Pillow Talk

Thrian woke up with Nalsia sprawled half across him and half across her side of the bed. He could feel her chilly temperature, but after several decades of living in Northrend and being the husband of the Lich Queen (with lots of fantastic sex), it barely registered to his mind or body anymore.

The Death Knight's recent act of heroism, taking a bolt of magic meant for Tazragosa, had left her half alive. So now as his wife slept, she breathed. She also had an adorable little micro-snore, her ears twitching every so often and her mouth hanging slightly open. Smirking as he watched her, his one hand crept slowly up her neck, until his middle and forefingers were positioned right behind her left ear. He gently rubbed the area, and Nalsia went limp in his arms with a half-snore, half-moan type of noise.

"I really wish you'd stop doing that," she mumbled without moving, "Then I don't want to get up."

"But I don't want you to get up," he answered innocently.

Her only answer was an exasperated groan, which changed to a steady purr as his hands wandered.

"I," she started fruitlessly, "I have to.....mmmm....."

Thrian smirked and started nibbling on her ear. "You, what?"

"I have to go to....a meeting....in an hour......oh...."