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A fantasy inspired AU with @xavierlumiere featuring prince!Xavier and princess! Tella
Tella nervously paced the length her balcony, her blue gown swishing with every movement. Her blonde curls spiraled down her back, free from the copious updo from court however her shoulders were still set back rigidly. She scanned the courtyard for any sign of him, only to be left alone.
It wasn't until the full moon reached its peak that she finally heard the telltale snap of a twig. Her sapphire eyes instantly locked onto his, a trembling exhale falling from her lips as she watched him effortlessly climb up to her balcony. The tree trunk and vines provided strong footholds that had seen use every night for as Xavier came to her.
Though tonight, instead of her heart leaping for joy, she only felt dread at the task of sharing the news she had been told only a few hours earlier. She wasted no time reaching out to cradle his face between her hands, her whisper feather soft in an attempt to ease the blow that had already shattered her heart.
“I cannot marry you. My father has already promised me to someone else.”
For a moment, just a moment, Xavier forgets everything. The palace, the guards, and the man waiting in those marble halls to claim her future. All of it disappears the second she collides with him.
His arms come around her instantly, instinctively. One hand presses firmly against her back, the other cradling the back of her head as if shielding her from a world that keeps trying to take her away from him. “Tella…” Her words hit him harder than anything else could have. His jaw tightens slightly against her hair, because he knows that truth too well.
Without you, I feel lost in the darkness. His grip tightens. “You’re not lost.” The words come low. “You’re right here.” He pulls back just enough to look at her, his hands still holding her like he doesn’t trust the world not to steal her the second he loosens his grip. “I’m the one who should’ve found you sooner.” There’s frustration in his words. At himself and fate.
Then she breaks again. I can’t do this. I can’t move on. I see you everywhere. His expression softens, something raw breaking through the restraint he’s been forcing onto himself since the moment he stepped into the forest.
“Good.” The word is quiet, almost a confession. “Because I haven’t been able to either.” His thumb brushes gently beneath her eye, catching the remnants of tears she didn’t even realize had fallen. “I tried,” he admits. “Thought if I stayed away… if I let you live the life they chose for you…” A small, humorless breath escapes him. “I’d stop wanting what I can’t have.” His forehead rests against hers.
“But I was wrong.” His hand slides down, finding hers, the one curled inward, hiding the ring. Carefully, gently, he turns her hand over. The star. His breath catches, just slightly. “You kept it.” His fingers lace with hers, closing around the ring instead of letting her hide it. “Tella…” His voice drops. There’s a decision forming behind it. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Say the word…” his eyes lock onto hers, unwavering now, “and I will take you away from all of it.” The forest stills around them. “No more surviving.” His grip tightens just slightly. “Just choose me.”
It’s Xavier and MC’s first time on a mission as a couple. Their company knows they're dating, so they decide to save money and get one hotel room instead of two.
The mission briefing had been completely normal, until the very last line. “Due to budget optimization, assigned operatives will share accommodations.”
There had been a pause. A long one. Xavier had very deliberately not looked at you.
By the time you reached the hotel, neither of you had said a word about it. Not in the car. Not in the elevator. Not even when the receptionist handed over a single keycard with a polite, knowing smile.
It wasn’t until the door clicked open that reality finally settled in. One room. One bed.
Xavier stepped inside first to scan over the room. Everything looked clean and safe. A king sized bed sat right in the center. Not even two small ones, no, an actual king sized mattress.
Just one. For us.
He set his gear down carefully on the table, buying himself some time. “We can… request another room.”
Xavier watched the way you sat. The very cautious way you laid down like the bed might reject you. “…You’re going to fall,” he said quietly.
He stepped closer, then sat on the bed beside you. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, shifting you just a little closer without him even touching you yet.
When you pulled the blanket up to your chin and stared at him like that, he paused. “…Xavie?” That nickname, it did something to him. His expression softened almost immediately.
“We can cuddle, right?”
“…Yes,” he answered without hesitation, ike there was never a world where the answer would be no. “…You feel shy because this is new,” he said quietly. “No mission. No urgency. Just… us.” A small pause. “…You’re aware of it.”
When you asked about the second blanket, his gaze dropped to the one you were currently gripping like armor, then back to you. “…No.” His hand reached out and gently caught the edge of the blanket. Just easing it down slightly from your chin.
“You don’t need it,” he murmured. He shifted closer. One arm slipped around you, resting more securely at your back. He guided you just a little closer, away from the edge of the bed.
