Work Text:
<Noriaki> Hey, can I come over?
The message comes late in the evening, comm vibrating and creating a halo around its downturned face. The owner looks up, pushes aside the sketch they’d been working on, and flips it over.
Huh. A message from Nori? Now…?
Naaji should say no, since it was so late and dark outside, and with what had been going on in the Valley… but Nori wasn’t stupid. He knew better, he’d only come if he needed to. So there must be a good reason.
Besides, it’s not like they could say no, anyway. Since when would Nori let “no” stop him?
<Naaji> Sure, if you can make it here so late at night
<Noriaki> cool cool cool, be there soon
<Naaji> 👍
Naaji leans back and stretches, their brightly colored monarch wings fluttering behind them. He knows he only has about five minutes before Nori crashes through his window, better get things cleaned up before they get wrecked again.
He shuts his sketchbook and tucks it away in a drawer along with his pencil (yeah, him and Nori were close now, but they didn’t want him seeing all of those doodles just yet), pushes in his desk chair, and tosses some of his bed’s larger decorative pillows onto the floor in a heap by the window. Better landing pad for his friend.
Then, they sit on the edge of the bed, and they wait.
And wait some more.
And some more.
Naaji frowns and checks their comm. It had been eight minutes — Nori was usually here in four. Had something happened?
Just as he’s about to get up and call him, a quiet knock on the window frame startles him. Naaji opens his mouth to say his usual spiel about ‘haven’t you heard of knocking?!’, a friendly inside joke between the two of them by now, but— well. He had actually knocked this time.
That was… new.
“Nori! You made it! I was starting to get worried about you,” Naaji breathes, turning back to set their comm on the desk.
The Valley Prince chuckles quietly, and Naaji can hear him climbing through the window behind him. “Heh, yeah… I made it.”
“Seriously though, where were y—” Naaji cuts off, finally seeing the full state of their friend now that he’s in the room and no longer silhouetted by moonlight. “What happened to you—?!”
His hair is disheveled, his purple top askew, lavender wings a true avian’s nightmare. He didn’t look sick, but he certainly looked unwell. Naaji would think he’d been flying in a hurricane, if he wasn’t so dry.
“Oh! You know, flying in the wind, bit of a mess sometimes, huh?” Nori laughs, running a hand through his disastrous semi-bleached hair.
Naaji tilts their head to peek behind him. His bamboo wind chimes — a gift from Nori — hang motionless from their spot just outside the window.
“I see… you sure that’s all? You look like you’ve been in a phantom attack,” Naaji says teasingly, but then again, Nori really didn’t look great.
Nori shakes his head. “Nope! I’ve been sleeping great, actually,” he yawns. The dark circles under his eyes said otherwise. “Besides! It’s only a short flight, and I’m too fast for those night terrors anyway, hah!”
It’s true, it was a fairly short flight from Wind Chime Valley to Mesahra, especially if you were Kamiya Noriaki. He usually cut that time in half with his reckless “speed first, safety second” flying.
But tonight, he’d been late.
“Mhm. Still a bit of a risk though, since you have a chronic bad sleep schedule, anyway,” Naaji muses. They stand and step up to their friend, taking his hands in theirs and intertwining their pinkies — their own secret sign. “Why’d you wanna come over so late?”
Nori snorts, closing his eyes. “Wha-hat, is a prince not allowed to visit his friend whenever he pleases?!” When he opens them again, he’s met with a look of deep concern, and a healthy amount of suspicion. He blinks once, and quickly looks away.
“Look, I— I just missed you, okay? I wanted to see you again…” he mumbles.
Naaji hums. It had been a while since they’d last seen each other, that made sense. But he had a pretty strong feeling there was more to it than just that, given…
Well, given certain existing circumstances.
“Mhm, I missed you too... You want to sit down? You look like you might fall over.”
Nori huffs — “I wouldn’t fall over, I’m much too graceful for that!” — and promptly plops down onto the pile of pillows Naaji had made. Good, they were serving their purpose then.
Naaji follows him down, unlinking their pinkies but still holding one of his hands to squeeze. He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.
“Nori…” he starts, “you know you can talk to me, right? About anything?” Naaji shifts closer to him, using his free hand to gently comb through his friend’s tangled feathers. Nori shudders at the touch, but doesn’t make any move to stop him, so Naaji continues.
