Moonlight painted silver over Clara's pale skin and the edge of her bruised collarbone. About an hour had passed since she had laid her head down on the pillow. She was tucked under the covers, stiff as a statue, her head tilted toward the wall. Cyra was still seated in the chair beside the bed, his jacket draped over the back, watching her silently.
"You don't have to sleep here all night." She chimed into the darkness.
"Is that a protest or a statement?" Cyra asked quietly.
"I don't know, it... it doesn't feel appropriate."
"I'm not asking for appropriate. I'm asking for painless. You winced four times in the last hour. Something tells me it's not your injuries. It's your headache— it's back isn't it?" His voice was like velvet. In the moonlight he was a barley-visible silhouette.
She stayed quiet. Her fingers curled slightly into the blanket.
Cyra sighed. "Just let me hold your hand while you sleep. No funny business. I promise to be scandalously respectful." An eyebrow twitched.
"That's not a thing." Clara mumbled.
Cyra moved slow and deliberately — like approaching a skittish cat — and eased onto the mattress beside her. She didn't protest and even slide over to make room. His hand found hers under the blanket and clasped it carefully, like she might break. Her fingers felt cold and he wondered she might be anemic from the blood loss. He let go for less than a second to pull the cover up to her chin then relaxed into the soft mattress and slid his hands back into hers.
"I have great hand-holding etiquette you know. Top-tier Yelp reviews." Cyra was half-whispering and smirking.
"You talk a lot."
"Only when I'm nervous." Cyra half smiled.
"Why would you be nervous?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he brushed his thumb lightly over Clara's knuckles in slow, grounding circles. Her eyelids fluttered shut.The pressure behind her forehead already began to fade and keeping her eyes open started to feel like an impossible task.
"Sleep, darling. I'm not going anywhere."
His eyes remained open and fixed on Clara as she drifted to sleep. He felt an intense desire to protect her, and it rose in his chest.
—-The Next Morning
Warm light filtered through the balcony window. Clara was sitting upright in bed, her hair in a tangled halo around her face. She tapped methodically at a sleek black laptop. The all white covers were bunched around her waist, and Cyra was still asleep beside her, one of his arms were draped loosely over the pillow she was no longer using. His hand twitches once — "he's dreaming", Clara thought and smiled softly.
The glow of the screen warmly lit Clara's face, her eyes focused and sharp despite her injuries. A small pile of handwritten notes rested beside her, diagrams and equations scribbled across them.
Clara was mumbling noncoherent sentences. "Conductive interference… not voltage-based, but resonance... that's why the proximity matters."
Cyra groaned faintly, turning over to face Clara. "Who on earth gave you office supplies!?"
She didn't look up. "You snore", she said instead.
"Only when I'm emotionally fulfilled." Cyra answered, eyes still closed.
She rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile tugged the corner of her mouth. She tapped a few more keys before shutting the laptop triumphantly.
"I think I found a solution."
Cyra sat up slowly and pulled up his arms to a big stretch that showed just a bit of abs when he lifted them. "To the world's problems? Or just the one where I get to keep holding your hand every night?"
Clara watched his movements involuntarily until she forced herself to focus on his eyes. Those beautiful sleepy eyes. Stop.
"The second one. Maybe. But don't get too excited, you're not off the hook."
She slowly shifts her body so that she was facing him, being careful of her bandages. Her tone was all business, but her eyes are brighter than they've been in days.
"When we touched the moon gem, it essentially synchronized our electric signatures. But it's unstable in me — too much current, not enough conduit. That's why my brain short-circuits without you."
Cyra sat up a bit straighter from his lazy stance, paying attention harder now. "Wow. I always suspected I was a grounding force in your life."
Clara ignored him.
"I think if I can chip away a small piece off of the moon gem and wear it as a conduit — something close to my skin, it can temporarily replicate your energy signature. Like storing a battery pack.
"Aw a little Cyra crystal! Sounds adorable. Will it flirt with you too?" Messy hair covered his eyes and he shook it away.
"Only if it develops a superiority complex and was never told no as a child". Clara tossed a pillow that she had on her lap at Cyra weakly. "Pay attention."
"Hey, it's called depth, thank you very much." He caught it and set it down next to him.
Clara continued. "You'll still have to charge it once a day — about thirty minutes of contact should do it. But if I'm right, I can last longer without you physically near. Maybe even days."
"Days without me?" Cyra picked up her hand and kissed it. "What a cruel invention." He kissed it again, a bit higher at her wrist.
She pulled it away instantly. "Don't get dramatic. You'll still be the most annoying part of my life. Just from farther away."
He answered more seriously. "I adore watching over you and could do so forever but I am undeniably grateful that you have found a solution and will be, at least less, in pain. That's all I care about."
"That is, if it works. It's just a theory."
"I don't doubt you. I'll chip a piece of the moon gem today for you."
"Thank you Cyra."
Their eyes meet. Long enough that Clara finally broke away, fiddling with the edge of the blanket.
"And also, thank you for last night. For staying."
"Anytime, princess."
Her lips curled slightly then winced.
"Are you in pain?" Cyra was at her side in a second checking her injuries.
"You've gotten fast—" she noted, "— I think I hurt myself when I threw the pillow at you, I'm, I'm starting to feel a pain on my rib again." She grimaced.
He gently touched her side where the broken rip is. "I'll call for the doctor," he announced as he stood up.
"No, wait—" Clara grabbed his wrist and kept it in it's place. She closed her eyes.
"Clara."
"Shh— this is helping." She lifted her shirt to reveal a black, purple, blue and slightly green bruise all along her side. She placed Cyra's hand just in the center of it. A light glow formed from under her skin. She sighed softly. "That feels much better."
Cyra understood what was happening and slowly rubbed both hands up and down her bruised rib, barely touching her skin. She melted into his touch.
"Lay down darling" Cyra guided her head to the pillow. He kept his hand on her side. "— How do you feel now?"
"What did you do?"