“…Stay here,” he said softly. His other hand adjusted the blanket properly over both of you this time. A quiet pause settled. “…Is this okay?” he asked, voice lower now.
She lets him pull her a little closer. Settling closer to him, she looks up at him with big eyes, watching him closely.
"...this blanket is too little", she whispered. Perhaps, it could be considered too little — if you were saving a distance while sharing one blanket. However, it was big enough to cover the king sized bed.
Slightly shifting, almost warily, she slips closer to him. Just a little.
"We should... uhm... rest", she murmured quietly, looking at his face as if she sees it for the first time.
What's so bad? They were a couple, so sleeping together is normal, was it? It could be, if he was wearing his white T shirt, but no. He was laying in robe that barely hid anything once he laid on the bed. Perhaps, the belt accidentally weakened its knot.
She could see his neck and collarbones. So instead she looked at the ceiling.
"...Xavie?"
...
"I feel shy", she confesses quietly, her gaze still on the ceiling as she tries to collect herself and ignore her attractive boyfriend. Perhaps, this bed was her biggest enemy. Even scarier than this mission.
She gulps loudly (even though she tried her best to hold composure).
So that's what sleeper build was. He was a hunter, of course, he has muscles. But now, seeing them slightly (thanks to the robe) instead of seeing his oversized hoodie, she felt like screaming and clawing her face from internal panic.
"...Xavie?"
...
"I got very lucky with you", she whispered softly, still staring at the ceiling.
"I want to grow comfortable with you, but I feel like panicking because you're acting differently today. Something about you is... I don't know—... makes me shy, you know? And this stupid blanket and one bed and–... and this stupid robe. My cheeks are burning", she says quietly, pouting in defeat.
“…It’s the robe.” He said it simply, like he’d identified the core of the problem with quiet precision. A faint exhale left him, almost amused. “…And the situation.” His hand shifted slightly against your back, a slow, reassuring motion. “You’re not used to seeing me like this,” he added. “And we’re not in a mission.”
His gaze dropped to you, still staring at the ceiling. “…So your mind has too much space to think.” He adjusted slightly, just enough to make things more comfortable, but also, subtly, to pull the blanket higher around you both.
“…You don’t have to force yourself to get used to it all at once,” he said quietly. “No one expects that.” A small pause. “…And I’m not trying to make you shy.” His hand stilled briefly against your back before continuing.
“If anything,” he added, “I should be the one apologizing.” Another pause. “…I didn’t think about how this might feel for you.” He shifted slightly again, reaching for the edge of the robe, adjusting it more securely. “…Better?” he asked quietly. “Or should I get dressed now?”
Tella knew something was wrong when Xavier missed the check in time. Perhaps splitting up to clear No Hunt Zone 7 had been a mistake, but their past month of patrols here had been uneventful. But something felt amiss, like a prickling on her heart that could only mean something was wrong.
She felt a flicker of warmth that mimicked the faint gold resonance that used with Xavier. Following that tug of an invisible string, she sprinted through the woods. Smacking branches out of her way and leaping over bushes, her blonde ponytail swayed behind her while her blue eyes scanned for any trace of him. After a few strides, her nose twitched as the metallic scent hanging heavy in the air caused her stomach to drop as she ran towards him.
His crumpled form was on the ground against a tree trunk. Falling to her knees, her fingers flew to his neck to check for a pulse. Feeling the beat of his heart, she relaxed ever so slightly, but not by much. Cupping his face in her hands, she willed him to look at her.
“Xavier, I'm sorry. I just need to see how bad it is. Where does it hurt?”
Xavier watches her pull back, and for a moment, there’s a faint shift in his expression, something like quiet disapproval, though it never fully forms. “You already did enough,” he says softly.
His gaze follows hers, briefly landing on the IV, the hidden bandages, then back to her face. He understands what she’s looking at and what she’s thinking.
“You’re not… useless,” he adds. “You found me. You kept me awake. You made a decision quickly.” His fingers move, brushing lightly against her wrist. “Those were the important factors.” His eyes soften just slightly. “The rest is… procedural.”
When she offers to get a nurse, he shakes his head faintly. “No, I don’t require more pain medication.” His gaze lingers on her, steady despite the fatigue creeping back in. “…Stay here. That’s enough… and maybe… another berry.”
