Brugmansia

I was brushing out my hair, the moonlight spilling softly through the curtains of my room, when a knock at the door startled me. I turned, half expecting it to be Alohi with some late-night gossip, but when I opened it, my breath caught.

Xenos stood there, shirtless, holding a pillow under one arm and a blanket draped over the other. His hair was slightly tousled, and the cool light of the hall only emphasized the sharp angles of his face.

"What are you doing?" I asked, blinking at him in confusion.

He looked me straight in the eye, his expression unreadable but his tone firm. "I'm sleeping in here from now on."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"Cynfael's orders," he added quickly, though there was an edge of something else in his voice. "Mortis is after you. I'm not taking any chances."

I stepped aside to let him in, my mind racing. He crossed the room, setting his pillow and blanket on the armchair by the window, as though he'd already made up his mind.

"You don't have to sleep in here," I said, closing the door behind him. "I'll be fine. Aurora is always around—"

"And what if she isn't?" he interrupted, turning to face me. His gaze was intense, his shoulders tense. "This isn't up for debate, Sage. I'm not leaving you unguarded."

I swallowed hard, his words sending a strange warmth through me. "Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms. "But the armchair's yours. Don't even think about taking the bed."

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it."

As I climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, I watched as he settled into the chair, draping the blanket over himself. It felt strange having him there, his presence so close and yet so distant.

"Goodnight, Sage," he said softly, leaning his head back against the cushion.

"Goodnight, Xenos," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

And as the room fell into silence, I couldn't help but feel an odd mix of comfort and unease. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe—but at what cost?

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours, the mattress beneath me suddenly too soft, too empty. Every time I glanced over, Xenos was still in the armchair, his long legs stretched out awkwardly, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle.

It wasn't just guilt gnawing at me—it was something else, something warmer, something harder to admit.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Xenos," I whispered, my voice cutting through the quiet.

He stirred, lifting his head. "What?"

"Come sleep on the bed," I said, sitting up and hugging my knees to my chest. "You look like you're in pain over there."

He raised a brow, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and suspicion. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," I insisted, crossing my arms. "You're going to wake up with a stiff neck and complain about it the entire day. Just… just get on the bed. It's big enough. Just don't come close to me."

For a moment, he didn't move, his dark eyes studying me like he was trying to figure out if I was serious. Then, with a sigh, he unfolded himself from the chair, grabbing his pillow and blanket.

"You sure about this?" he asked, standing at the edge of the bed like he might scare me off.

"Yes, I'm sure," I muttered, sliding to one side to make space. "Just don't make it weird."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He settled on the opposite side of the bed, laying his pillow down and draping the blanket over himself. True to his word, he stayed as far away as possible, his back to me as he settled in.

The bed dipped slightly under his weight, and I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me, his presence both grounding and terrifying.

"Goodnight," he murmured, his voice softer now, less guarded.

"Goodnight," I whispered back, my heart thudding in my chest.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his steady breathing filling the room, and for the first time that night, I felt like I might actually fall asleep.

I was pulled from sleep by the sound of chaos. At first, I thought I was dreaming—muffled voices and sharp, screeching noises that didn't make sense.

Then I heard Aurora's unmistakable voice.

"Give it back, you mangy bookworm!"

"I found it first, you oversized feather duster!" Sceal's retort was just as sharp, his tone dripping with smugness.

I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes. Across the bed, Xenos was already awake, sitting upright with a scowl that could rival a thunderstorm.

"What in the name of sanity is going on?" he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

The racket grew louder, a crash echoing from the other side of the door. I scrambled out of bed, throwing on a robe before wrenching the door open.

Aurora and Sceal were in the hallway, locked in a heated tug-of-war over what appeared to be a shiny silver quill. Feathers were flying—literally—and Sceal's tail flicked in irritation as he held on for dear life.

"You don't even write! What do you need a quill for?" Aurora squawked, pulling harder.

"And you don't even read! This is clearly mine!" Sceal hissed back.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, already regretting getting up. "Stop it, both of you!"

They froze mid-tug, turning to look at me with matching guilty expressions. Aurora's feathers were ruffled, and Sceal looked like he'd just walked through a windstorm.

