Marvis's POV
It was nearly 2 a.m., and I still hadn't closed my eyes.
I had tried. God knows I had laid on that bed long enough, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence of the penthouse. But even the silence wasn't enough to quiet the thoughts running wild in my head.
She was out there. On the couch. Curled up under a blanket. Still in pain.
I could hear her breathing from here. Soft and slow. But I knew better than to assume that meant she was comfortable. I'd watched her wince earlier, pressing that water bottle closer to her stomach like it was the only thing keeping her from breaking.
I should have made her sleep in my bed. The thought had nagged me for hours.
The couch wasn't enough. Not when she was already tired, weak, and clearly pretending she didn't need help.
I threw the covers off and sat up.
Something in me refused to let her suffer a minute longer.
By the time I reached the living room, she was still fast asleep. Her arm dangled off the edge of the couch, and the blanket had slipped to the floor. Her brows were slightly furrowed in her sleep. She looked... fragile. A word I'd never used for her before.
I knelt beside her and hesitated for a moment.
Would she hate this? Would she push me away?
I didn't care. Not tonight.
Carefully, I slid one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. She stirred a little but didn't wake up. Her head tilted toward my chest as I lifted her. She was so light. Too light. Had she been eating properly?
I carried her through the hallway slowly. Her head rested against my shoulder, her hand brushing lightly against my shirt.
My bedroom was dim, lit only by the soft lamp I'd left on earlier.
I lowered her gently onto the bed and tucked the blanket around her. She frowned again, curling into herself. The hot water bottle had fallen during the move. I picked it up and placed it back against her stomach. She let out a small sigh in her sleep.
That sound settled something in me.
I sat beside the bed, watching her chest rise and fall. Her breathing had evened out again.
She looked peaceful.
No, more than that…safe.
I leaned back in the chair and exhaled slowly.
This wasn't love. I didn't want to use that word. Not yet. Not when everything between us was still this fragile.
But I couldn't lie to myself.
I cared about her in a way I hadn't expected.
Too much.
She stirred again and turned slightly, facing my side of the bed. Her hand reached out instinctively, searching the empty space.
I hesitated.
Then slowly, carefully, I slipped under the covers beside her.
I didn't touch her. I didn't say a word. I just lay there, quiet, letting the warmth of her presence fill the space between us.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
And for the first time that night, I closed my eyes.
Not because I wasn't worried anymore.
But because she was here. And for now, that was enough.
Too much.
She stirred again and turned slightly, facing my side of the bed. Her hand reached out instinctively, searching the empty space.
I hesitated.
Then slowly, carefully, I slipped under the covers beside her.
I didn't touch her. I didn't say a word. I just lay there, quiet, letting the warmth of her presence fill the space between us.
Minutes passed. Maybe hours.
And for the first time that night, I closed my eyes.
Not because I wasn't worried anymore.
But because she was here.
And for now, that was enough.