Raen's Ramblings

Your teeth sunk into his shoulder, earning you a soft hiss for your trouble.  “Where’d you learn this from, hmm?” Caleb asked, a slight edge to his voice, though you knew it was more for show than anything else.  And regardless of whether the jealousy was real or faked, his voice sent a shiver up your spine.  You pulled back and absent-mindedly licked your lips, brain already a little hazy with lust.  Caleb’s pupils were blown wide, his erection nudging insistently against your ass as you straddled him.  His shoulders, collarbones, and neck were already littered with your marks, but you still weren’t quite satisfied.  Caleb, for his part, was content to let you do as you pleased, though it was clear from not only his tone but the way his chest heaved that he was having a hard time restraining himself at this point.  Oh well.

            You leaned forward, making sure to drag your hips over his, his still-clothed cock rutting against your core.  He shuddered underneath you, but otherwise left his hands firmly planted on your hips.  You found an unmarked spot on this neck and wasted no time latching on, taking your time lavishing the area with your attention before pulling back with a single, soft kiss to the already reddening mark.  Caleb bucked his hips in response, and you allowed a soft moan past your lips in encouragement.  He bucked again, but though the pressure against your heat was much welcome, you weren’t ready to relent.  No… your urge to bite and mark was still strong, despite the fact that you were running out of room.  That was just as well, you just had to move a little lower. 

You can’t tell him – what if it got back you snuck away from your stepmother? She’d have you sweeping that damn chimney for the rest of your existence.

Your pulse rushes in your ears, stepping just a little closer, knowing you're probably terrible at pretending to really be nobility, or any sort of lady, feeling the heat of his palm through your satin gloves. "I'm... um, just a guest."

"Every guest has a name," he says, his gaze drifting down to the little chain on your neck curiously, his hand falling off. "Tell me, what brings someone so lovely to hide in the gardens rather than dance?"

"I'm afraid I cannot dance," Satoru blinks curiously, the way the moonlight hits your face and bounces off that silver mask has him almost blushing, the rise and fall of your chest in that snug corset, your own faint blush heating up your skin - out of every girl tonight, you're just...

Different.

"Cannot dance? Nonsense," he smirks and holds out a hand now, tilting his head. "I'll teach you."

"N-no! I'm utterly unteachable... I... oh!" Satoru tugged you in his arms, and you fell against his hard chest, a hand on that elegant blue uniform he's wearing. "Prince Gojo..."

"Call me Satoru."

“Oh I could not ever,” you are panicking being this close to him, his heat, his hard chest so strong as you stumble and damn near trip over your feet. “I’m stepping all over you!”

“It’s fine,” you could literally walk on Satoru and he’d just thank you, with those pretty glass slippers that click gently as you move. He picks you up and grins as you gasp out. “I’ve got you.”

“You cannot just…” he’s lifted you off the ground now so that your feet are on his, moving and guiding you with a little chuckle. “I’ll hurt your feet!”

“Nah, I’m fine,” he’s more than fine – Satoru thinks he’s fucking in love at first sight.

The nonsense of fairytales, but how else does he explain how perfect your corseted waist feels in his arms? How you’re looking at him and making him melt? Satoru’s in love with a girl and he doesn’t even know her name. Perhaps it’s the champagne and how pretty you are, perhaps his advisor Suguru was right and Satoru was a dreamer.

Yet you’re like a dream waltzing rather clumsily on his feet.

He finally manages to speak, to act like any of this is normal, his lips quirking up at the corner. "You're a natural, see?"

"I'm just standing on your feet!” You’re giggling though, the sound and your smile making him ache. He can only wonder how beautiful you were without half of your face covered, even more pretty than those eyes and those lips?

Yet it’s more, something about you drawing him in, he tightens his hold on you, your body pressed to his, clearing his throat as he tries to focus.

Tonight was supposed to be ‘the end’ so to speak – find a boring, perfect debutante for his bride, he had been dreading it for months, yet all he can think of right now is how much he is enjoying being in this garden with you.

"Details."

“No? Actual facts?”

“Semantics, sweetheart,” you laugh again, shaking your head.

“You’re nothing like I’d think a Prince to be.”

