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"Darling?" she asks almost silently once she's opened the door. She’ll kick herself for calling him that later, especially because for the moment she knows she shouldn’t have.
It’s not a surprise that it was him, that he’s the source of the frantic knocking on her bedroom door, loud enough to wake her, even if the truth is that sleep eluded her. It’s not even an hour before dawn as well, who else would be at her door at such an hour.
She’s glad she was alert enough to remember to put on a robe, as short as it is, opening the door naked would not be proper, especially when she’s not sure what they are or aren’t now. Too hurt from their fight and the gloom they’ve both been carrying around the castle during the days since to figure that out.
Leaning against the door frame is Percy dressed in his long johns and without his glasses, shaking. He’s a mess. Tears running down his face into his short scruff that he’s let grow out over the past few days, not caring enough to do anything about it.
He looks at her like he’s seen a ghost, maybe he has. He certainly has been avoiding her, at first because of the fight she thinks, then once he’d worked through the distress because he wasn’t ready to talk to her about any of it, which is something she can relate to, she’s not quite ready to talk everything out with him, not yet.
After starting to express himself with his hands, almost reaching out to her, and then letting his arms drop to his sides a moment later he says with difficulty, “I just needed to make sure you were breathing,” his own breath shaky, “good night Vex.” Once he gets that out he closes his eyes and begins to turn around to leave.
Stepping forward without hesitation taking his shoulder in her hand, he turns back to her, his eyes open as she reaches around him, bringing him closer as she feels her heart beat faster. She whispers once he's in her embrace, "Which nightmare was it?"
"The usual ones were mixed together," he admits, still shaking in her arms. He makes no move to hold her, she wishes he would. His hesitancy to touch her is not out of fear but of respect for her, for whatever has shifted between them. It’s not as big a chasm as he might think. Taking his hand she brings it up to her neck, his pointer and middle fingers lay on her pulse and she leans into his hand, she changes her breathing so she inhales and exhales deeply.
That makes him cry more if anything.
She wishes he’d woken up from this nightmare in her bed rather than down the hall in his own. For her, and she’s sure for him too, everything that happened between them four days ago has either been forgiven or learned from.
They still need to talk about it if they’re going to move past this together.
Softly shushing him she tries to move them into the room a bit, he stays put and looks down at her before finding something in her face that reassures him that he can follow. He closes the door once he’s inside. When they reach the bed they maneuver themselves onto it, his back to her front, an arm around his waist, his hand in hers. Her every breath running down his neck.
Every minute that passes with them like that the less he seems like a wounded animal and the more he returns to himself, actually relaxing into her. That being said, it’s well past dawn before he turns around to face her, still keeping a gentle hold on her hand.
He looks so much better than he had, there’s dried tears on his face but a softness in his eyes that reassures her that he’s not stuck in the nightmare any longer. In a very gentlemanly fashion, he kisses her hand right above the knuckles, his scruff tickling her skin just a little. He lets go of her, leans closer to kiss her forehead lightly and says, “I need to go now.” He says it with conviction and like he’s resigned himself to it.
“You could stay, Percival,” she suggests softly, the offer true and genuine.
He just shakes his head slowly and says, “No, I shouldn’t.”
While she does believe that he thinks he should go, so far he’s made no move to actually leave. He leans into her touch when she puts a hand on his cheek, they both seem to want the contact. “I want you to be here,” she whispers into the space between them.
Taking her hand off his cheek, he lays down on his back and looks up at the ceiling, “If I stay…” he starts to say but then stops, turns and looks into her eyes as he begins again, “Vex, I need you to be sure. I don’t wish to ever do this again,” there is a rawness in his voice that catches her off guard.
They’re of the same mind about this she can tell, he’s meeting her right where she is.
This week has shown both of them so clearly that they have things to work on, both separate from each other and together as a couple. She truly believes it will be better for them to do that together rather than apart, they'll need the support they get from each other.
“We shouldn’t be without each other, Percy,” she says sincerely.
Then while moving to lay on top of him she says calmly, “I would like you to stay with me.” She's more than aware that both her words and her movement will keep him right where he is.
He seems to have moved past his hesitation to really touch her, wrapping his arms around her, his hands holding onto the sash around her waist that ties closed the robe she still wears, he asks, “With you?” so hesitantly, like he doesn't want to get his hopes up.
She’s just as relieved as he is when she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek for a moment then gets a little bit closer, smiles down at him, running a hand through his hair as she agrees with him, saying, “Yes love, with me,” and shyly asking, “is that alright?”
“Yes, my dearest, of course,” he says nodding a little before moving just enough to kiss her. She meets him halfway and they melt and relax into each other, just enjoying this for what it is.
It’s not until she has to breathe that they part, she yawns just a little bit right afterward so close to his face. She can feel the giggles in him, they were almost audible. He grins at her before he says, “Let's sleep and talk more about this after that.” He has such good ideas. She can't help but agree.