> Valkyrie > by The Bricklayer > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Stormy Sunday > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another start to the day, dawn breaking over Ponyville. The rooster crowed, and the first vestiges of sunlight painted the valleys. In a small little townhouse nestled within the growing town, amongst the crawling sprawl of suburbia, rested a couple. Slowly but surely, they awoke and readied to start the day. Flame crackled as a frying pan rested over the stove, steam hissing as the contents sizzled inside. In the kitchen was a stallion, barely dressed with a bathrobe tied around his waist with bags under his eyes. A bubbling pot of coffee had been set off to the side, and a radio played somewhere nearby, it was playing songs way too cheery for this early in the morning, The stallion in the studio was talking of high temperatures in a voice that was perhaps way too enthusiastic for anyone’s liking. “...you don’t think we can just sleep in a bit longer, can we?” the stallion asked as he felt a pair of well-muscled arms encircle his waist, pulling him close. He felt his wife’s heartbeat, hearing the soft thump-thump-thump inside her chest. Subconsciously, he snuggled closer into her chest.  “...I wish, dear,” said the mare, her hooves clopping against the floor in what had to have been slight agitation. “But, well, my boss would kill me if I didn’t call in today. And you’ve got your job as well.” “Right…” the stallion said with a small sigh, shaking the pan in front of him and flipping the flapjacks inside over to the other side. He had to slap his wife’s hands away, muttering: “Greedy thing. You’ll get them when you get them.” His wife’s tummy rumbled, even as the stallion went for his cup of coffee. Stirring it, he met her halfway in a kiss. She lifted him up slightly, the stallion being shorter than his wife by a noticeable margin. “...Hmm, that can’t help change your mind?” the mare asked as she pulled away, letting him down onto the tiled floor.  “Nope, not even that,” said the stallion, one Nightingale Sun. “I swear, you’re about as bad as my brother and his obsession with Weathered’s famous Piroshkis.” “I envy your brother,” said his wife with a low chuckle. “Works on a farm, only has to worry about harvesting and the chickens going wild.” “Obviously you’ve never been to a farm then,” said Nightingale with a  little snort. “Maybe we should drop you off at Applejack’s and put you to work then, eh?” “Mhmm, wouldn’t want to steal her thunder,” the former Tempest Shadow mused before kissing Nightingale's forehead. Walking off, she sauntered back to the bedroom, with a deliberate sway in her step. “I got to go get dressed, I’ll assume you’ll be doing the usual then?” “Yeah, I’ll leave you a few pancakes spell-heated in a to-go bag and a thermos on the sideboard,” Nightingale nodded before his gaze followed her back to the bedroom, one eye firmly on her flanks even as he continued making breakfast. He let out a small breathy: “...damn.” ---------- Okay, so a bit of backstory really. Nightingale had met his future wife under… interesting circumstances. A few odd years back, she’d been suffering a rather deliberating heat and had been more or less flagging her tail all over town. Obviously, no pony was keen to just jump in bed with a former terrorist. She was cute, beautiful even in her own Amazonian way, but nopony trusted her not to slash their throats in their sleep. Or something like that. Nightingale had really gone after her on a dare from his friends. Okay, so not his proudest moment. He’d been a bit of an asshole at the time.  But Tempest had reassured him she was on the potion, and Nightingale suspected she knew he’d only gone after her on a dare. The withering look she was giving him kinda clued him in on that. But, well, all the same, they’d fallen into bed together and despite all odds, Nightingale stayed with her. ...well, the nervous breakdown on how he’d possibly overpowered the Barren Fields potion probably hadn’t helped. In what had been back then a rare show of personal responsibility for himself, he’d elected to take care of any potential kids he was now father to.  “But why?” Tempest asked before confirming his suspicions. “You were only here just because your punk friends dared you.” “I have my… reasons,” Nightingale replied with more than a hint of hesitation. He was really not ready to dredge up any old memories at that moment, thank you very much. He was currently half-covered by the sheets, Tempest in an even more exposed state. The sheets fell away to expose her naked breasts and holy shit those. Were. Abs. Not that he’d tell anyone, but the stallion had a bit of a fetish for muscled women. Might have been half of the reason he’d been so readily accepting of the dare. “Is that all?” Tempest said tracing a hand along his face, the deep black fur soft to the touch. His sun-kissed hair was a scraggly mess. Tempest’s magenta mane had been pulled out of it’s usual mohawk by their frenzied sex, and the air simply smelled of it. She inched herself closer to him, murmuring under her breath: “...well, aren’t you a stallion of mystery.” Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that, said Nightingale to himself. Let’s go with that and not explore any potential messes of emotion that I’m… oh, okay. This is really close now. You trying to get me up for round four… or five? Think I’m still sore from the last couple of rounds! He let out a low groan as Tempest’s hand reached under the sheets, stroking his cock. Kissing the nape of his neck, she murmured kindly: “...one last time, just let me take the lead this time okay?” Obviously, her partner was in no position to argue. Soon, those groans turned to gasps, Tempest holding him in her arms as she rolled her hips on his cock. And the denouement began. ---------- That was then, this was now. Was a marriage really needed, Tempest had asked him at one point. All it did was put their relationship on paper. Everyone knew they were knocking boots, as she went on to explain. Nightingale wanted to be married, he wanted to be. Envy probably played a part in it, largely due to him being the youngest of his siblings, and every year he was reminded of him being the last to marry, or hell even get a date. “So you just want something to finally rub in your brothers’ faces,” Tempest replied. “To shut them up?” “Well, if the horseshoe fits…”  Okay, so maybe he was being a bit of an ass. His brothers were both perfectly fine stallions. It’s just, well, they didn’t exactly lead interesting lives. One lived on a farm and the other taught history. And yet somehow, both had managed to fall in love before he ever did. Maybe being the youngest had always left him with an inferiority complex.  “...lost in thought again?” said one of his only friends over coffee. “Is it Tempest? Oh, can’t say I blame you, really. Like, whoof!” Okay, friend was stretching it, really. Co-worker, actually. Least in his mind at the moment. “Get your own wife to oogle over,” Nightingale said with an annoyed little nicker. The air crackled with magic, his horn sparking in warning.  “Relax, I’m not dumb enough to poach on my best friend’s girl,” said his friend. High Tide read his nametag, the stallion’s sea blue coat fitting him like a glove. “Brah, there’s a million things in the world I would do, but my friend’s wife isn’t one of them.” “Right, forgot how much of a man-whore you were,” Nightingale said in a sarcastic drawl. Rolling his eyes, he replied: “Like, I really had.” “I call it free love!” High Tide said. “I mean, nobody’s complained so far. But I have to ask, and this is a serious question, you sure you’re the right stallion for her? Apologies if I sound like a jerk-” “...you kinda are,” Nightingale replied with an angry little nicker, sorting through bookshelves and reorganizing his wares. “So if there’s a point, you mind getting on with it?” “It’s just… well, Tempest is well Tempest. She’s a babe, I think we’re all in agreement on that, right?” “And she’s smarter than those shameless whorses who throw themselves at you,” Nightingale drawled. “I’m just saying, if you thought with both of your heads for once in your life…” “Hey, I feel letting everyone get a taste of me is-” “Yeah, we get it. You’re a walking innuendo, can we get back on track?” Nightingale asked. Not for the first time, he had to suppress a sigh. Pansexual or not, his friend could be hideously annoying when he really tried.  “...yeah, sure. But, ah, I don’t know how to put this right so I’ll come out with it as it is. You’re not exactly who’d I’d imagine Tempest’s type would be, body wise! She’s a royal guard for Princess Twilight and you’re a bookshop owner.” “Mares do look for personality, you know,” Nightingale said. “That may have slipped your mind, but it is a thing they go after.” “Just sayin’,” High Tide said. “You’re practically skin and bones.” “So are you!” Nightingale retorted gesturing to his friend’s fine tuned form. “Excuse me, this is a swimmer’s body. We’re meant to be long and lean, we’re like cats!” said High Tide in reply with a little annoyed nicker. “Haven’t seen anyone complain so far.” “You’re a one track mind,” sighed Nightingale. “Just go get ready to welcome the customers for the day, eh?” “Oh, I can certainly do that!” “And that doesn’t mean start flirting with them on the down low!”  Nightingale sighed to himself. Today was going to be one of those days, he could tell already. Still, what if High Tide was right? What if he did need to change himself to make himself more… attractive to Tempest? He wasn’t exactly winning any contests as he was now, was he? He didn’t even have that swimmer’s build like his best friend did.  