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Unable to focus, Ravenna slams her laptop shut. Her chest rises and falls with frustration, her mind too tangled to even pretend to work.

Morpheus glances up from his book, his expression unreadable, a calm in the face of her storm. "Something wrong, my love?"

"Just... stress." She presses her fingers against her shoulders, trying to massage away the knots of tension. But the ache only seems to deepen, spreading down her back like a slow poison.

Without a word, Dream sets his book aside and moves to sit behind her on the bed. His hands find her shoulders, and he begins to knead the tight muscles with firm, slow circles of his thumbs. The tension in her body melts away almost instantly, and she sighs, leaning back into his touch, surrendering to the comfort of his hands.

"You should do this more often," she murmurs, eyes fluttering closed.

A soft chuckle escapes him, and he presses a kiss to her shoulder. "Feeling better?"

She hums, the sound low and content. "Much better."

His hands don't stop their gentle work. "Anything for you." He notices her fingers nervously twisting together, the subtle tremor of unease that has lingered since she shut her laptop. "Something is still bothering you, isn't it?"

She hesitates, then takes a breath, as if summoning the courage to speak. "Can you paint me again?" She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear and turns to meet his gaze. "I'll pay you. Name your price."

He raises an eyebrow, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Mortal currency holds no value in my realm."

"Then I'll find something else... something you might want," she teases, a playful light returning to her eyes.

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Very well, my love. Your wish is my command."

Minutes later, they're arranging his painting equipment. Ravenna moves with a certain lightness, anticipation making her pulse quicken. She stands before the couch, ready for him to capture her essence on the canvas.

"When you're ready," he says, adjusting the canvas stand, his voice soft, almost reverent.

To his surprise, she undoes her robe, letting the fabric slip off her shoulders, pooling around her feet. She is completely exposed, her skin glowing in the soft light filtering through the open window. A shiver runs through her, though whether it's from the cool breeze or the weight of his gaze, she cannot tell.

His steel-blue eyes darken to molten silver, tracing every curve, every line, every shadow of her body. Her hair spills in soft waves around her shoulders, her lips slightly parted, her breath uneven. She is a vision, even more captivating than he remembers. His hands tighten around the brush, his desire to touch her, to lose himself in her, barely restrained.

"Never thought I'd see you blushing at the sight of me naked," she teases, her voice bold, but there's a tremor beneath the words.

His smile is both a warning and a promise. "Careful, love. Unless you wish me to mar your likeness with imperfections."

She grins, mischief sparking in her eyes. "You wouldn't dare. You're far too much of a perfectionist."

"We shall see about that." He tries to keep his tone light, but his focus is already drifting, lost in the lines and curves of her form. "Perhaps a third nipple... a hairy wart..."

"Stop!" Ravenna laughs, throwing a pillow at him, which he easily dodges. "At least make them somewhere inconspicuous."

"All right. Your belly button, then." He grins when she groans in mock annoyance, her laughter a melody in the air.

She watches him, the way his fingers move over the canvas, sure and steady, each stroke filled with purpose. The silence between them is easy, intimate, broken only by the sound of his brush on canvas and their soft breaths.

"What about your past lovers?" she asks suddenly, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Did you have many?"

Morpheus's smile turns wolfish, teasing. "You wish to know of my past, do you?"

She rolls her eyes, trying to sound casual. "Just making sure you're not carrying any... surprises."

His chuckle is low, amused. "Killalla of the Glow. A youthful infatuation, born of the idea of love rather than love itself." He shades in her hair, capturing the soft curls, the way they frame her face. "Then there was Nada, a queen from long ago... a mortal, like you. She rejected me, knowing I was one of the Endless. I was... not kind in my response."

Ravenna's brows knit together. "Not kind? How?"

"I imprisoned her in Hell," he admits, his tone almost regretful. "For ten thousand years."

She pulls herself up, eyes wide with disbelief. "For rejecting you? That's... cruel. Would you do that to me?"

He pauses, his brush hovering in mid-air. Then, he shakes his head. "No. Never."

Ravenna's gaze softens, though her voice is firm. "She doesn't deserve that, Morpheus. Maybe it's time you let her go."

A shadow crosses his face, but he nods, almost imperceptibly. "Perhaps."

He continues, his voice quieter. "Calliope, the muse of poetry, was my wife once. We had a son. Orpheus."

Her voice is soft with empathy. "Had?"

He nods. "He is gone. Dead."

Guilt flickers in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He waves it away gently. "It is the past. And you, my love, are my present."

Ravenna wraps his jacket around her shoulders, pulling it close, relishing in the scent of him. The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the rhythmic strokes of his brush and the soft beating of her heart.

"Morpheus," she whispers, voice filled with something raw, something needful.

"Yes?"

"Come here."

He arches a brow, teasing. "Ordering me around now, are you?"

She grins, and he sets the brush down with a mock sigh, crossing the room to her. She squeals when he sweeps her into his arms and sets her on his lap, their fingers intertwining.

He kisses each finger, one by one, his touch light, reverent. Her pulse quickens, her breath coming in soft gasps. "Now that I'm here... how can I serve you, my queen?"

Her lips curve into a wicked smile. "Your reward. Name it."

His voice drops, rough with desire. "I want to taste you." He presses a whispering kiss to her cheek. "Only if you wish it."

She doesn't hesitate, nodding fervently. "Please."

His gaze darkens, and he moves between her thighs, spreading them with a gentle but insistent touch. He dips his head, leaving a trail of kisses down her inner thighs, until he reaches her center, his mouth hot and demanding.

He devours her, each touch of his tongue sending jolts of electricity through her veins. She writhes, her body arching toward him, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling, needing, desperate.

She's lost in a whirl of sensation - his lips, his tongue, his fingers, everything blurring together into one molten heat that builds and builds until it shatters her, leaving her gasping, trembling, utterly undone.

Morpheus catches her, pulling her into his arms as they collapse together onto the couch. They are both breathless, hearts pounding in sync, bodies still humming with the echoes of pleasure.

"We should do that more often," she whispers, her voice sleepy, her head resting on his chest.

He smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. "That... and more," he promises.

Their peace is shattered by a sudden, shrill ringing. Ravenna jolts awake, fumbling for her phone, her voice sharp and worried. "Cedric, if this is a prank, I swear-"

"It's Thea. She's had an accident-" Cedric's voice is strained, almost breaking. "You need to come. Now."

Ravenna's heart stutters, her face paling. "What?!" Tears spring to her eyes, panic setting in, turning her voice ragged.

Dream watches her, his expression tightening with concern. "We have to go," she stammers, her voice breaking. "My mum... I need to... I can't-"

He's beside her in an instant, his hands steady on her shoulders. "Ravenna, look at me," he commands softly, but firmly. "Thea will be all right. Breathe. We will go. Just.. breathe.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, but his calm, his presence grounds her, helps her find her footing. She nods, shakily, tears streaking her face.

"Good,"' he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Now, get ready. I'm right here with you."

And with that, he pulls her close, cradling her in his arms, anchoring her to him as the storm inside her slowly begins to quiet.