“I… I don’t want to talk about it…” he says, almost a whisper. The hand not clinging to Naaji’s finds its way into his dyed hair again, yanking at the darker roots. “I can’t… not yet…”
Naaji frowns. He sounded so… small. And scared. He hadn’t seen him this upset in a very long time; “Noriaki” and “upset” rarely went together.
“… you can go small, if you want to, Ki. You know I won’t judge.”
Sometimes, when Nori got exceptionally upset, he’d shrink down into a smaller animal for a while to cope. He’d told them it was because animal brain made it easier to deal with emotions, but Naaji also suspected he just liked being held.
Beside him, Nori laughs. It sounds forced. “Oh, no no, I’m fine! I’m juuust dandy, no need to be so small, not today, or tomorrow, or—”
He freezes as Naaji rests a hand on his back and gently starts to rub. “I— uhm…” he sniffs, pulling up his knees and curling in on himself. “I guess… just a little while, couldn’t hurt…?”
Naaji nods, wrapping an arm around him and shifting closer. “Take all the time you need.”
They’d seen Nori go small twice before. Once, when they were young, he’d shifted into a rabbit after he’d found out his favorite candied fruit stand had closed permanently. Nori had already been having a hard day, thus the attempt at a treat, but the outing hadn't exactly gone to plan. Naaji had panicked at first, thinking he’d vanished, until he saw the sad little ball of fluff on the ground. Lots of people had complimented him on his new exotic pet on the walk back home — Mesahran desert rabbits had very little fur, seeing one so fluffy was unusual, to say the least. Naaji had just smiled and waved. When they got back to Naaji’s bedroom, they’d coaxed him back to a human shape and made him explain what in the world that was all about.
The second time, they were older, and had gotten lost in the forest off to the side of their two kingdoms. A hoard of zombies had cornered them, and after fighting them back and helping them both escape to safety, Nori had collapsed and a tiny mouse was left in his place. The perfect size for curling up safely in Naaji’s hands to rest.
This time, it looked like he’d chosen a cat. Or, maybe chosen was the wrong word, but he was a cat nonetheless.
As he leaned into Naaji’s side and shrunk down, dark fur spread across his body, wings melting away and round panda ears sharpening to points. Naaji silently turned so his back was completely away from Nori. There had been a few incidents in the past involving delicate wings and clumsy kitten claws that he’d rather not repeat.
This cat form was different from his usual forms, though. Nori’s shapeshifting was never really consistent to begin with — he’d have yellow feathered wings one day and blue beetle wings the next — but when it came to cats he usually stuck with orange or a light sandy blond. Orange was usually a sign of trouble; meant he was in a mischievous mood and they were in for a fun afternoon.
But this time, his fur was so dark, it was almost black. Was he just in a more subdued mood? It was almost as if he was mourning—
… Oh.
The cat at his side mrrrows, stretching out his back and paws, and the edge of Naaji’s mouth lifts, just a little. He liked cats, they were so funny to watch.
Carefully, they reach underneath Nori’s stomach and scoop him up, setting him down again in their lap. The cat yowls quietly in protest, but promptly calms down and starts purring when Naaji’s fingers find their way into a gentle rhythmic motion behind his ears.
Kitty Nori yawns, front paws wrapping around Naaji’s other arm, hugging it tight to his little body. Like he was saying “don’t leave please,” or “it’s been too long, stay with me,” or “I missed you.”
They’d missed him too.
Naaji really hadn’t seen him for a while, had he? It had been over a week, it felt like, since they’d last called. And over a month since they had seen each other in person. That wasn’t really Nori’s fault, though — it wasn’t his fault that there was a plague in Wind Chime Valley.
Devs above, how long HAD it been…?
It had started in the spring, when La Madre de los Árboles en Flor was starting to bloom again. Naaji remembered, because he was waiting for some of Her smaller petals to be at their peak vibrancy so he could press them into a book for Nori. Mesahra didn’t really have a winter, at least not officially, but there was definitely a time when spring was at its peak — the plants greener, flowers brighter, and air sweeter.
They’d been working on his gift when they’d gotten a call from Nori.
“Hey, I don’t think I’ll be able to come over later… or for a while,” Nori had said.
“What? Why not? The Spring Festival is next week! Aren’t you coming?”