Continuation of Meteor Shower / Hotpot Date at Xavier’s Apartment
(with @awaited-wish — original post if you’d like to catch up)
👉🏻⭐️ dividers
Xavier let her take his hand without hesitation this time. “…You were getting quieter,” he said simply when she asked how he knew.
But his gaze lingered on her before he turned slightly, letting her tug him toward the balcony. As they stepped outside again, the night air greeted them like it had been waiting patiently for their return.
The meteor shower was still going, but no less beautiful. Streaks of light carved soft lines across the sky, fading just as quickly as they appeared, like the universe refusing to hold still.
Xavier didn’t let go of her hand. He just stood beside her, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as his eyes lifted to the sky.
“…Twice in one night,” he echoed softly, like he was testing the idea. Then, a faint exhale that might’ve been a quiet laugh. “That’s going to make it harder to call it coincidence.”
His gaze shifted to her. Watching her face instead of the meteors. “…Look,” he said gently.nAnother streak of light passed overhead, brighter than the others, briefly illuminating her features before fading into darkness again.
“…You missed that one,” he added quietly. His hand tightened slightly around hers. “And you’re not falling asleep,” he reminded her. “So I was right.”
The soft rhythm of the night broke instantly. A sharp, insistent alert cut through the calm. Xavier’s watch lit up first. Then hers.
His eyes were still on her when the notification finished syncing. “…Wanderer activity,” he said quietly. The warmth in his expression didn’t vanish, but it tightened.
His hand stayed in hers. Then, carefully, he let go. He exhaled once, turning slightly toward the direction of the alert. Location. Level. Density. Pattern.nHis eyes tracked it all in seconds.
“…It’s close,” he murmured. “I’ll clear it.” He glanced at her then.“…Stay here,” he said. Then, like he already knew her answer before she gave it, “…or don’t. But don’t come closer than you need to.” Then he turned. When he stepped forward, the world reacted to him.
Light gathered faintly at his fingertips. The calm Xavier from moments ago didn’t disappear, it narrowed into something sharp enough to cut through whatever was coming.
Marina made a small noise of disappointment as he pulled away from her. The loss of his warmth seemed to bring her back to reality, and she began to feel the ache in her side more acutely. "Is it so wrong to want to get used to it?" She sighed, but followed him to the couch obediently.
A fresh wave of exhaustion rolled over her as if on cue from his comment, and she felt her heart clench at the sight of him crouched there, gazing at her in concern. "How do you always know..?" She asked softly, reaching out to lightly brush the hair out of his eyes.
Noticing him reach for her shirt, she pulled it up herself, looking at him with a little trepidation. "I've been dreading this," she admitted, then looked down at the bandage. A crimson trail had spread along the length of the gash, but the gauze appeared less saturated than before. She breathed a small sigh of relief, taking it as a good sign that she hadn't exacerbated it further.
"I'm worried the gauze will stick," she said, chewing her lip. She was fully stalling at this point, the dull aching throb already starting to sharpen a little now that she was facing the imminent crash as the adrenaline worked its way out of her system. "Maybe we should wet it first?"
Then she registered the thin sheen of sweat that had broken out over her body, her shaking hands. "Maybe I'll take a bath and we can try to remove it after? I don't think I have the strength for a shower," she chuckled weakly.
His gaze flicked up at her question. Is it so wrong to want to get used to it? “…No,” he said quietly. “…It’s not.”
When she lifted her shirt, his focus snapped back in. He leaned in slightly, eyes scanning the bandage, the spread of red, the way it had settled better than before. Still not good.
His jaw tightened just faintly. Then she started listing options. Wet it. Bath. Later. Watched the tremor in her hands, the sheen of sweat, the way her breathing had started to shift.
“Are you sure?” His hand came up, gently but decisively stilling one of hers where it fidgeted near the bandage. “You’re crashing,” he said, voice low and even. “Bath can wait.” His thumb brushed once across her knuckles. “If you get in the water like this, you’re more likely to pass out than relax.”
A small pause, letting that settle. “And I’m not fishing you out of a tub tonight.” His hand shifted, careful near her side now. “We’ll do this here.” He glanced briefly toward the kitchen or bathroom area, already thinking a step ahead. “I’ll get warm water. We’ll loosen it slowly.”
He rose just enough to grab what he needed. “I’ve got you, remember?” When he came back, he knelt in front of her again, closer this time.
One hand steadied lightly at her waist, while the other brought the damp cloth toward the edge of the bandage. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said quietly.
