The office was silent, save for the faint rustling of papers and the occasional tapping of my fingers on the desk. The sun had begun to set outside the massive windows, casting long shadows across the room, but I didn't notice. My mind was consumed with reports, figures, plans, and decisions that felt heavy enough to crush me under their weight. Each document I sifted through only served as a reminder that this was real. That I wasn't playing a game anymore. This was power, and it had a price.
I didn't notice him at first. Nine was always so quiet, his presence subtle in a way that made it easy for him to slip into a room unnoticed.
But then I felt it—the light brush of his steps across the floor, the soft padding of his feet against the polished wood. And before I could even register what was happening, Nine was there, his body moving fluidly, as if he knew exactly where to go.
Without a word, he climbed into my lap.
I blinked, momentarily stunned. I'd been so consumed by the weight of the papers in front of me that I hadn't seen him coming. But I didn't push him away, didn't tell him to move. I let him settle there, his weight grounding me in a way I didn't realize I needed.
His head found its place against my chest, and within moments, his breathing had evened out, slow and steady. He didn't ask for permission, didn't need to. It was like he'd just decided that this was where he belonged. And in that moment, I couldn't find it in myself to disagree.
I ran my fingers through his hair absently as I looked down at the papers again. His warmth seeped into my body, calming the tension that had been building in my muscles all day. The documents blurred, their contents fading into the background as I let myself focus on the feeling of Nine nestled against me.
It wasn't like I could forget what I had to do. I still had plans to put into motion, decisions to make. But for now, all of that seemed to recede into the distance. It was hard to think of much else when Nine was so close, so vulnerable in his trust. His breathing was soft, almost imperceptible against my neck, and I couldn't help but marvel at how far he had come. From the quiet, broken creature he had been, to the almost peaceful, content one in my arms now. His growth, his progress—it was something I was learning to cherish more and more with each passing day.
I didn't know how long we stayed like that. Minutes? Hours? Time seemed to blur the longer I sat there with him, letting him simply be. There was a quiet peace in the space we shared, one that had become a comfort to me. It was strange, in a way. I had always thought of power as something cold, something isolating. But here, with Nine curled up in my lap, it was warm. It was safe. And I felt something shift inside me—an understanding, or maybe just a recognition of the fact that this wasn't just about control or dominance. This was about something deeper. Something that no amount of power or position could take away.
The faintest tremor of a memory flickered in the back of my mind—how, in the beginning, I had been so unsure of everything. Of myself, of Nine, of what I wanted. But now? I knew. I knew exactly what I wanted. And it wasn't just to rule. It was to protect what was mine. And Nine... Nine was mine. Not because I owned him, not because I controlled him. But because we had built something together. Something unspoken, something we both understood in a way that felt so natural now.
His body shifted slightly in my lap, the soft rise and fall of his chest against mine a steady rhythm. I couldn't bring myself to disturb him, not even to finish the work that awaited me. He needed this peace. We both did.
And as I sat there, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw, I realized that this moment—this quiet, tender moment—was worth more than any of the power I had fought for. It was worth more than all the bloodshed, all the decisions, all the plans. This was the one thing I would hold onto.
I leaned my head back, closing my eyes for just a moment, allowing myself to drift into the quiet.
But just as I started to relax completely, I felt Nine shift again, this time with a faint hum of discomfort. His hands pressed against my chest, his brow furrowed as if he was unsure whether to stay or move.
"Stay," I whispered, my voice soft but firm. I didn't want him to leave. Not now. Not when everything was so... peaceful. He hesitated for a moment, as though caught between two instincts: the desire to obey and the urge to hold onto whatever comfort he could find in this fleeting moment.
He stayed.
Minutes passed. The weight of his body on my lap was grounding, and as much as I wanted to continue working, my attention remained entirely on him. The delicate flutter of his lashes against his cheeks, the soft expulsion of air from his nose as he exhaled.
Finally, when I could feel my body loosening its tension, when I felt like I could almost let go of everything, Nine stirred again, his voice barely a whisper.
"I don't want to leave."
My heart clenched at the words. He didn't have to say that. I already knew. But hearing him say it, hearing the raw honesty in his voice, made something inside me ache.
"You don't have to," I replied, my fingers moving over his hair once more. I couldn't give him everything, not yet. But I could give him this. I could give him this time, this peace. I could give him this moment to simply be.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the weight of everything I had to carry. I didn't feel the pressure of the crown, of the power I now wielded. I simply felt... connected. Connected to Nine. Connected to something bigger than me.
For now, that was enough.