“I don’t know... I want to, obviously! It’s just—”
“... just what?”
“Some of the servants have gotten sick, I guess. Real bad, apparently, because I’m not allowed to leave my room anymore.” Naaji could hear the eye roll in his voice. “I’ve been locked up until further notice. Can’t have the sole heir to the throne getting sick, now can you?”
“I guess not… could I come see you?”
“I doubt they’d let you in, my parents have the place locked up preeetty well… although, I’m sure you could find a way to sneak in, what with your subtle orange wings and all,” Nori had laughed, and then: “... I’m sorry, bug, but there’s nothing I can do right now. We just have to wait it out, I guess.”
“Okay… call me again soon?”
“Hehe, of course! Love you, bugga boo.”
“Love you too, seaweed boy.”
That had been weeks ago now, and Nori’s book now sat on Naaji’s shelf, only half finished. They’d called off and on for a while, but just because Nori was free from his responsibilities and schooling (his teacher had fallen sick, along with most of the palace staff, in the span of a few days) didn’t mean Naaji was free too.
The Mesahran Monarchs didn’t like their beloved child talking so much to Nori, anyway. Yes, they were allies, and there was their soulbond, but that was all political, it didn’t mean anything worthwhile, and Prince Noriaki was a Windarian, and— whatever. His parents were wrong about him. Naaji didn’t care what they thought. Or, tried really hard not to care, anyhow.
So every night they’d called for as long as they could without Naaji getting caught. They’d talk about their day, things they’d done, the stupid adults they had to deal with, and they’d make plans for things to do once Nori could go outside again.
“I feel like a caged bird, Naaji! I can’t even go out onto my balcony!”
Naaji hummed, looking over the irritated boy on his screen with a smile. “You’re a very cute bird, though.”
“Heh, yeah, I guess I am pretty cute~ … thanks, Ji.”
“You’re welcome.”
One night, Nori had mentioned that he was thinking of picking up music again. He’d had a lute for years, he said, but had never learned how to play properly. And maybe once he could visit again, they could go to the Mesahran Records studio and record something together.
Naaji had liked that idea. He had really liked that idea.
(He had hoped that was the reason Nori had decided to come over tonight — “Surprise! Sorry I ghosted you for two weeks, I got distracted learnin’ how to lute and writing this song for you, and now it’s done and I’m here to play it for you!” — That would have been nice.)
Whatever the reason, Nori had stopped calling, after a while. Hours went by without a text back, and then a day or two, then three. Naaji hoped he’d just gotten hyperfixated on his music. It had happened before, where Nori had found a new hobby and forgotten to respond back at regular intervals for a while. That was normal for him, that would be fine.
That must’ve been it. They’d hoped that was it.
But… Naaji didn’t think it was a coincidence that he’d stopped answering consistently when his parents had gotten sick.
Nori hadn’t told him that himself, but Naaji had heard his own parents talking about it. Or complaining, really — a remark about fresh produce being delayed because the Emperor and Empress of the Valley were sick, and a scoff about how stupid it was that the empire that produces the most healing ingredients had the rulers dumb enough to fall ill themselves.
(It made Naaji feel ill, hearing them talk that way, but he stayed quiet. No use making them mad.)
Actually, the more that he thought about it, Naaji also didn’t think it was a coincidence what Nori had described the “plague” to be like, back when the first people were getting sick.
“I asked Gwyd about it, since he’s the head of all the healing distribution stuff, you know? He said it was like… a stomach bug, but worse. Like, you’re constantly throwing up, but you’re so weak you can’t get out of bed to take care of it, and so dizzy you can barely see— and if it’s really bad, you could be paralyzed…” Nori grimaced. “I’m— kinda glad, maybe, that they don’t want me to leave my room, I’m not too keen on catching that…”
“Do they know what caused it?” Naaji asked.
“No, I don’t think so, but I think…” Nori’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I think a few servants have died from it already… It’s so awful.”
Naaji hummed, setting his comm down and staring up at the ceiling blankly.
It couldn’t be, right?
It had to be some freak coincidence that a disease outbreak in the Valley had all the same symptoms of azalea poisoning. It had to be a coincidence, because— because there’s no way anyone could pull off a large-scale poisoning of an entire palace and not get caught.