Xenos appeared behind me, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his towering presence enough to make both Aurora and Sceal shrink back. "What," he said in a low, dangerous tone, "is the meaning of this?"

Aurora puffed out her chest. "This little thief tried to take my quill!"

"It's not your quill! It was on the bookshelf!" Sceal snapped, his grip tightening.

"Enough!" I snapped, stepping between them and grabbing the quill from their hands. "This stupid thing isn't worth waking the whole tavern over!"

Aurora and Sceal exchanged glares before both huffed and turned away from each other.

Xenos leaned down, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Glad to see we're surrounded by such mature individuals."

Aurora squawked indignantly, while Sceal simply flicked his tail and sauntered off, muttering something about "uncultured fairies."

I sighed, holding up the quill. "Now, who does this actually belong to?"

Neither of them answered, and I realized I was going to have to deal with this nonsense after breakfast.

"Great," I muttered, tossing the quill onto a nearby table. "I'm confiscating it. If either of you starts fighting again, you're on dish duty for a month."

Aurora and Sceal both groaned but didn't argue further.

Xenos smirked behind me, his amusement evident. "You'd make a great drill sergeant."

"Don't start," I muttered, heading toward the kitchen. "I need coffee before I deal with anything else."

After the chaos of the morning, the kitchen became a hub of quiet activity. Alohi sauntered in, her hair still slightly tousled but her energy annoyingly intact for someone who had likely stayed up way too late.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped, tying an apron around her waist and grabbing a bowl to help with the eggs.

"You seem... chipper," I said, glancing at her warily as I stirred a pot of porridge.

"Had a dream about Cynfael," she said with a sly grin. "That always perks me up."

I rolled my eyes, muttering something about how unhinged she was, but her energy was strangely infectious. Together, we managed to put together a decent breakfast spread—fluffy eggs, golden toast, fresh fruit, and porridge. Xenos came down just as we were setting the table, looking surprisingly well-rested for someone who had slept in a chair the night before.

Breakfast was a peaceful affair, the four of us sitting around the table like a strange little family. Alohi, as usual, dominated the conversation with stories from her escapades at work, while Xenos occasionally threw in a dry comment that made Aurora squawk with laughter.

After breakfast, I decided to check in with Xenos. With all the tension that had been in the air lately, I needed to know what was planned for the day. His office door was partially open, and I could see him leaning over his desk, scribbling something furiously. Typical Xenos, always lost in work.

I knocked softly and stepped inside without waiting for a response. "What's the plan for today?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

Xenos glanced up, his expression softening when he saw me. "The plan?" he repeated, setting his pen down and straightening.

"Yes, you know, the usual drill," I teased lightly, leaning against the edge of the desk. "Combat training, magic practice, or maybe some adventure you haven't told me about?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he stood up, his piercing eyes locking onto mine as he walked around the desk. Before I could say anything else, he was standing in front of me.

"You need to rest today," he said, his voice low and steady.

I frowned, confused. "Rest? But—"

Before I could finish, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a firm, warm embrace. My breath hitched, and for a moment, all I could do was stand there, caught off guard by the sudden closeness.

"You've been pushing yourself too hard," he murmured, his voice near my ear. "You've done more than enough, Sage. Let me take care of things today."

My heart raced as I felt the weight of his words sink in. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around him, leaning into the comfort of his embrace.

"Xenos..." I whispered, unsure of what to say.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. There was something in his gaze—something raw and unspoken that made my stomach flip.

"You don't have to carry everything on your shoulders," he said softly. "Not when I'm here."

The intensity of his words, of his presence, was too much to ignore. I tilted my head up slightly, and before I could second-guess myself, his lips were on mine.

The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, filled with all the emotions we'd both been holding back. His hands moved to cup my face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he never wanted to let me go.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I stared at him, my cheeks flushed. "Does this mean... we're official now?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Yes, it does," he said, his tone firm yet tender.

I couldn't help the giddy laugh that escaped me. "Good," I said, leaning my forehead against his.

"Good," he echoed, his arms still around me as if he were afraid I'd disappear if he let go.

For the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt right. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I knew we'd face them together.