AN: Gang i PROMISE next fic will be nicer- i just haven't done angst in a while and who better to do it with than the vamps 🗣 this one's for the stress cleaners shout out to y'all i see you.
.
..
The broom bristled against the floorboards for the third time that hour. Dust pan, scrub cloth, folded laundry, dishes clinking in the basin — you didn’t stop moving, not even for a breath. The storm in your chest had nowhere to go, so you pressed it into the tiles, the counters, the endless list of tasks that didn’t need to be done twice but you did them anyway.
He had been watching. At first from the doorway, leaning with arms crossed and eyes narrowed in thought. Then closer, a step into the kitchen, silent enough that the candlelight didn’t flicker with his presence. He let you try to outrun your thoughts in circles, letting the pattern unfurl until the shadows under your eyes grew darker than his own.
“Little flame,” his voice came at last, smooth and low — a drop of night spilling into the quiet clatter.
You jumped, startled, then kept scrubbing the already-clean counter, jaw tight. “Just— it’s fine. I just need to—”
The rag stilled in his hand before you even realized he’d taken it from you. The vampire’s palm lingered over yours, cool and firm, coaxing your grip to release. “You’ve been on your feet since dawn.” His thumb brushed your knuckles, then tilted your chin up until his crimson eyes caught yours. They softened when he saw the exhaustion carved into your face. “You’ll collapse before the floors sparkle any brighter.”
You tried to protest — he saw it in the way your lips parted, the way your shoulders tensed — but the words withered under his gaze. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t mocking. Just… unbearably tender, as though he could see the ache you were trying so desperately to outrun.
“I don’t want to sit still,” you admitted, voice cracking smaller than you wanted. Shame crept in. “If I stop, I’ll just… think.”
A faint sound left him — not quite a sigh, not quite a hum, more like sorrow bending into affection. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against the chill of his chest. One hand curved over your back, the other threading carefully into your hair. “Then think with me, not against yourself,” he murmured into your temple. “Let me hold what you can’t. That’s what I’m here for.”
Your throat tightened, tears prickling hot against the corners of your eyes. Slowly, slowly, the rag dropped from your hand. His lips ghosted over your hairline, feather-light, and his fingers guided you toward the chair by the hearth.
When you sank down, he kneeled in front of you — an immortal king of the night on his knees for nothing more than your peace. He slid your shoes from aching feet, pressing cool kisses to each ankle as though to soothe away the miles you’d walked around the house.
“Stay,” he whispered, and though the word was soft, it carried a weight you couldn’t refuse. His cheek rested against your thigh, his arms around you like a vow. “No more running from shadows. Not when you have me.”
And when the fire crackled in the silence, you found, for once, you didn’t need to move. He had stilled the storm with nothing but his presence — and in that stillness, your heart finally eased.
me: i’m not gonna start creating a whole new pinterest board for my marauders AUs when my existent marauders boards combined already contain over 7000 posts…,, i’m just not
. . .
my pinterest:
blaming u two @greenvlvetcouch @crushofdoves for this