Besides, azalea poisoning happened to non-Mesahrans all the time, right? They just— took whatever herb it was to cancel the effects, and it was fine. And the Valley was the one producing all those herbs, so… clearly they could fix it if it was.
“... has anyone figured out a cure yet?”
“I know the royal healers have been working on it, but if it was a common cure, I think we would’ve found it by now…” Nori frowned. “That’s not a great start, but I know there have been people who got better from it too, so—” they shrugged.
Okay. Normal cures didn’t work. That… wasn’t good, but it ruled out normal azalea poisoning if normal cures weren’t working, at least. And the Valley was literally the best of the best, so they’d figure it out… right?
“Well… stay safe, okay? I love you.”
“Mhm, I will. I love you too.”
Naaji had pretended not to hear the whispers around the palace that week. Hushed talk of conspiracy, poison, murder— but all of it stopped as soon as they noticed him.
What was worse, though, was that no one seemed to care. The children were bonded now, weren’t they? Who cares if the Emperor dies, the magic was safe, that’s the end of it.
It made his blood boil, but he knew what they'd say — “Ohhh, little Prince Naaji, always so caught up thinking about his little friend from the other land. Shouldn’t he be more focused on his own kingdom? That’s alright, one day they’ll learn… it’s better to focus on your own problems.”
Yeah, they couldn’t wait to be monarch one day. Everyone was so awful here, and no one ever listened to them, but one day? One day they’d have to listen, and he'd make things right. He’d show them—
“MRROW!”
Naaji startles out of his thoughts from a feline yelp of pain, and looks down to realize they’d been digging their nails into Nori’s head.
“Oh— sorry, I got distracted…” they wince. The cat hisses, but quickly goes back to how he was positioned, gently gnawing on one of Naaji’s fingers.
“Aww… good kitty, aren’t you?” he says quietly, stroking Nori’s black fur back into place. Not very well, though, because in their head the pieces were starting to come together, bright and clear and obvious, and far from pleasant, and— Oh, poor Nori…
His parents. His parents were dead now, they were almost sure of it.
That’s why Nori had gone out despite his quarantine and come here. That’s why he hadn’t gotten any sleep. That’s why he hadn’t been answering his comm. It made sense now.
They must’ve gotten worse, so much worse, and he must’ve been trying to take care of them, but he wasn’t allowed to actually see them, and now— now they were gone, and it didn’t matter if Jun and Gwydyon and the rest of the palace staff could run the kingdom, because his parents were dead, and it was probably Naaji’s fault because it was his kingdom that killed them, and even if it wasn’t true then he’d feel guilty until proven innocent anyway, and—
A small tear slides off Naaji’s cheek and lands on Nori’s head. The cat sneezes and shakes his body out, tilting his head to look up at Naaji, confused about the sudden rain.
“Oh, Nori…” Naaji mumbles between hiccups. “I’m s-so sorry…”
They scoop up the cat, holding him under his arms and up to their face, looking into his eyes.
“... you didn’t come here to play a song for me, did you…” they whisper. Nori’s cat brain doesn’t seem to get the memo. He just closes his eyes and starts licking Naaji’s nose.
Naaji sniffs and shakes their head. He can’t even laugh at Nori’s funny cat behaviors, he’s too… stuck.
“I wish you could still talk, as a cat… kinda defeats the purpose of being animal-brained though, huh?” they sigh, lowering Nori to hold him like a baby in one arm, rubbing his belly with their other hand. The cat leans into the pets, purring contentedly.
“... I wish I could bring them back for you.”
That gets the cat to stop. He blinks up at them, lavender eyes curious, head tilted like he’s asking a question. Naaji frowns, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve before more rain could fall on his little friend.
“Your— your parents, Nori… I know something must've happened to them, and I— I’m sorry, I wish—”
They're cut off by cat paws suddenly appearing in front of their mouth.
He sniffs, pushing the paws away, trying again: “Mmfh… and it’s all my fault, because— I had no idea! But the plague, I should’ve said someth—”
Again, little black paws are placed in front of their mouth, accompanied by a loud “mrrrow!” of protest.
Naaji chokes out a sob, squeezing their eyes shut and pushing him back. “And I’m sorry! And I wish I could fix things! And I’m so—!”
“NAAJI!”
