♡

Feyre stares at Rhys a moment from the doorway to the bathing room, picking at the corner of her nail. He’s reading, propped back against the pillows with the grey sheets pulled up to his waist and he glances up. A line deepens between his eyebrows and he frowns slightly. “What is it, Feyre?”

She steps forward hesitantly, then makes her way over to the bed, nightgown brushing her thighs. “I need to tell you something.” She crawls over to his side when he puts his book on the corner table and accepts the invitation to curl against him.

“Is this about the new addition? Because if you don’t completely like it, we can always change something,” he starts rambling, referring about the rooms they’d added to their Velaris apartment last month, including a painting studio for her.

“I wasn’t thinking about that,” she says with a small smile, tapping his ribcage with her fingers. She can’t see his face but she’s listening to the steady pulse of his heart, reassuring and warm beneath her ear.  “But we might have to do that anyway.” She imagines a room right next to theirs, a softly carved wooden cradle, a mobile with a moon and stars overhead and she bites her lip.