“Is that good or bad?” He asks, stopping his movements and easing you off his feet, not releasing you, no, he’s got you firm against him still. The music from the ballroom is fading, just a little hazy in both of your ears, intermingling with his soft chuckle and your little pleased sigh.

“It’s good, very good,” you can’t say it – that you are so wary of nobility because of your step mother, because you’re hidden merely because your mother was a mistress rather than a wife. “You’re just… different.”

“I could say that about you,” his lashes lowered just a bit, hand on the small of your back sliding up where it’s bare, ever so scandalously. "I think we've earned a break from the lesson, yes?”

You manage a little nod, swallowing nervously as Satoru’s silk gloved hand slides from your back to the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling gently in the hair that’s coiffed and pinned. He tilts your head back gently, having you meet his gaze, your own hands sliding to his chest, hidden by the alcove so that you’re just out of sight.

If you’re going to have one night of freedom, shouldn’t it be a good one?

How can you think like this!

"You're blushing again," he murmurs, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Even your ears are warm. Is it the dancing, or is it me?"

You can't form a coherent thought, let alone any sort of words for an answer, just looking up at him and wetting your lips nervously, tongue slipping over the plump of your lower one.

“Asked you a question, princess.”

“Oh I’m so far from that,” you whisper, he chuckles as he thinks to himself how your hips would give him perfect heirs, how he’d love those lips to be glossy from his saliva rather than anything else.

“Every girl here wants to be the next princess,” he says, nose brushing yours as he bends down. “Not you, though.”

“Not me…”

Gong. Gong. Gong.

“Oh!” You look at the giant clock ticking overhead, enormous and pristine, loudly echoing in your ears. “It’s almost midnight. I should… go.”

“A curfew?” He asks, even more curious, nobles party until well into the morning, but you’re leaning up now, hugging him around his neck, making him falter.

“Thank you for tonight, Satoru,” god how your name sounds on his lips, pressing a kiss on his cheek and pausing, a breath away from the corner of his mouth. He tilts your chin up, studying you carefully.

“Running away already?”

“I must soon…” You trail off and look right at his lips, sighing. “Perhaps one minute more.”

“May I kiss you, before you disappear?” He asks then, you nod quickly, seeing the lashes casting shadows on his high cheeks as he bends down, closing the distance and capturing your lips.

The first press of his lips is impossibly soft, a tentative movement that he pulls back from quickly, exhaling, the breath ghosting over your mouth, grip tightening as he paints soft kisses against them. You whine out before you can stop yourself, making him moan and pause for just a moment.

“Oh I’ve… never kissed…”

“I’m your first kiss?” He asks softly, you nod and tug him down again, making him chuckle. “Did you like it, princess?”

“I do very much,” he kisses you again, his tongue slipping on the seam of your lips as if it’s seeking entry, tasting of champagne and something sweet – scones, you think, the mixture hypnotic somehow.

Your first kiss is with Prince Gojo.

You both stumble a bit until you fall onto him in the gardens, he lands on his back with a soft thud on the grass. You’re gasping as you lose your balance, Satoru chuckles as he catches you on his body, holding you tightly, lips pulled into a full grin that makes him look even more handsome.

“Hmm, I’d like to see you without this mask.”

“Sir you’re very bold,” he raises a brow, hands on your hips – god imagine kissing you between your thighs, holding them firm?

“Says the lady on my lap.”

“Oh, you’re a tease!” You lean up and his eyes are glittering , leaning up on his elbows and nuzzling your nose with his. “Mngh…”

“The sounds you make,” he whispers, you’re straddling him with your skirts strewn all across you, heat pressing on his length, you probably don’t even know what it is but you grind on it, making him hiss. “Just from a kiss, I wonder how you’d sound if I kissed you here.”

His lips press on the rushing pulse behind your ear, you’re rolling those hips once more, fingers entangled in his silky locks, his breath sending trembles across you, the whine that escapes your lips almost makes him lose it.

“Fuck…”

“Oh dear, I’m so-”

“Don’t move, god,” he moans and grips you rougher than he meant to, arching up as he kisses up the side of your neck, lips drifting over your frantic, racing little pulse, your nails press into his shoulders, holding still as his breath ghosts your collarbone, fingertips brushing across your neckline.

