Work Text:
Calanthe turns down the covers and pats the space to her left on the mattress, an obvious invitation. “Come here.”
“I’m really not in the mood tonight, darling,” he says apologetically.
“No sex,” she promises. “Just… come here.”
“I—” the protest dies on his lips when he sees the meaningful look she gives him.
“Please.”
Eist relents. Slips into bed beside her. He watches curiously as Calanthe carefully arranges the comforter around him, making sure he’s properly tucked in with plenty of extra blanket to his left and his toes fully covered.
This must be her caring side, he realizes with a rush of warm affection. The soft, loving side that he’s only seen glimpses of so far. This must be her, more open with her softness than she ever has been with him. The warmth that spreads through his chest at the thought might be enough to keep him warm through the whole night, he thinks, even if Calanthe ends up with all the covers again.
Once she’s satisfied with the state of the comforter, Calanthe reaches over to turn off the lamp on her nightstand, then shifts around a bit until she finally settles between his arm and his body, curling into his side with her head resting on his chest, her arm draped over his stomach, one of her legs half on top of his. She’s overly cautious in a way he’s never seen her before when she positions herself, taking extra care not to touch him anywhere too intimate, keeping true to her word—no sex.
“Is this alright?” she asks quietly.
“More than,” he exhales.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes.” His left hand settles on the arm she has draped across his body, thumb rubbing circles on her skin.
“Can you sleep like this?”
He answers with a warm, contented hum, his body already sinking into the mattress, eyelids already beginning to drop.
“Good night, Eist.” She presses a chaste kiss to his shoulder, shifting her head a bit more than necessary to do so—she takes care to find a less sensitive spot, farther away from his neck, one of the places slightly less intimately familiar with her lips, another small reassurance of what he’s already sure of, that she’s keeping her promise. “Sleep well.”
“Sleep well, my love.”
Eist closes his eyes, intending to fall asleep, but a few moments later, he can’t help but chuckle quietly to himself.
“What?” asks Calanthe, sensing the way his body shakes with silent laughter. With her head laying on his chest, he can not only hear but feel how her tone curls with amusement; he can feel how the muscles in her cheek shift slightly like they do when she smiles, can feel how she nuzzles into him with the movement as if even in the dark, she’s trying to hide her smile in the fabric of his shirt. It only adds to the glowing flutter of happiness in his heart.
He squeezes his right arm more tightly around her, moves his left so his hand is at the back of her head, gently stroking her hair, and she absolutely curls into his touch. It’s the most adorable thing ever, and he can’t resist the chance to tease her a bit.
“You know,” he says, letting all the warm, soft adoration he feels for her bleed through into his tone, “if you wanted cuddles, you could have just asked.”
For a moment, he wonders if he’s gone too far, teasing her about seeking out physical affection, even if he means what he said with every fiber of his being (and loves her just as much).
“Hm,” she responds simply, as if he’s just offered her an interesting factoid she hasn’t heard before and her fascinating mind needs a moment to fully process the implications.
Eventually, she mutters, “You know, if you wanted cuddles… you only had to ask.”
Eist laughs properly at that, and he feels her smiling again against his chest; his fingers curl affectionately into her hair and his arms pull her closer, and she presses further into him eagerly.
It takes them a while to finally drift off to sleep after they both settle down, but the silence is comfortable, and the bed is warm.