through the struggles they’d bore and the tears they’d shared, it is all that has come together for them to be here with each other.
To them, the world doesn’t matter. As all that they will ever need, ever want, is in the other within arms’ reach, and the warmth they hold.
His hardness twitches beneath her, having been neglected in the two’s moment together. The entire time she had felt him pressing against her, left to sit between her cheeks, and she knows that he needs release.
---and she wants nothing more than to give him such.
A wordless nod of understanding from Shirou, as nothing needs to be said. Gently he guides himself to her as she raises herself just enough for him to clear her. Shirou can’t help letting out a breath of relief, as her weight frees him.
Illya breathes slowly, his tip touching her entrance, and he holds her firmly as she lowers herself onto him. Her arms hold his shoulders for support, and her legs rest beside his on both sides.
The size is always a surprise for her, even if they have done this countless times before. She is still small, even after their miracle, and her opening is tight, causing Shirou’s teeth to grit. Yet, as if reacting to him, and him alone, her insides pull him further within her. And just like that, Shirou and her feel nothing but warmth as their bodies meet completely.
Her breathing is heavy, but she does not pause, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss as she begins to move on him. The electricity shared between them is instant, and Shirou’s mind turns to static, as all but her disappears in his conscious vision.
“Illya.. Illya---” Shirou’s hips thrust himself into her slowly, deeper into her core, and as well, Illya is balancing herself to meet him. The tender heat, the feeling of their bodies becoming one. Her juices slick him, making their movements smooth and ever so natural. They fit together perfectly, and to the two in this moment, this is an undeniable certainty.
Illya’s moans whisper gently in his ear, mixing with his harsh breaths. To her, it is a beautiful orchestra, just as the feel of their bodies against each other is a dance of absolute bliss.
“Sh-Shirou…” She whispers the name of her lover, of the one she shares the moment with, and their lips meet once more.
Their bodies are wet with sweat, the result of the heat of one-another. The two hold each other ever firmly, as if the other could slip away any moment. But Shirou and Illya both know that, for them, this moment could very well be forever.
The past is behind them, their present and future is all there is and all there ever will be for the two. And feeling this moment - a moment of tenderness, passion, and love - they know whatever the future holds, they will be able to brave together.
It is natural thus that moments like these, when they are connected completely, is when they feel most at ease. As both feel the warmth of the other, the warmth of something so important to the both of them.
Because this warmth is the warmth of blood flowing. It is the truest, and the most undeniable warmth that one can ever experience, and that only another can truly appreciate and value.
It is the warmth of life. And for them, it gives nothing but tranquility and gratitude that they can continue to feel such warmth through each other in this moment. In such a warmth, it is natural for the rest of the world to disappear. For the time to be forgotten, and for the cold just outside their walls to cease to matter.
As for the two, this warmth is all that will ever be.
“Shirou… Faster-” She begs him in this moment, and he obliges. His pace quickens, and he feels her growing ever so tighter around him as a result.
“Mmm- mmm!” Her lips bite down, her eyes shutting as he collides with her walls, her deeper parts, sending further shivers and trembles all throughout her.
Shirou can feel everything through her, just as she can feel everything through him. Her arms continue to be firm around his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. Every breath he can feel along him, through her chest, through her throat. Every vibration, every movement within her that they share.
“Agh-! Illya-” He groans her name once more, the only thing in his mind he can muster through the haze and static.
“Shirou---” She does the same, as all that matters for her is him and him alone.
She pulls herself back, she wants to see him in this moment. His face is sweaty and flushed, and Illya knows she looks the same.
Illya smiles - it’s so natural for them - and her lips meet his once more. Their tongues overlap, their mouths seal completely. Her hand rests on his chest gently. The wordless breaths they share are uniting them further, coursing through the other’s body in perfect harmony.
It’s like this that they stay for the moment, taking in each other for all that the other has. The rhythm of movements shared between the two is something neither needs to even think about anymore, as they lose themselves to one another, so tender and passionately in the love that they share.
And thus, the moment goes on. For one, then two, then three, then many until minutes pass. The two do not need to break, as their breathing becomes one, just as the rest of them has. Finally, Shirou feels her tighten further around him. He breaks their kiss, fearful of biting down on her tongue, and he grits his teeth once more.
“I-Illya are you-” he doesn’t finish, as their lips separating lets her voice escape.
“Haa- mmm-!” She breathes deeply. Her arms return to holding him tightly, now around his torso. Her body presses further against his, if such a thing is even possible, as her spine jolts into straightening.
Her lips are wet, her eyes as well. And though the rest of his vision is hazy, he can still see her perfectly, and he can’t help thinking that she is absolutely beautiful.
---And instinctually, his pace quickens once more.
“Shi---” She begins to call out his name once more.
He feels her in this moment, everything going through her, and he wants to feel her more. He knows what’s happening, through every movement, every pulse, every constriction of her muscles as she buckles down on him and lets loose her cry into his ears.
“Aaaaaaa---!” She rises, then just as quickly she falls as Shirou’s movements haven’t let up. Her head rests against his chest once more, she tries to steady her breathing, to catch herself.
