Reina's eyes slowly opened as she drifted out of the nightmare.
For a few seconds, she didn't understand where she was.
Warmth.
Close.
Steady.
Then her gaze lifted.
And froze.
A man's chest filled her view—broad, firm, unmistakably real beneath the slightly loosened nightrobe.
Reina blinked once.
Then again.
"…Huh?"
Her thoughts stalled completely.
Why is this… so close…?
Before she could process further, a low voice sounded above her head—calm, gentle, unmistakably awake.
"My dear. Did you have a bad dream?"
The moment she heard it, something inside her cracked.
"Umm… h-huu…" Her voice trembled instantly.
And then the tears came.
"I… I was stupid…" she choked out, clutching lightly at his robe without realizing. "I'm useless… If I hadn't been careless… my grandmother wouldn't have died… my aunt wouldn't be in the hospital… It's all my fault… everything…"
The words spilled out like something she had carried alone for too long.
Rui Griffin's body went still.
Not cold.
But alert.
Like something inside him had shifted completely.
"Reina," he said softly.
But she didn't hear him properly.
The guilt had already swallowed her again.
Then, suddenly—
His arms loosened.
Just slightly.
Enough for her body to tilt—
"Ah—!"
Reina's breath caught as she started to fall—
—but before fear could take hold, strong arms pulled her back instantly.
This time, there was no hesitation.
Rui Griffin caught her fully, drawing her into his chest with steady control, anchoring her against him as if the world had no right to pull her away.
Reina froze.
For a moment, she didn't move at all.
Just… listened.
His heartbeat.
Strong. Calm. Real.
"…Where am I…" she whispered weakly, still shaken.
"In my arms," he replied quietly.
No teasing this time.
No playful tone.
Just certainty.
Safe. Unmoving.
Reina's fingers trembled against his chest as her breathing remained uneven.
"I dreamed…" she murmured. "I was falling…"
"I know," he said gently.
A pause.
Then, softer—
"It was just a nightmare."
Her lashes lowered slightly.
But the pain in her expression didn't fade.
Instead, it deepened.
"…You were calling them," he said after a moment. "Your grandmother. Your aunt."
At that, her composure broke again.
"My grandmother…" Reina's voice turned small. "She raised me… after my parents were gone…"
Her breath shook.
"She was everything to me…"
"And my aunt…" she swallowed hard. "She always protected me… like a mother…"
Her fingers tightened against his robe.
"I ruined everything…"
Her voice collapsed into a whisper.
"I wasn't strong enough…"
Silence filled the room.
But it wasn't empty.
It was listening.
Rui Griffin lowered his head slightly.
And when he spoke, his voice was quieter than ever.
"Reina."
Just her name.
Soft. Grounded. Intentional.
Her trembling paused.
"You don't have to carry all of this alone anymore," he said.
His hand moved slowly across her back—steady, warm, protective—like he was teaching her body how to breathe again.
"I'm here," he added simply. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Her breath hitched.
"I should've protected them…" she whispered again.
Rui Griffin tightened his hold slightly—not enough to trap her, but enough to remind her she wasn't falling anymore.
"No," he said firmly, but gently. "You were a child placed in a storm that wasn't yours to survive."
Reina froze at that.
His thumb brushed lightly against her shoulder, grounding her.
"Listen to me," he said lower. "You are not the reason they suffered."
A pause.
"And you are not alone in this anymore."
Her lips trembled.
"…Don't leave me," she whispered suddenly, almost helplessly.
The words were small.
Fragile.
Real.
Rui Griffin didn't hesitate.
"I won't," he said.
No conditions.
No distance.
Just certainty.
"I've got you."
Something inside Reina finally loosened.
The tears didn't stop immediately—but they changed.
Less sharp.
Less breaking.
More releasing.
Rui Griffin didn't rush her.
He simply held her closer, letting her cry into the safety of his arms, as if time itself had been told to wait.
After a while, her breathing began to slow.
Her grip softened slightly.
Only then did she realize how tightly she had been holding him.
And how warm he was.
How steady.
How… close.
Her ears turned faintly red.
"…I'm sorry," she murmured, noticing his nightrobe dampened slightly where she had cried. "I made a mess…"
"It's fine," he replied immediately.
His voice softened again.
"Are you feeling better now?"
Reina hesitated.
Then gave a small nod.
"…Yes. A little."
That "a little" seemed to be enough for him.
Rui Griffin exhaled quietly, as if relieved.
"Good," he said.
Then he gently loosened his hold—but only slightly, enough for her to breathe easier, not enough to make her feel alone.
"I'll get you some water," he added.
Before she could answer, he was already standing.
Reina blinked.
"…Wait," she called softly without thinking.
He paused.
Her fingers instinctively caught the edge of his sleeve.
"…Don't go too far."
The words came out quieter than she intended.
Rui Griffin looked at her.
For a moment, something warm flickered in his expression.
Then he gently covered her hand with his.
"I'm not going far," he said.
A pause.
"I'll be right back."
When he returned, he handed her a glass.
Reina took it carefully, sipping slowly.
Sweet.
Warm.
Soft honey blended into the water.
"…You added honey?" she asked quietly.
"Mm," he answered.
So simple.
So natural.
As if he had already learned what she needed without being told.
Reina looked at him for a moment longer than she meant to.
Then lowered her gaze.
"…Thank you."
"You don't have to thank me," he said softly.
But he didn't look away.
And for the first time that night, there was no teasing between them.
Only something quieter.
Stronger.
More careful.
He took the glass from her when she finished and set it aside.
"Sleep now," he said gently.
Reina hesitated.
Then, slowly, she reached out and held onto his sleeve again—just a little.
"…Stay," she murmured.
Rui Griffin paused.
Then his expression softened completely.
"I'm here," he said.
And when he lay back down beside her, pulling her gently into his arms again—
Reina didn't fight it.
She only closed her eyes.
And this time…
she slept without falling.