Why did the mares always gravitate to the swimmer, anyways? High Tide was a walking stereotype! Maybe it was the name, really… Nightingale was supposed to sound romantic. But it also sounded so different from his brothers’ names. Of course, at first that was entirely the point. Plus, Black Sun sounded more like a rebellious angry teenager rather than anyone wanting to be taken seriously. Of course, when his brothers had more ‘rugged’ names like Flashfire and Sun Spot… well, maybe it was about time to start thinking of changing it back? Ugh, what was he thinking? Different was good, he liked different. Mares liked different. ...Clearly he had to have been doing something right, given he was married to the most beautiful mare alive. Fleur De Lis nothing, Tempest was the way he rolled. Fleur looked way too thin anyways, like Tempest could break her in two. ...Okay, yeah that was a bit of a turn on thinking of his wife in a fight with another girl. Celestia, he was as bad as High Tide today… He liked a good kickass mare, so what? He felt… safe around Tempest, really. Being held in her arms was heaven, knowing she’d never let him go. Maybe there was something to be said about that, really, knowing she could easily break him in two -forget Fleur!- and yet she chose not to. By the goddesses, he loved his wife. Just thinking of her right now… Oh, great, now he needed to rub one off. Bad boy! Yeah, that’d be an interesting scenario now wouldn’t it? A happy, prospective customer walking and seeing the bulge in his pants. ...That probably wouldn’t score a sale now would it? Yep, today was definitely going to be one of those days. Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts. Think of Granny Smith in her… yep, okay hard-on quelled. On with the day! ---------- For the most part, Nightingale’s day really wasn’t all that interesting. But in the back of his mind, that nasty, traitorous little thought still lingered. Nightingale tried not to think too much of it. It wasn’t worth thinking about, not really. He was in a happy relationship and he wouldn’t change anything about it. ...then again, if that was the case why was he wandering to the gym directly after work? Damnit. Contrary to popular belief, not all of his friends were horny little bastards. Some were actually fairly well read. Take Neutron Nova, who worked as a pediatrician down at the hospital, for example.  “...I’m telling you, High Tides is just messing with you, man,” the stallion said, checking his watch even as he racked up the sweats on a treadmill. Already, his tank top was starting to cling to his body. “That’s what he does. He’s a troll. His mind was born in the gutter and it’ll stay in the gutter.” His reassurances went ignored, and throughout the afternoon, this continued with Nightingale moving to the punching bags. His fists thundered against the fabric, chains rattling with each cross cut. “...and what do I know?” Neutron sighed, the wine red stallion gently slamming his head against another punching bag. “...it’s not like I’m the only one who passed college with high marks or something.” He made a noise, which went ignored. But of course nobody paid attention to the valedictorian here. “So, you’re discouraging me from getting some actual muscle?” Nightingale said. Neutron sighed. “...no, I’m not saying that. Hell, I’m happy for you. But High Tides is an idiot, and he’s always thinking with his other head. N-Not the one on his shoulders, but… yeah, the other thing. He hasn’t been in a serious relationship in his entire life, don’t even know if he has the constitution for such a thing!” Neutron Nova scoffed. “You’re a licensed medical professional, you can say the p-word. Pretty sure you’ve seen a few of them,” sighed Nightingale. “Forgive me for being delicate,” Neutron said in reply with a small flush, not that you could really see it against his coat. “But you get my point. The buck doesn’t know a single thing about caring for someone.” Right, Nightingale remembered Neutron was actually in a serious relationship. He’d married his hen friend right out of college. Lucky hen, that Skye. “...I’m an idiot,” Nightingale sighed, the full scope of his stupid finally hitting him as he slid up against a wall, sweat causing his shirt to stick to his fur coat. “...Like, seriously, I am. You can go on out and say it.” “Well, I certainly wouldn’t say today was one where you exercised your greatest judgement,” Neutron replied with a little impish smile. Nightingale glared at him, and Neutron snorted. “...you’re really not that threatening, you know. You’re like a little puppy dog.” Nightingale snorted in reply. “At least a chihuahua, I hope!” “Yorkie, actually,” Neutron chuckled before both heard the sound of hoofsteps. Both looked up to see Tempest herself, who helped her husband up off the floor mat. He could see the look in her eyes: yep, that was definitely disappointment.  