“It feels so good,” you can’t help but move again, making him suck in a breath, kissing you deeper, your arms wrapping his neck as your tongue slips in and out of his mouth, exhaling as you move with him, feeling this need building inside that has you hot, dizzy. “Satoru…”

“Don’t leave,” he whispers, lips glossy from your kisses, sighing and cupping your face gently. “Stay. I’ll tell your chaperones.”

Chaperones.

As if you had those.

“I cannot…”

“We will pause,” he says, barely holding onto his last thread, eyes looking up at the pretty masked girl sitting on his lap, sitting up fully and studying you carefully. “I must know more about you, anything… especially your name-”

Gong Gong Gong.

“I’m so sorry,” you stumble off his lap, questioning yourself then – hearing your stepmother and stepsisters in your head making fun of you.

As if you fit in?

Tonight was an insane idea, one your fellow servants had for you, these glittery slippers and your mother’s old gown weighing heavy as you stand, almost stumbling as your heel digs into the earth. The Prince stands with you, steadying you with a hand on your upper arm, his lips parted.

“There’s nothing interesting about me,” you whisper, tears slipping and glimmering in your eyes.

“I find that impossible to believe.”

You smile, lips trembling, before kissing his cheek, your own lashes closing, sticky droplets of tears falling from them. You murmur your name for his ears, before rushing away, holding onto your dress as you ascend the narrow steps towards the ballroom, hearing him call it out.

“Don’t go! Please, just…” You turn and he can’t see your face then, not with the lighting of the ballroom as your background, casting a shadow of your figure.

“Thank you, my Prince,” you turn once more, Satoru rushes up the stairs then, pausing when he sees a glinting bauble on the step by his dress shoe. He picks it up, studying it carefully, his gaze flickering to where you’ve completely disappeared.

Your name was not familiar, it was not a family he’d ever heard of, a name he’d ever heard either.

Just who were you?

*****

“Hurry, miss, hurry!” Your fellow servants are rushing to undress you from the big gown as your carriage, rickety and loud, has made it just before your step family.

“Turn!” You do just that and let them unlace the back of it in quick little motions, the fellow women studying you once they put back on your maid attire.

“Miss, did you…”

“I um…” You’re blushing now, giggling as if you’re intoxicated from that sip of champagne, nodding.

“You kissed!” You shush one of them, even though the three of you are breathlessly laughing. “Tell us, tell us!”

“He was so handsome, so sweet,” you sigh, all dreamy, looking in the mirror and smoothing your apron down your front, touching your ear then. “Oh dear, I lost one of mama’s earrings!”

“She would have wanted you to have fun,” you get emotional then, as they fix up your hair – they still take care of you when they can, remembering how things were before your father remarried, when you were the lady of the house despite the mother you had not being ‘nobility’.

Your mother – all you have is a little photo of her in a locket.

“Was she kind, mama? Would she…” You swallow just a bit. “Like me?”

“Of course she would, miss,” they turn to you then, trying to cheer you up. “Who kissed the lipstain off.”

You blush furiously, before leaning over to whisper. “A prince.”

“A prince!?”

“Shh!” You hear it then, the hooves of the horses on the cobblestone path, turning your head to peer right back at the noise, the one earring you have left firmly in your palm. “We must act normal… but…”

“But?” You turn to them and your eyes well up with emotions, taking each of their hands.

“It was the best night of my life.”

*****

“This earring,” Satoru smiles days later as he has tea across from several young ladies – four daughters in one family, all matching your height and some of your features. He assesses them carefully, searching for any sign of you – since the name you gave him existed in no public records.

Where was the masked girl with the one earring?

“It’s mine!” One girl exclaims, giggling and standing. “It must be mine, your highness.”

“Ah, I see,” he stands and walks over, peering into her eyes, hoping for anything to click like it did before – it had been dark out, was he mistaking this? Was it really you? “Where’s the matching?”

She falters then, and her sisters are laughing at her. “I um… your highness, as it were… I do not…”

“I see…” He finishes his tea and bows at the giggling ladies, smiling all charming like he’s not losing his mind. “Farewell, for now, dear ladies.”