“Shi-Shirou---” Her voice trails off, basking in the warmth of both him and this moment. He still moves inside her, harsh and fast, and she can’t help but think how cruel he is to keep going.
---yet, she also knows this isn’t selfishness on his part, nor is it purely lust making him inconsiderate of her feelings. It’s because he knows she can handle this, as they’ve been here many times before. As well, he knows the pleasure it brings her. The sense of his movements in her high as he touches parts somehow even deeper than before, allowed to go even further and faster with the juices that he has caused her to spill ruther, and the angle at which she sits atop him.
He knows that she can steady her breathing, he knows he will not hurt her. All of their experience has taught him this.
And it’s this understanding that gives Illya so much assurance of his love.
---But also, he knows he’s approaching his peak as well.
“Illya… agh, I’m almost there---”
“I know- ha- I can feel it… I can feel you, Shirou-” He’s becoming rougher, as his thoughts and senses have all become focused on his release, and giving her the warmth it brings. His moans are guttural, his movements are like a beast as he loses all reason, only focusing on the warmth of the one wrapped around him.
Illya’s breathing intensifies, matching his strokes. He does not stop, he cannot stop. The warmth is too much, his warmth, her warmth. They continue to be together as one, their chests rubbing against one-another. The sweat that was like beads have come to wet their entire bodies through the heat they share, and even more, they feel the heat rising.
“Ahh- haaa- Shirouuuuu---!” It’s too much, Illya fears, but she knows it isn’t. She, who hates the cold, but loves the warmth. ---even this though, if this goes any longer she might-
“Illya-” He breaths, a heavy grunt. “-this is it, I’m going to...”
“---Mmm!” She bites down, it’s all she can to stop herself from passing out in that very moment.
---And in this moment, his arms wrapped firmly around her and holding her close, she feels him unleash into her as he stiffens.
Like that, the moment has ended, and all that can be heard are their gentle breaths.
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It’s like this as the minutes pass. The silence is shared between the two, neither Illya nor Shirou feeling a need to say a word. Shirou’s arms have never left her, his hands caressing her back softly. While Illya’s head has fallen back to rest on Shirou's shoulder, breathing softly into the nape of his neck.
Somehow, her breath is even warmer to his skin.
“Shirou…” Once more, she breaks the silence again with his name. “...you idiot. You scared me there for a second.” It’s a lie, as she knows even if the moment had gotten to be too much, he would have caught her. ---But still, he deserves the teasing.
“Right, sorry…” He laughs sheepishly, though even if in their position he cannot see her face, he knows her better than to fall for such a trick. Smiling to himself, he throws her his own counter. “Then what can I do to make it up to you, my Mistress?”
Her cheeks turn pink immediately, and she frowns. His blow is a low one, a relic of their past, but hers' had also been low, she knows this. His counter is only fair, in spite of the frustration admitting that brings her.
“Fine, you win, I know when I’ve lost.” Illya breathes in resignation. The battle has been lost. Though, when she thinks of the warmth still inside her, flowing within her stomach, and down her thighs, her eyes close halfway. She knows, truthfully, she was the one who had reaped their just rewards.
She hears Shirou laugh softly again, and even in her frustration, it’s comforting.
“You’re the one that makes this a battle, you know.” His words are honest, followed by a pause. “...but somehow, hearing you say that makes me feel like I was the one who lost, here.”
“That’s because you’re silly like that.” Illya giggles, and finally pulls away from him to look up at his face.
“Silly, huh…”
“Mmmhm.” She murmurs. “But like I said, I like that about you.” Another kiss, this time brief on his lips.
“I know, Illya, I know.” She doesn’t need to reassure him, as Shirou knows it isn’t a bad thing. It never is with her.
Her head rests against his chest once more. Her hair is soft against him, and her smell is sweet, even mixed with his own. And most importantly, her body is warm.
It’s this warmth he feels, so already reassuring against him, that lulls Shirou into such peace. It’s natural for his eyes to close in such a moment then, as this is just what had happened earlier when they’d first settled together in this chair. He can hear her voice speaking, but the words he can’t make out only add to the warmth of this moment.
“---irou, looks like it’s already morning. Should we make breakfast?”
His last thought is faint, and just as faintly he can feel her shifting to get up. Sleep has already begun to take hold though, and before he drifts off, his only thought is that they’ll have to toss this chair after they get up.
It can wait, though.
“---throw out this chair. We can just replace it.” It’s as if she reads his thoughts, further proof of how in sync they’ve come to be. Illya's small body makes strides across the room, opening one of the cabinets just off-hand where they’ve come to store towels. She’s already picked up one of the blankets to surround herself with.
“Hey, Shirou---?” She pauses in her concentration, turning around on her heels.
The sight she sees of him gently asleep in the armchair they’d shared distracts her at this moment, and smiling, Illya decides the morning can wait. She returns to sit with him, wrapping the blanket around him and pulling his body gently back into their warmth, while her head returns to rest upon him.
The gentle sunlight peaking into their window, cascading the scene in the softest of light does not disturb the two in their rest. For them, it adds further to this moment.
As for this, the warmth really is all that matters.
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