“Vin—”
“Just do it. I’ve got you.”
With those three words alone, my whole body relaxes as I melt into him. I close my eyes and let myself have this moment and pretend thatI’ve got youmeans more than until the war is over. Or until he finds a suitable wife or gets bored or remembers that I’m nothing more than a safe house and a warm body.
His fingers thread through my hair, and he presses his lips to the top of my head.
“Rest,regina,” he whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”
A tear slips free before I can stop it, soaking into his shirt. He doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does. Either way, he holds me until the sun sets and the room fills with shadows.
39
Vin
Something’s wrong with her. Not physically, I checked. But Sophie’s curled up on this shitty couch with me like she’s trying to disappear, staring at nothing. It’s fucking scary.
Sophie’s always happy and busy. She doesn’t donothing. She cooks, she cleans, she hums under her breath while she works. She fills space with light the way other people fill it with noise.
But right now? Her light is all the way the fuck out, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.
“Hey.” I squeeze her tighter, laying behind her on the couch, tipping her chin up to make her look at me over her shoulder. “What’s going on?”
She blinks slowly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Bullshit. This isn’t fine, Sophia.”
I scoop her up before I can overthink it. She weighs nothing in my arms, soft and warm and boneless, and she immediately tucks her face into my neck with a small sigh.
“Do you want to go to bed?” I’m trying to be nice to her, but it’s not my normal so I don’t know if it’s coming out that way. “And I’m not talking about fucking you. Do you need to sleep?”
She doesn’t answer, just nuzzles deeper into my neck, her breath warm against my throat.
Fuck.
I understand exactly what she needs without her saying a word.
I carry her to the bedroom, settling on the bed with my back against the headboard and Sophie curled in my lap like a cat. I stroke her hair with one hand, slide the other under her shirt so I can have skin to skin contact on her back.
“You’ve been such a good girl,” I murmur, the words coming easy. “Following directions so well. Making me so fucking proud of you.”
Her breathing deepens, some of the tension draining from her body. My thumb traces her ear down the curve of her jaw back up into her hair over and over. After awhile, I can’t tell if I’m doing it to soothe her or to soothe me.
We sit like that for maybe 20 minutes before she stirs, lifting her head to glance at the clock on the nightstand. Immediately, she starts to shift out of my arms.
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“To make you dinner.” She gestures at the clock. “It’s almost 7 o’clock.”
“Your ass isn’t doing shit. Get back in bed and stay there until I tell you to get up.”
She freezes, uncertainty flickering across her face. “But you like your dinner at 7pm.”
“Are you arguing with me, Sophia?”
She deflates, her gaze dropping to the floor, and I realize I pushed too hard. She’s not defiant right now. She’s defeated.
Fuck.