Marina nodded, slightly relieved, when Xavier softly vetoed the bath. At this point, she didn't really feel like getting back up off the couch. "My first aid kit's in the closet in the hallway. I have some rapid healing gel that should still be good," she said as he rose to gather supplies.
When he knelt back down, one of her hands found his on her waist, curling her fingers around it, while the other lifted her shirt a bit higher. She took a deep breath. "I'm ready," she said, grateful adoration winning out over the exhaustion in her eyes.
She watched as he placed the cloth against the gauze, applying enough gentle pressure for the water to soak into it. The pain intensified slightly as the moisture began to break down the clotting that had fused with the bandage, and she hissed in a breath. He repeated the action a few times, rewetting the cloth and adjusting its placement to ensure the bandage was thoroughly saturated.
Her arm was trembling from the effort of holding up her shirt and the dreadful anticipation of what came next. A small noise of exhaustion, something like a quiet whimper or sob escaped her before she could stop it.
"My arm is getting heavy," she admitted, looking at him with an expression that belied her attempts to hide exactly how fatigued she was. "Would it make you uncomfortable if I just took this off?" She couldn't bring herself to feel embarrassed by the question. "If it does, you can turn around and I'll take the bandage off myself."
His gaze lifted immediately, sharp with concern. “…Hey,” he said softly. His hand on her waist tightened slightly. “…No,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”
His eyes held hers, making sure she understood that. “You don’t need to do this alone. And you definitely don’t need to hold that up if it’s hurting you.”
His free hand moved up to help. He guided the fabric just enough to ease the strain on her arm, taking that weight off her. “Let go,” he murmured gently. “Save your strength.”
Once she wasn’t straining anymore, his attention shifted back to the bandage. The cloth pressed again, making sure the gauze was fully loosened this time. “Almost there.”
His thumb brushed once against her side again. “When we take it off, it’ll pull a little,” he warned softly. “But not like it would’ve dry.”
His eyes flicked up to hers one more time. “Stay with me, alright?” Then carefully, he started to lift the edge of the bandage.
Before letting her arm drop, Marina reached out weakly to rest her hand on his cheek. "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you." Her voice was soft, her gaze tender. "I know you're exhausted too. Please don't pretend you aren't." Then she lowered her arm down slowly, breathing a soft sigh of relief.
She nodded at his warning, then turned her attention to the bandage as he slowly started peeling it back. The first few millimeters lifted away smoothly, only clinging lightly. She bit her lip from the sting as the cut became exposed to the air.
When they reached the midway point, the gauze tugged sharply, the clotting having bound too tightly to become fully softened. She felt Xavier's hand still the moment he felt resistance, but the sharp jolt of pain made her flinch. Her eyes squeezed shut for just a moment, a soft gasp leaving her lips.
He pressed the damp cloth against it for a few moments, then started again. This time, the dressing lifted more easily, only giving a little resistance as he pulled it back. Marina sucked in a breath, but nodded for him to continue. After that, he was able to lift it the rest of the way with only a slight bit of resistance.
She let out a long, shuddering breath as she looked down at the wound. Thankfully, there were no outward signs of infection and it had a clean edge to it. Blood had begun to bead up along the center of the laceration now that the gauze was removed, but it appeared that Xavier's care in applying the dressing had helped to keep it mostly closed.
"It looks alright," she said, her voice a little shaky. "Needs to be rinsed out, but otherwise I think you saved me from the worst." She glanced at the first aid kit. "There are steri strips in there. I think they might do the trick."
Then her eyes met his again. "I'm so lucky to have you," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
Xavier didn’t move when her hand touched his cheek. Didn’t lean into it, and didn’t pull away either. He just… stayed there, letting it happen, his eyes softening in a way that had nothing to do with the situation in front of him.
At her words, something quiet shifted behind his gaze, but he shook his head slightly. “…You don’t owe me anything,” he said, low and steady. “This isn’t a favor.” A small pause. “It’s just… us.”
When the bandage caught, his entire focus snapped back instantly. He stopped the moment she flinched. The cloth came back down waiting until the tension eased before trying again.
Every movement after that was slower. Measured against her reactions instead of the wound itself. Until finally, it came free. He watched her carefully as she exhaled, but his attention dropped immediately to the injury once she steadied.
His shoulders eased. At her assessment, he gave a small nod. “Yeah,” he murmured. “It held better than it should’ve.” A quiet admission. Then he reached for the kit, already pulling out what he needed, steri-strips, antiseptic, and fresh gauze.