Some husband he was. “The pancakes were good, a little bit fattening though. Going to have to make sure I don’t lose my figure,” Tempest teased before poking him in the chest. “I’m going to have to have a word with the head chef!” “Must be the eggs I used,” Nightingale teased back, gently pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll be sure to have a word with my suppliers.” “You do that…” Tempest replied, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. Nightingale felt relaxed, she didn’t hate him. Not for doubting himself. She probably already knew he doubted himself with some things. And he was rambling again wasn’t he? “You don’t have to improve yourself for me, you do know that right?” Tempest remarked, holding him close.  Ah, yes, there it was.  “How’d you know?”  “It wasn’t that hard to guess,” Tempest continued as she began running a hand through his mane. “This is the first time you’ve actually hit the gym since I’ve known you. You’ve never cared before, so why should you now… unless…” During this time, Neutron had silently excused himself, knowing this was a thing between husband and wife. “...am I that obvious?” Nightingale asked. “More like High Tides is an asshole, and a very loud one at that! Remind me, why do you associate with him again?” Tempest asked.  “Well, he’s my coworker so…” Nightingale stuttered out excuses, but obviously Tempest was having none of this. “Fire him then!” she shouted with an annoyed look. “It’s not like he has a monopoly on being your co-worker, pretty sure there’s ponies lining up right around the block waiting to get hired!” He would definitely consider it. Celestia only knew High Tides was being squandered at that job anyways, everyone knew he wanted to go to Haywaii and become some big shot surfer. “I’ll get the money together, shove him off on a train to the islands,” Nightingale murmured to himself in thought. “Let someone else deal with him. Maybe he’ll get that smack to the head. By hand or via his own expensive board.” “That’s the spirit,” Tempest said, punching the air in pride, and hooo boy Nightingale very obviously followed the trim of her muscles as they moved in time with her body. He fought back a swallow as Tempest smirked at this, wow he was obvious. “Now, pretty sure there’s enough muscle on me for the both of us, so you don’t need to go off right away and build yourself up. In the future, well, we’ll see. But right now…?” she trailed off licking her lips. “You’ve had a rough day, right?” Nightingale’s only answer was a little nod and a squeak as his wife wrapped her arms around him.  “I think I can fix that,” Tempest smiled, already undoing her camouflage jeans before they were gone in a crack of blue magical energy. ---------- Tempest gently shoved her husband into the soft sheets, before pressing her lips to his. Clambering on top of him, she kissed him again, pressing her body against him. Nightingale’s hands gently moved up, grasping and grabbing at his clothes as the two continued to kiss, finally coming up for air. “Day’s already improving, isn’t it?” Tempest said as she held him close, and once again Nightingale felt the soft thump-thump-thump of her heartbeat.  “Maybe a bit,” Nightingale agreed before Tempest kissed him yet again. “Okay, more than a bit.” “We’ll work on that self confidence of yours, maybe start up a workshop on it,” Tempest said as she pulled away, before kissing him again. Her tongue darted into his mouth, and the air became filled with the sound of wet, sloppy kissing as Tempest rolled onto her back, still kissing her husband. Running her hands through his mane, she pulled away once more. “...we’ll put a pin in that for now.” The kissing started up again even sloppier than before as sheets were flung off the bed with wild abandon, Tempest moaning and gasping. She rolled onto her side, before once again shoving her tongue into her husband’s mouth. “Long day?” he asked. “Drill sergeant's the worst,” Tempest with a fond little smile. “Some of these grunts don’t know the meaning of following orders…” “Hopefully I’m far better behaved,” Nightingale said, undoing the belt buckle on her jeans before finally tossing them aside. Tempest gently pressed her forehead to his own again. “Hmm, we’ll see about that,” she said before capturing his lips in a quick kiss and then another and then another as she shoved him onto his back. Scars littered her arms and chest, trophies from a lifetime of battle. Most stallions would have been disgusted at the sight, her battered body about to be laid bare for eyes to see. Not Nightingale. It just showed how strong she was, and dear Celestia was that a turn on. His kisses became more fevered, running his hands through her mane. Tempest let out a soft moan before she pressed her body to his, grinding her hips against his own. Off came the shirt, and Tempest began running her hands all over her husband’s body as her lips fought for purchase.  