He’s furious when he slams the carriage door, his advisor Suguru looking up from the ledgers he’s balancing while waiting for the prince. His dark eyes take Satoru in carefully. “You look like shit.”

“Aw thanks, Suguru,” he snorts and Satoru climbs in across from him, earring flipped over and over in his palm. “That’s every woman her height and hair color aside from one house – out of twenty nearly. And nothing.”

“What was it about her?” Suguru asks. “To make you announce you’re looking for a bride and all? It’s so unlike you.”

“I can’t tell you it’s…” Satoru touches his lip thoughtfully, spreading those long legs in the carriage bench, the plush velvet brushing his elegant tailcoat as it begins to rock towards the last stop. “It’s everything about her.”

“Is the prince in love at first sight?” Suguru is teasing, but when he sees Satoru’s glare he pauses. “Oh fuck… it is?”

“I don’t know what else this is, this feeling in my heart,” he clutches it over his dress shirt, staring out the pretty countryside view as they start to move towards the last hope. “I can’t describe it at all, but I must have her, I must know her… I cannot even think of another woman when she exists in this world.”

Suguru is quiet then.

“Who knew the rakish prince would fall so in love so quickly?”

“Shut it,” Suguru’s serious then, pulling up the information on the last house and studying it. “Who are they?”

“A widow and her two step daughters… some servants live there as well, but of course they wouldn’t be the ones you met. Maybe one of them is it?”

“We shall see…”

“Satoru?” He raises a brow. “If you don’t find her, what will you do?”

He laughs a bit, leaning his head back and throwing a forearm over his face, sinking against the seat and descending himself into darkness, picturing you so clearly. Running away from him even in his dreams, like he can never actually capture you.

“I don’t know if I can ever look at someone like that again.”

It’s quiet then.

“Well, I hope you’ll find her.”

*****

“The prince is coming!” Your stepmother rushes up to you and yanks your hair, making you cry out. “Make yourself good, girl! Now! Tea, chop chop!”

“Ouch,” you whine out when she smacks your cheek. “S-sorry…”

“Do not talk back!”

“I was not-”

“She’s become such a nuisance,” one of your sisters complains, donned in an obscenely gaudy pink gown, jeweled slippers that you’d worn that night, you pale when you see them.

“Those were my mother’s! You can’t have them!”

“Those were my mothers!” She’s mocking you, making hot tears prick the back of your eyes. “The prince is coming for me, you’ll let me wear them, you nor your mother was never worthy of such luxury.”

You almost smack her, knowing it’s a death sentence or at least a prison sentence to do so, feeling sick as the three women laugh.

“No, he’s coming for me!” Your other stepsister is wearing bright yellow, donned with the hairclip your mother left. “I couldn’t find those earrings of yours!”

“Why are you in my things when you have everything!?” They laugh again at your pain, your tears, always cruel without reason.

Why did you even go, why did you glimpse happiness when they were your reality?

“He’s here, shh!” Your stepmother and siblings stand in front of you now, blocking the view of the Prince being greeted, his dress shoes clicking on the hardwood beneath him. Your heart hammers in your chest as you stand there with your head down, your family making a spectacle of themselves.

“Your highness! Indeed, what an honor,” your mother is putting on the charm, but Satoru’s eyes are on you, a frown on his lips. “What do we owe the great pleasure of your visit?”

He sees the mark on the pretty servant’s cheek and glares at the woman now, the matriarch of the family scowling at you. “Please forgive us, we will leave her and retire to the-”

“You hit your help?” He asks, fists clenching underneath those white satin gloves, she blinks in confusion.

“Well, of course I do. She is quite-”

“You hit your fucking help, really?”

“Is it against any law, your highness?” She asks, raising a brow, Satoru grimaces in disgust, walking up to you, earning the caught breath of every servant, and the anger of your ‘family’.

“No it’s not, yet the thought of treating others like that disgusts me,” he peers down at you, tilting your chin up right in front of the room, your heart hammers so violently in your chest you feel dizzy. “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

Fuck.