When she spoke again, I’m so lucky to have you, that made him pause. His hands stilled where they hovered over the supplies, then his eyes lifted to hers. “…Marina.” Her name, softer this time. He exhaled slowly, like he was choosing not to say more than he should.
“It goes both ways.” His hand moved back to her side, gentle again. “Alright,” he said, voice settling back into that calm steadiness. “This part’s going to sting more than the bandage.”
He reached for the antiseptic. “Clean it first. Then we close it.” A brief glance up, checking her. “Stay with me.” And then he started, careful and precise, making sure every movement was as gentle as it could be, even knowing it wouldn’t be painless.
Marina nodded, silently acknowledging the weight of his words. What came next would not be pleasant. She adjusted slightly on the couch to lean back a little more comfortably so she'd have a better chance of withstanding the pain.
Her hand flew to her mouth to muffle the whimper that escaped her as he began to apply the antiseptic. She glanced down at him to signal that she was okay for him to keep going, her brows knitting together in concentration, fighting to keep herself still.
Although he worked quickly, his touch as gentle as it could possibly be, it felt like an eternity of searing pain to Marina. Each time the antiseptic made contact with the wound, it would flare, then fade away only for the next gentle dab of the swab to renew the cycle. She had to keep reminding herself to breathe.
Then, finally, it was over, and she lowered her hand from her mouth to suck in a deep breath, releasing it as a sigh. She felt utterly depleted. The effort to hold still and keep from crying out on top of the exhaustion she had already felt made it difficult for her to keep her eyes open. "At least the worst part's over," she said, smiling weakly.
Her heart caught in her throat as she watched him prep the steri-strips, trimming them to an appropriate length. Her thoughts went back to the words he had spoken earlier. “This isn’t a favor. It’s just… us.” The simplicity of the statement belied the compassion and care evident in each of his actions. But that was Xavier: quiet, unassuming, constant.
She gave a weak nod as he checked in with her before he began to apply them, her eyelashes fluttering softly as she struggled against the fatigue. He started from one end and moved his way across slowly, applying each strip to the skin above the laceration before carefully pressing it together and pulling the strip gently to adhere it below.
When he finished placing the last strip, she reached her hand out to him. "Come here," she said, looking at him with adoration. "Please? The bandage can wait, can't it?"
Xavier finished pressing the last steri strip into place, his fingers lingering just long enough to make sure the edges held. He exhaled quietly, some of the tension finally leaving his shoulders now that the worst of it was handled.
Then she reached for him. “Come here.” He froze for a second. His eyes lifted to hers, taking in the exhaustion, the softness, and the way she was barely holding herself upright now that the adrenaline and pain had both taken their toll.
“…The bandage should go on,” he said at first, almost automatically. His gaze didn’t leave hers. He gave in soon after. “…It can wait a minute,” he amended softly. He shifted up from where he’d been kneeling, careful not to jostle her, and moved onto the couch beside her instead of staying at a distance.
One arm slid around her shoulders, guiding her gently toward him so she didn’t have to do the work herself this time. The other stayed mindful of her side, resting light and protective. His chin dipped slightly, brushing near her hair as he settled.
“…Easy,” he murmured. After a moment, his hand moved slowly along her upper arm. “You did enough tonight,” he added quietly. “More than enough.” His hold adjusted just slightly, making sure she was comfortable, not pressing her injury. “…Rest for a minute,” he murmured.
Marina sighed softly as he gathered her to him, the warmth of his body against hers almost more soothing than she'd imagined it would be. Combined with the calming glide of his hand on her arm, it was enough to finally feel the shaking begin to subside. After he adjusted, she rested her head on his shoulder and slid her hand up to his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers.
"This is how it should have gone," she said, her voice hushed with fatigue. "After the meteor shower, we'd come inside again. Sit together just like this," she let her thoughts wander, fighting the urge to fall asleep in his arms.
"Well, maybe a little closer," a weak chuckle. "I'd have the strength to run my fingers through your hair." She sighed again, her fingers curling unconsciously against his chest. "I'd kiss you..." She trailed off, letting the silence stretch as her fingers began to lightly trace circles now.
She adjusted slightly to lean back a little so she could look up at him, unable to stop a wince of pain as she did. "How did you imagine it?" She asked as she turned her gaze to him, blinking slowly with the effort to keep her eyes open.
