Chapter Text
Xaden’s POV
The dim glow of the candlelight cast shadows that danced along the walls of our room, but my eyes were drawn only to her. Violet sat at the small dressing table, her reflection visible in the slightly tarnished mirror. She was frowning, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, as her hands tugged a comb through the silken strands of her hair.
I paused in the doorway, quietly shutting it behind me. She hadn’t noticed me yet, too focused on her task. Her hair, as mesmerising as it always was, shimmered in the low light, the silver ends catching the flicker of the candle. But her movements were sharp, impatient—she was tugging too hard, dragging the comb through the knots with more force than necessary.
Her soft huffs of frustration tugged at something inside me. I knew that look—the small furrow of her brow, the slight downturn of her lips. She was annoyed, and I couldn’t stand to see her treat something so beautiful with anything but care.
“Violet,” I said softly, stepping closer.
She startled slightly, her head turning toward me. The annoyance on her face eased for a moment, replaced by surprise, before she narrowed her eyes at me.
“What?” she asked, her tone defensive, though there was no heat behind it.
I crossed the room, stopping just behind her chair. My hands found the back of it, and I leaned down slightly, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was half-combed, the upper strands smooth and shining, but the lower half was still tangled, twisted in delicate chaos.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I said, keeping my voice low, calm. “Let me.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she turned in her seat to look at me directly. “You want to comb my hair?”
I shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “If it means you’ll stop yanking at it like it’s done something to offend you, yes.”
For a moment, she just looked at me, her lips parted slightly as if she wasn’t sure what to say. Then, with a sigh that was far more exasperated than necessary, she handed me the comb and muttered, “Fine. But I should warn you that you will want to quit as soon as it—”
“I won’t,” I interrupted, already taking the comb from her hands.
I settled behind her, her chair positioned between my legs as I stood. My fingers brushed over the strands of her hair as I gathered them carefully, letting the silken weight fall over my hands. The sensation was intoxicating—soft, smooth, and impossibly delicate.
I started at the ends, carefully working the comb through the tangles. I could feel her watching me in the mirror, her eyes soft with curiosity and something I couldn’t quite place.
“You’re obsessed with my hair,” she said after a moment, her voice teasing.
I didn’t deny it. “I am,” I replied, dragging the comb gently through another section. “But can you blame me?”
She huffed a soft laugh, leaning back slightly in her chair. “It’s just hair, Xaden.”
“It’s not just anything,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.
The truth was, her hair fascinated me. It was a part of her, a physical representation of her strength and beauty. The silver strands at the ends, a mark of the storms she’d survived, were a constant reminder of everything she’d endured and overcome. It was uniquely hers, and I loved it almost as much as I loved her.
My hands moved slowly, methodically, as I worked the comb through the knots. I was careful, patient, savoring every moment. When I finished one section, I ran my fingers through it to ensure it was smooth before moving on to the next.
She sighed softly, her body relaxing more with each pass of the comb. By the time I reached the roots, she was leaning into me, her head tilted slightly back as if to give me better access.
“You’re good at this,” she said, her voice quiet, almost drowsy.
“Good at loving you?” I asked, smiling as I met her gaze in the mirror.
Her lips curved into a small smile, and she didn’t answer, but the warmth in her eyes said enough.
I continued working, my fingers trailing along her scalp as I parted her hair, letting the comb glide through with ease. The room was silent except for the occasional crackle of the candle, and the intimacy of the moment wasn’t lost on me.
This wasn’t just about her hair. It was about her trusting me, letting me care for her in a way that was quiet but deeply personal. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it—being this close to her, touching her, making her feel safe and cherished.
When I finished, I set the comb down on the table and let my hands rest on her shoulders. She tilted her head back, looking up at me with a softness that made my chest ache.
“All done,” I said, my voice low.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes half-lidded.
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smelled like lavender and something uniquely Violet, and I closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself get lost in it.
“You’re too good at this,” she said, her voice teasing but quiet. “I might start making you do it all the time.”
I chuckled softly, my lips brushing against her hair. “I wouldn’t mind.”
She turned in her chair to face me, her arms wrapping around my waist as she pressed her cheek against my stomach. I rested my hands on her back, holding her close, and for a moment, we stayed like that—silent, content, and completely wrapped up in each other.
“I missed you today,” she said softly, her voice muffled against my shirt.
I kissed the top of her head again, my fingers running gently through her hair. “I’m here now,” I whispered. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at me, her eyes shining with something I couldn’t quite name. “Promise?”
“Always,” I said, my voice steady and sure.
Her lips curved into a small smile, and she rested her head against me again, her arms tightening around my waist.
“I love you Violence”
”I love you too Xaden”