Your knees go weak, the sudden sting of your cheek fading into nothing, not when he’s looking at you that way, you can hardly hold in your words – Satoru, it’s me.

You cannot let him know you impersonated a noble, he’s just being… kind, surely. 

“I am fine, your highness,” your voice puts it all together for him then, and in that moment the world shrinks – to just you and Satoru Gojo.

Not just a prince, but the boy you kissed in those gardens.

“Is this yours?” He asks quietly, taking the earring out and watching your expression, hearing their huffs of anger.

“You snuck into the ball!? You little tramp!” Your stepsister shouts, stomping on over when Satoru holds up a hand, halting her in her steps, watching as you tug the other earring out of your little reticule, a trembling hand being touched by his.

“You will be executed for such a travesty!” Your mother says, but Satoru scoffs, simply sliding the hook of the earring through the little spot they were pierced when you were just a little babe. He takes the other but not before studying your hand, covered in callouses, rubbed raw from scrubbing.

“Do not look, please,” you whisper, embarrassed that he has to see them – the nails nonexistent, the skin dry and cracking. He takes off his own glove and sets the other earring on, before he touches your hand, taking it and flipping it over, studying it carefully. “Please…”

“You shall never work these hands like this again,” you gasp at that, letting him take both of them in his own, the touch and warmth of his skin making you dizzy. “I promise you that you won’t…”

He says your name, softly then, smiling all bright as you break out into tears, holding you against him. “Prince Satoru…”

“God I looked all over for you,” he whispers, hand on the small of your back, your clothes are so old they’re falling apart, you seem almost frail to him like this, weak and worn down, not the happy girl he met.

Yet he knows it then, surely.

He did fall in love at first sight.

“What do you think about becoming my princess?”

“I could never! I…”

“Come,” he picks you up like it’s nothing, carrying you right out of there, you cling to his neck as he cradles you and your stepmother rushes up. 

“Surely I will get some compensation!” Your stepmother earns Satoru’s disgust as he looks upon her. “She was my late husband’s illegitimate offspring, I took her in when I did not have to! Fed her, clothed her, gave her shelter.”

“You did a fucking horrible job of all of it, if you ever loved your husband, how could you do this? This is why I hate nobility like you,” he clutches you tightly, feeling your face bury against his neck. “I’ll compensate you plenty to leave my kingdom, all of you, forever. Handsomely in fact. But you’ll never go near her again.”

“Satoru, you don’t have to!” You’re whispering, trembling in fear, but he ignores it all, shaking his head.

“I will make sure you have a nicer home than this, and dowries,” your stepmother quickly agrees, and that’s the last time you see her, or your stepsisters again. “Let us go visit your new home.”

*****

“They called you that, because you sat by the fireplace too much?” Satoru asks you softly weeks later, you all were having dinner but you’ve stayed in your own wing of his castle, he’s making sure that everything is properly done – the wedding a few more weeks away.

“They did,” you admit, holding his hand and blushing as he leans forward, studying it. “It’s still rough, Satoru.”

“That’s quite alright,” he kisses your knuckles then, his lips curving up in a sad smile. “I shall make sure that you never lift a pretty finger.”

“Nonsense!”

“No, you must stop helping clean and cook, too,” you shake your head, earning his smile widening. “Are you not listening to your prince?”

“Old habits die hard, at least let me bake with them! What else shall I do all day long!?”

“You’re a bratty girl,” you giggle, shaking your head and standing, walking over as he tugs you on his lap, sitting sideways, his fingers trailing across your knee, sliding that robe apart. “Very bratty.”

“Me, no indeed,” you are aching to do more, but Satoru has been very gentlemanly – so much in fact you find yourself moving on his lap in such a way that has his lashes fluttering closed. “Are you all right, my prince?”

“You’re killing me, perhaps you’re an evil girl after all,” your smile ruins him, along with the way goosebumps rise up your thigh. “Trying to tempt me before the marriage, hmm? No, no, we do it all properly – you’re my bride to be.”

“I can wait, I suppose,” your fingertips trail across his cheek, laughing softly then at his blush that dances across them. “Can you wait?”

“Indeed I have my methods,” jerking off to you every night after kissing you in front of your bedroom door. “Can you, pretty girl?”