After a lifetime of neglect, she made up for it in other ways when the time was right. Letting out another gasp, and resembling a horny teenager as she battled for dominance, Tempest continued her kisses. Nightingale meanwhile began kissing her arms. His lips found rest on his wife’s powerful muscles, Tempest looking down at him due to her taller stature. She watched as her husband dove into her, with shameless and wild abandon, kissing and nuzzling her muscles, practically worshiping them. “...well, you said it yourself,” Nightingale said, looking up to meet her eyes. “You’ve got more than enough muscle to go around, right?” He went back to kissing, Tempest rolling him over again so now she was on her back. Now, her husband had more room to maneuver, and he took the hint. Once again, he dove into her muscles, kissing them with no sense of shame. “That’s a good boy…” she whispered, moving her tank top upwards to expose her well-cut six pack. She smirked. “High Tides only wishes he looked this cut!” Nightingale went back to kissing, after fighting that particular image from his brain. He let out a little groan as he kissed her abs breathlessly, Tempest closing her eyes and letting out a little gasp of pleasure. That only encouraged him, before he moved up and caught her lips again. She threw her arms around him, and began running her fingers through his golden locks letting out soft little breathless moans.  “So…” Tempest said as they took a breather from their activities. “Guessing you like my muscles?” Nightingale had to laugh at the obviousness behind that statement, before replying with a: “...well, they are your best feature. Now, I’m not one of those types who love their mares to look like cartoonishly over-exaggerated bodybuilders, but…” “You can appreciate what you see?” Tempest smiled. “Good boy. Good answer. Most stallions I know would have turned their noses up at worship like that. They’re really rather ashamed of themselves, ashamed to admit their secret wants.” “I hope you haven’t been seeing other guys on the side!” Nightingale said holding a hand to his chest in mock shock. “Maybe I have been, you should punish me!” Tempest said. “Because I’ve been a bad girl…” “Mhmm, clearly!” Nightingale said, continuing his work. “Remind me to work on your pancake stipend.” “Oh, you are evil…” Tempest shivered under his touch. “...whenever you want to move on…” she whispered, getting rather impatient before their tongues were battling for dominance once more. A thin line of drool connected them. Tempest pushed him up off him, before resting on her legs, tossing her arms around him once more. They continued kissing sloppily, messily before Nightingale pulled her tank top up over her head. Tempest let out a soft gasp and then tackled her husband back into the bed spread once more. Kissing noisily, Nightingale moved his hands down to her flanks, and squeezed tightly. Tempest threw back her head in another loud moan. She grabbed him by his chest fur and shoved her lips back down onto his. Grinding her hips against his own, Tempest ripped away his boxers. The mare, now clad in a only body-hugging pair of panties perhaps one size too small, began grinding her hips with an ever growing intensity. The fiery lust in her eyes was now pronounced with an incendiary gaze. Nightingale’s eyes matched her own. Tempest pulled him up, slamming her lips into his as they fell backwards. Their hands continued grabbing at each other, before Tempest rolled her husband onto his back for the umpteenth time. She growled as she began kissing his neck even as Nightingale began removing her panties. “Oh yes… yeah that’s the stuff…” Tempest whispered. “Exactly like that. Took you fucking long enough…” As her lust grew, as ever, so did the strength of her swears. Nightingale, for his part, just rolled her onto her side, before shoving his cock into her tailhole. Tempest let out a sharp gasp, her eyes widening at how sudden it was before she closed them in pleasure. Her hands gripped the sheets, before the two settled into a gentle rhythm picking up speed with the passing minute. “FUCK!” Tempest shouted loudly before snarling. “You think that’s the best you’ve got grunt? NOT EVEN CLOSE!” “Yes, ma’am!” Nightingale barked before he picked up his speed. “Not ma’am, here you call me sir!” Tempest ordered before her bark turned into another loud moan. Her hands gripped the sheets even tighter, threatening to rip them wide open. Nightingale’s arms ensnared her, wrapping around her waist and squeezing her abs. Her body rocked back and forth, Nightingale