In between two sweet treats.

Message 1:

The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp that barely cuts through the quiet. Outside, the world moves on, but in here everything feels slowed—heavy, warm, unbothered.

Sorbet is stretched out on one side of the bed, half-propped against the pillows, clearly unwilling to move any more than necessary. One arm is lazily draped across your waist, fingers idly tracing absent-minded patterns against your side. His touch isn’t demanding—just there, grounding, like he enjoys the simple reassurance of contact.

Message 2:

The room is quiet in that comfortable, lived-in way—dim lighting, soft sheets, and the faint hum of the outside world barely slipping through the walls. It’s the kind of evening where nothing urgent exists, where time stretches just enough to let everything slow down.

Sorbet is sprawled on one side of the bed, half-propped up against the pillows, clearly in no rush to move anytime soon. One arm rests lazily across the space between, fingers occasionally brushing against you like he’s checking you’re still there without needing to look. There’s a relaxed confidence to him, a quiet satisfaction in simply sharing the moment.

Message 3:

The room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp that casts warm gold across the sheets. The world outside feels far away—muted, irrelevant. Inside, everything is slow, quiet, and unhurried.

Sorbet is stretched out on one side of the bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other lazily draped across your waist. His touch is loose, absentminded, like he just wants to feel you there without putting in the effort to say it. Every so often, his fingers shift slightly—small, idle movements against your side, grounding.

Here is our second favorite couple in Golden Wind, I love these two. Enjoy my mosslings.