“No,” you’re honest then, gasping as his fingers dart higher, your thighs spreading slightly as if on instinct. “Satoru…”

“Such an impatient girl, tsk,” he glides them higher until they find your cunt bare, already slick underneath the satin of your robes, feeling you shift and cry out in the way only you can. “Shall I have you cum all over my fingers, then? Give you just a taste of what I’ll do to you when you’re fully mine?”

“Oh, mngh y-you… please…” He kisses you as his fingers find your slit, gliding up and down and feeling that wetness just pour, moaning at the feeling, you’re damn near slippery with a gentle touch at your entrance, your tongue moving against his with much more precision than the first kiss.

“Please what, princess? Make you feel good?” Your nod is jerky, your nails pressing into his forearm and feeling it tense as he slides a finger in – making your eyes roll back in your skull. “You’re doing such a good job, look at you.”

“Am I? It’s so thick and… Satoru,” he’s curving one finger just so in your snug little hole, squishing so loud it fills your ears, mixing with his kisses on your collarbone, his nose brushing your skin. “Please!”

“Mhm, take a pretty tit out for me,” he orders softly, in the way only Prince Satoru can, you tug it down and blush when he sees your tit for the first time. “Oh god but you’re s’fuckin beautiful.”

Your answer is to arch your back, your head falling so that your hair cascades across his arm that’s wrapping you, his finger working as that mouth wraps a nipple and sucks. It is too much, the way he sucks, the way his finger moves faster, until you’re about to shatter, to fall apart right for him, his finger hitting that spot that has your vision getting fuzzy.

He moans around your nipple, tongue swirling it – his blue eyes looking up underneath those long white lashes at you, feeling your cunt stretch enough that he eases in a second.

“So full! I’m so… ah!” He pulls back from your nipple, his saliva dripping with strings dissolving from your tit, sighing and nuzzling your breast, kissing back up to your collarbone, his fingers making your cunt quiver. She clamps down as you get closer, feeling that pressure, the grinding of his fingers on that spot.

“You’re close, hmm?” He teases softly, smiling all proud of himself and fucking cute – he was proud he could make you feel good, that he could feel the way you’re reacting, see the pleasure on your face. “You’re so loud, your pussy is making such a mess, too.”

“You’re… I…” You feel it coming, overwhelming in its intensity then, stealing your breath as his fingers work faster, until you’re right there.

“That’s it, let go for me,” he whispers, pressing up on that spongy spot in your wall with his fingertips, massaging it as you shatter. “There you go, good little princess, cumming just for me.”

“Satoru, ngh!” You scream out obscenely, cunt squirting right down his hand and making a mess of his pants, of your silk robe, darkening the material as you fall apart in his arms, weak and almost falling on him. “S’good I… sensitive and… Satoru, I l-love you and…”

He pauses then, exhaling and kissing you deeply, easing his fingers out of the mess you are. “You love me, princess?”

You’re almost in tears. You feel so good, nodding quickly, watching as he sucks his long fingers, blushing furiously – your cunt is pulsing around nothing, seeing his cheeks hollow during the filthy little action. “You’re tasting me!”

“So sweet,” he mumbles, drunk off a lick, pulling back to see his fingers glossy and moaning at the sight, his eyes dark. “I can’t wait to really drink you.”

“Drink me?” He chuckles at how precious you are, tugging down your slip and holding you close, kissing your temple as you come down. “Satoru, that was so intense I just… I…”

“Are you all right? Too much?” He brushes your hair back, feeling your lips on his neck.

“Not enough.”

“Slutty princess,” you gasp and smack him when he chuckles, pulling back and cupping your chin, smiling at you. “I love you too.”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do, the moment I saw you in that garden,” you can’t stop the tears from falling, chest heaving as the aftershocks mix with your emotions. “Now don’t be so impatient, we have forever.”

You nod and kiss him again, and again, and again, until he carries you in his arms towards your bed. “I can’t wait to share the bed with you, my Prince.”

“Soon enough.” He lays you in it and kisses you, studying you carefully, brushing a lock of your hair back.