He freezes, eyes flying open. A very tired, human-shaped but still somewhat feline Nori is sitting in front of them. They try to say something, but the second their mouth opens, Nori’s hand is clamped over it.
“Ji… I need you to shut up for a minute.”
They blink, nod once, and stay quiet. If they focus on listening, maybe the racing thoughts won’t be so loud.
“Naaji, none of this is your fault, okay? None of it,” Nori says firmly. “And I won’t hear anything of you saying otherwise.”
Naaji swallows, slowly pushing Nori’s hand away from their mouth. “So I was right then, about your…” he trails off.
Nori looks down at his hands in his lap, inhaling and exhaling a few times before he speaks. “I… yeah, they’re— they’re gone…” He shakes his head. “That’s not the point, though.”
“I think it should be!” Naaji cries suddenly. “That’s kind of— I— Nori! Your parents just died! And—”
His gaze locks with Nori’s, and he watches as his friend’s brown eyes slowly flood with tears. They wince and look away.
“… and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Naaji…”
“But what if it—!”
“It’s not.”
Naaji’s mouth snaps shut. He still thought something was deeply wrong about the whole thing, but… it probably wasn’t the time, or the place, to try to argue that point.
“Look, the reality is,” Nori starts. “I’m going to have to become emperor sooner or later, right? So—”
“Nori— no, there’s no way!” Naaji protests. “You’re still so young— you’re only sixteen, for Devs’ sake! Surely Jun could—”
A finger is placed over Naaji’s lips. “I’m not saying now, I’m saying later. So, I guess, what I’m asking is…” Nori lowers his finger, placing it on the hard floor in front of them, and begins to tap.
Taptaptaptap. Tap. Tap-taaap-taptap. Tap-taaap-taaap-tap. Taaap-taaap. Tap. Taptap-taaap-taaap-taptap.
They listen carefully, converting the sounds into letters in their head automatically:
H-E-L-P-M-E-?
The message was clear, but he stays quiet, waiting for the rest. A few years back, Nori had proposed they create a secret language of tapping together so they could subtly communicate to each other in meetings where young princes were to be seen and not heard. It'd taken some practice, but they'd both become pretty good at it, hosting entire conversations beside the adults talking the latest in foreign affairs. They didn't use it much when they could just say their thoughts aloud, but tonight, he'd give Nori a pass.
Usually a message like that would be accompanied by something like ‘I’m literally dying of boredom, please get me out of here!’, but no secondary phrase comes.
That was the whole message. ‘Help me?’
“Help you…? With what, Ki?”
"I'm… not sure yet," he admits quietly. "I just know I'm gonna need it, y'know? And, well, seeing as you're my friend, or my ally, or my soulbound—"
“Soulmate.”
Nori pauses, “… what?”
“Soulmate,” Naaji repeats simply. “We’re soulmates.”
The corner of Nori’s mouth twists into a small smile. “Right, as soulmates, then… can you— be there for me, please?”
They nod, then nod again. “Of course, of course I can. Always, forever.”
He means that, he realizes. They were still basically kids, yeah, but— they loved Nori. They wanted to be with their best friend forever. They’d go with him anywhere… just maybe not off a cliff’s edge. He wasn’t stupid, and really, one of them had to be the marginally more logical one in this relationship.
“… but, Nori, your parents… shouldn’t you be taking care of that first? Rather than focusing on the future of your entire kingdom?”
Nori opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens it… and closes it.
“… I haven’t gotten that far, yet…” he admits quietly, rubbing his eyes.
Naaji can tell Nori hadn’t processed… any of that, really. He didn’t have much experience mourning, but it was easy to see that his friend was deep in denial — or at least, trying to be. He couldn’t blame him, grief was a lot, especially for a kid.
Yeah, they could unpack all that later, preferably with a healer present.
“Well… I’ll help you with that first, then.” Naaji says. Their hand makes its way to Nori’s, pinkies finding each other and easily locking together in a reassuring squeeze.
I’m here. I promise.
Nori’s entire self relaxes, cat ears flattening and a tired but relieved smile spreads across his lips. “Okay, okay… thank goodness. I don’t know what I’d do if you had said no, honestly…” he admits.
“Oh, lost your mind, probably… Devs know you’re not ready to run a kingdom by yourself,” they joke, lightly knocking against Nori’s shoulder.