letting out let gasps and grunts as he continued his work. If anyone had been passing by, they’d probably have heard the loud sounds of the two’s lovemaking and blushed as red as the sun. Thankfully, Nightingale and Tempest had long since passed the point of caring about what others thought. The whole street probably knew their active sex life by this point. Tempest often joked that they were just jealous that someone around here was clearly getting some and living their life. She hated suburbia, said it sucked the life out of just about anyone, like a fucking vampire as she put it. As soon as she or her husband got the money together, they were moving out of this house and into something a wee bit nicer. But that was the future. This was the here and now. “DAMN YOU, CAN’T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT?” Tempest shouted. “YOU SHOULDA BROUGHT ME TO A CLIMAX BY NOW!” Almost as if on cue… “YES!” Tempest shouted as her whole body rocked with pleasure, and she accidentally kicked her husband in the shin as she flailed around like mad.  “Owwwww…” Nightingale whimpered as he winced in pain having pulled out in the chaos. “Sorta took the whole dominatrix thing a bit too far.” Tempest gasped and rolled over to inspect the damage. “...sorry,” she whispered. “Here, let me take over…” she said as she clambered over atop of him. “This a bit better?” Nightingale had a good decent view of her abs, and was inclined to agree. “Oh, yes, definitely.” “Ah, I see…” Tempest smiled as she crossed her arms, her abs emphasized with this motion. “Well, I think I know what to do now…” “O-Oh?” Nightingale asked, feeling sorta nervous, and at the same time completely turned on.  “What do you think?” Tempest asked, flexing her muscles. “Oh… OH!” Nightingale said before his proclamation turned to another gasp as Tempest began rolling her hips, and bouncing up and down on his cock. “Ah, ah! So, what do you think?” Tempest asked, flexing her muscles and generally showing them off. “You like them? Want to kiss them? Want to feel them?” “Ah, yes!” Nightingale gasped out as Tempest continued, bringing herself up and slamming herself down back on atop of him to the squeak of the bedsprings. “Of course, yes!” “Sorry, not right now!” Tempest said. “You’re going to just have to lay back and watch the show!” “You’re… Celestia, you’re evil!” Nightingale as his body threatened to be ransacked by waves of pleasure. “Sorry, I’m not Celestia. Not even Nightmare Moon!” Tempest said, flexing her muscles once again. She let him kiss her right arm, once, just once before she pulled it away again. “That was just a taste, be a good stallion and maybe I’ll let you have another.” Nightingale formed a blue hand of magic, and gently shoved Tempest back on top of him, pushing her downwards onto him. “....Now, about that taste…” Nightingale said before slamming his lips to hers once more. Tempest pulled away, her tongue dancing with his own. Once again, a thin line of saliva connected them. Back to work they went, Tempest practically bouncing atop him before a wave of pleasure hit her. Cum squirted out as she let out a scream, and collapsed atop her husband’s chest. “Yours or mine?” Nightingale asked. “Mine,” Tempest answered breathlessly, weakly bobbing atop his cock all the same. Then, she let out another sigh as she felt Nightingale’s orgasm. Tempest gave a little pleased smile, before snuggling into his chest. She breathed out: “And that’s yours…” “I love you,” Nightingale said, taking a hand to tilt her head to meet him in the eyes. “I love you so much.” “Mhmm, I thought you did,” Tempest said. “I’d be worried if it was anyone else ogling my abs like a slice of meat the way you did. Now, what’s that you said about my ass again? Damn, was it?” “You heard that?” Nightingale said, his eyes widening in shock.  “Yeah, I heard it,” Tempest said. “And given you weren’t shoving your head into my breasts I think we both know where your interests lie.” “What gave it away?” Nightingale teased. “Mhmm, might have been you shoving your dick into my flanks, might have been it!” Tempest said with a small little laugh. “Now I’m not going to judge, I mean your flanks aren’t that bad yourself you know! Seeing you in those sweatpants earlier? Yummy. Yeah, going to be dreaming about that one for a while.” “So I am good for something!” Nightingale teased back. Tempest patted his head affectionately. “Mhmm, keep telling yourself that. Right now you’re only good for food and sex,” Tempest replied. “Oh, now I am just offended,” Nightingale said. “No post coitus cuddles for a week!” “Oh, you are a bad buck…” Tempest said her eyelids growing heavy.  “Mhmm, we’ll see. We’ll see…” Nightingale said before falling to sleep with Tempest soon to follow, snuggling into his chest but not before letting off a final: “Love you…”