Satoru was only an eligible bachelor for one day – and now he has his happily ever after lightly snoring in her bed, murmuring his name.

Perhaps being the prince wasn’t so bad if he got you by his side.

He had noticed it the instant you’d opened your eyes that morning—a heaviness that hung over you, and a forced smile that didn’t quite make it to your eyes.  He didn’t pry, knew that if you wanted to discuss your problems you would have said something, so instead he decided on the next best thing: to pamper and spoil you rotten. 

            You’d mumbled something about wanting to sleep a bit longer, and Caleb had obliged, tucking the blanket closer around you and pressing a kiss to your forehead before getting up to prepare your favorite breakfast.  By the time you awoke again, he had a tray full of food to provide you breakfast in bed, complete with a tiny vase containing a little arrangement of hydrangeas from the garden.  He made small talk with you while you ate, sitting comfortably at your side, watching your features closely to monitor any changes in your mood.  A little light had returned to your eyes, but it was nowhere close to being enough.  That was alright, there were still plenty of things he could do to help.

            After you were finished eating, he drew you a nice, warm bath; making sure all your soaps and lotions and skin care products were within easy reach.  He knew he was being a bit overbearing, knew it might be a little early in the day for such a thing, but he needed you to be pre-occupied and relaxed so he could step out for a little bit.  Before that, though, he helped you to undress and washed your hair for you, the tightness in his own chest easing a little as he felt you lean into his touch as he massaged the shampoo into your scalp.  Once you were settled he gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you he would be back in a bit, and to take it easy. 

            Caleb’s next task was to run to the store and secure all of your favorite snacks.  He grabbed a cart, knowing that a basket would be too small for the amount of shopping he wanted to do, and began making his way methodically down every aisle.  He wasn’t going to risk missing a single thing that you might like.  He was glad he did, too, because he found a bin stuffed full of cute, fluffy blankets in one of the miscellaneous aisles.  The two of you already had a number of blankets already, but, hell, what was one more?  Too many blankets was never a bad thing.  He dug through the bin until he found one in your favorite color and added it to the large pile of goods already in the cart.  He finished the trip by picking out a few gift cards to some of the restaurants he knew you frequented.  This was one of those times he was glad his evol was gravity manipulation, as carrying the vast amount of bags back home would’ve been quite difficult on his own otherwise.

            You had just gotten out of the bath as he walked through the door, back in a set of clean pajamas he had left in the bathroom for you.  Your hair was still wet though—and that would never do.  He gently scolded you and herded you back into the bathroom.  You weakly tried to argue back, saying that you weren’t going to catch a cold if you let your hair air dry, but he was having none of it.  He deftly plugged in your hair dryer and got you sat on the counter.  He clicked the dryer on, making sure it wasn’t too hot, before methodically starting to dry your hair for you.  His hands ran through your hair soothingly, making sure he dried every strand.  Even after he was done he continued for just a bit longer, seeing how relaxed you had become, your eyes shut and head resting against his palm.  Caleb knew too much heat could damage your hair, though, so he finally finished up and helped you back to your feet.  “Come on, I got you some stuff.”

            He led you back to the living room where he’d abandoned the shopping bags previously.  Once there he began unloading everything, basking in your obvious disbelief and the first flickers of happiness that were starting to come back to your frame.  Soon, the coffee table and couch were covered in all kinds of goodies, and you were wrapped in the fluffy blanket he had found.  Caleb had gotten you to sit down and get comfy while he pulled up a selection of movies and shows he knew you loved for you to choose from.  And after you had decided, he plopped down onto the couch next to you and pulled you in close for cuddles.  He felt you heave a sigh as you buried yourself into his side, arms wrapping around his waist.  He nuzzled the top of your head.  “Feeling any better?” he asked softly.

            You hummed.  “Yeah.  Thank you.”

            Another nuzzle.  “Of course, Pips.  You know Caleb’s always here to take care of you, yeah?”

            You nodded, burying your face somehow even further into his shirt, and he laughed softly.  “I know,” you murmured.  “I just didn’t wanna bother you, that’s all.”

            Now it was Caleb’s turn to sigh, and he ruffled your hair gently.  “You’re never bothering me, you should know that by now.”