“Ohh, not by a long shot! The Valley would be abandoned in two days!” Nori whines.
“Well, it’s a good thing you have me then!” Naaji laughs. Nori does too, for a moment, until he goes quiet again.
“Uhm… Naaji?”
“Mhm?”
“Would it be okay if… maybe I slept here tonight? I can sleep on the floor, or something!” Nori adds quickly. “I just, I’m tired of being alone…” he mumbles.
‘And I don’t want to go home yet… not by myself, not without you,’ whispers the black tail twitching behind him.
“Of course you can, Ki,” Naaji says. “You can absolutely stay. And I won’t make you sleep on the floor, don’t worry.”
He’d always wanted to have a friend sleep over since he’d heard kids in the streets talking about them, but they were royalty, so it had never been allowed. And even if it was, Nori was the only person close to his age that he even knew, and he was definitely #1 on the “no sleeping over” list. They'd take any sleepover at this point, it sounded fun— even if this wasn’t exactly the “games and gossip and hair braiding and nail painting” party they’d been imagining.
Nori slowly nods, chewing his lip anxiously. “Mmh… 'kay, but shouldn’t I be— like, hiding under the bed or something? Just to be extra safe about it? Because if someone found out… wouldn’t your mom—”
“Forget my mom.”
Nori blinks and stares at Naaji in bewilderment, but there’s a spark in his eyes, and his ears slowly began to be tipped with a familiar vibrant orange.
“… what?”
“I said forget about my mom, and my dad, forget about them all!” Naaji bursts out, letting go of Nori’s hand and throwing both of theirs up in the air. “I’m so tired of everyone trying to keep us apart! And their reasons are always so stupid! And I’ve had to listen to them all complain — for a month — about ohh there’s a delay in our fruit shipment again, such a shame, when there’s literally people dying, and—” he cuts himself off upon seeing hints of a rain cloud threatening to overtake Nori again.
Too much, Naaji.
“I’m… I’m just so tired, Nori. I’m tired of their rules. I’m tired of playing their dumb game where we always lose,” he sighs and returns his hands to his lap. “So yes, you can stay the night, please stay the night. I don’t want to care what they think anymore... and, I don’t care what they’ll say when they find out I slept with a Windarian,” they say, a smirk creeping onto their face.
Nori’s face breaks into a grin, his orange dappled tail bouncing excitedly on the ground behind him. “Oh, wow, okay! Can I sleep with you every night, then?!”
They giggle. “Let’s just see how tonight goes, huh?”
“Heh, okay… deal.”
Naaji hops up onto the bed, arranging the pillows they grabbed from the floor into a crescent before patting the spot beside him. Nori eagerly joins them, nestling himself right up to their side and flipping his feline tail around Naaji’s leg snugly.
Naaji smiles and slides down into the blankets, being very mindful of their wings as they do so. Usually, they slept on their stomach, but just this once he’d sleep on his side. For Nori.
And really, this worked out well for him, because as he was getting cozy and wrapping his arms around his soulmate, he discovered that Nori’s head tucked perfectly under his chin, like a missing piece. It felt lovely.
They hum softly, snuggling a little closer to him. He reaches one arm around Nori's back, and the other reaches into his hair to pet behind his ears. The prince lets out a soft purr, and Naaji smiles.
“… hey, Ji?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” Nori says quietly, barely a whisper. “Thanks for— uhm…” his voice fades out.
“You’re welcome, Nori. You’re welcome anytime. I know you’d do the same for me,” Naaji says. They pause, then lightly plant a kiss on the top of Nori's head, right between his ears. Against his body, he can feel Nori stiffen in surprise, then relax into comfort again. They give his ears a few more gentle scritches for good measure, smiling when Nori’s purrs rumble through both of them.
“I love you, Noriaki.”
“I love—” Nori yawns, “you too, Ji…”
They’d be okay. Naaji was sure of it. If anyone could make it through something as awful as what had happened, it was Nori. And now, they were there to help him.
It would all work out… eventually.
Naaji waits until the rising and falling of Nori’s chest against his reaches a steady, slow rhythm, and then he lets himself float off into sleep too. In the morning, there would be trouble. But for now, he chooses to find peace in the quiet rumbling of his soulmate’s purrs and allows himself to rest.