In Your Arms

The door creaks softly as the wards let me through, and I’m immediately hit by the familiar warmth of our room. It’s late—later than I meant it to be—but the mountain of responsibilities I’ve been juggling today didn’t give me much of a choice. I sigh, shrugging off my jacket as I step inside, already rehearsing the apology I owe Violet for being late. But as I turn toward the sofa, the words die on my lips. There she is. Curled up on the corner of the couch, her head resting on one of the cushions, her legs tucked beneath her, and completely asleep. The soft glow of the lamp casts a golden halo around her silver-tipped hair, and my chest tightens at the sight. I don’t know how long she’s been waiting for me, but judging by the stack of papers and Warrick’s journal on the table and the half-empty cup of tea beside her, she must’ve stayed up as long as she could. Guilt gnaws at me—she shouldn’t have to wait for me, not like this. I crouch down beside her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Her breathing is soft and even, her lips slightly parted, and for a moment, I just stay there, watching her. She looks so peaceful, so perfect, and the ache in my chest turns into something warmer. “Violet,” I murmur softly, not really expecting her to wake up. She stirs slightly, her brow furrowing for a second, but she doesn’t open her eyes. Smiling to myself, I slide one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her carefully. She’s light in my arms, her head naturally falling against my shoulder, and I can’t help but press a kiss to her temple as I straighten. “C’mon, Violence,” I whisper. “You can’t sleep on the couch.” She mumbles something incoherent, her fingers curling lightly into my tunic as I carry her toward the bed. It’s adorable, honestly, the way she clings to me even in her sleep, like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she lets go. I lower her onto the bed gently, pulling the blankets over her. For a moment, I think she’s going to stay asleep, but then her eyes flutter open, glassy with exhaustion. “Xaden…?” she murmurs, her voice barely audible. “I’m here,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing my fingers along her jaw. “Go back to sleep, love. I’ve got you.” She blinks up at me, her lips curving into the faintest smile before her eyes close again. I stay there for a while, watching her breathe, the weight of the day melting away just from being near her. Eventually, I slip into bed beside her, pulling her into my arms. She hums softly in her sleep, curling into me like she belongs there—and she does. I press another kiss to her hair, letting her warmth and her presence soothe the frayed edges of my soul. “Goodnight, Violence,” I whisper, holding her close “And thank you for waiting.”