His hand didn’t stop its slow, steady motion along her arm, even as her voice softened, drifting somewhere between exhaustion and something more vulnerable. “This is how it should have gone…” He let out a quiet breath through his nose. “Minus the injury,” he murmured.
When she talked about sitting closer… running her fingers through his hair… kissing him… His hand slowed. Her fingers tracing circles against his chest didn’t help. It made his heartbeat more noticeable beneath her hand.
When she shifted to look at him and winced, his arm tightened slightly in reflex. “Careful,” he said quietly, his other hand adjusting at her side to support her better, taking some of the strain off without pushing her back down.
“How did you imagine it?” That made him pause. His gaze held hers, searching for a second like he was deciding how much to say. “…Slower. No interruptions. No alarms.” His thumb brushed lightly against her arm again.
“We would’ve stayed outside longer,” he continued. “You would’ve gotten cold and pretended you weren’t.” A faint flicker of something warmer in his eyes. “I would’ve noticed anyway.”
“And then we’d come back in.” His gaze softened slightly, drifting inward, like he was actually seeing it play out. “Not like this,” he added. “No rush. No… aftermath.” His hand shifted just slightly at her shoulder.
“You wouldn’t be fighting to stay awake… And yeah… probably closer.” That almost smile again, gone as quickly as it came. His eyes returned fully to hers. “But this…” his arm tightened just slightly around her, pulling her back against him, “…is still real.”
Not the version they wanted, but not something lesser, either. His voice dropped just a little. “…And I’m still here.”
As he stretches, I find myself watching the movement of his shirt and a sudden sharp feeling flashes through me. This is a trap.
I exhale through my nose once, softly. 'I have to balance you out,' I say, offering a half smile. 'With restraint, I mean.' Slowly, I sit down. 'Not my fault you're irresistible.' I twist to look at him properly, reassured by his relaxed posture that maybe he wouldn't be sly this time. 'Did you have nice dreams, Xavi?'
Xavier’s gaze lingers on you as you settle beside him. Your words earn a soft, almost inaudible hum. “Irresistible…” he repeats under his breath.
He shifts onto his side to face you fully, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting loosely between you. “…You’re balancing me out?” he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “That sounds tiring.”
When you ask about his dreams, his expression softens further, eyes drifting for a second like he’s reaching back for something hazy. “Mm… I don’t remember all of it,” he admits quietly. “Just… a feeling.” His gaze returns to you, clearer now. “You were there,” he adds. “Close enough that I didn’t have to look for you.”
“…I think I liked that.” His fingers shift slightly against the mattress, inching just a little closer to yours before stopping again, like he’s choosing not to push his luck. “But this is better,” he murmurs. “You’re actually here.”
“…And asking about my dreams like you didn’t just call me dangerous five minutes ago.”
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Xavier lets out a soft, surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s trying to hide how pleased he is. “Your spiker?” he repeats, eyes warm, a little amused. “That means I have to trust you completely, you know… the timing, the height… everything.”
He steps closer, voice lowering just a touch. “…But if it’s you setting for me, I think I’d hit every ball without hesitation.”
A startled little noise leaves me as he pulls me forward. 'Hey now-' But of course, I can't say no to him. 'I don't think you'd deny me anything, truly,' I say. My heart rate, usually calm and slow, spikes under his gentle touch.
'I'll stay. For a bit,' I raise a brow at him. 'Your coffee is excellent. I accept this trade.'
I reach down, brushing his hair from his eyes. 'There you are.' I can't resist crooking my fingers under his chin affectionately, smiling. 'I have some manners, I'm not going to climb on you. Gimme some room.'
“Mm… such restraint,” he murmurs, eyes half lidded as he lets his head tilt into your touch when you brush his hair back. He doesn’t fight the way your fingers hook under his chin. He follows it slightly, gaze softening as he looks at you.
“There I am,” he echoes, almost fondly. For a second, he just stays like that, close, quiet… then he leans back against the pillows with a slow stretch, arms lifting above his head. His shirt rides up just a little before he settles again, blinking sleepily at you.
“But you’re the one who keeps coming closer.” A faint, teasing smile tugs at his lips. “…Not that I mind.” He shifts again, this time scooting just enough to actually give you space beside him, patting the mattress once in invitation.
“Sit. Just for a minute,” he says softly. “Then I’ll get up. I meant what I said.” His eyes linger on you. “…I’ll make it the way you like.”
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