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As the door cracked open, she immediately stepped to the side and dipped into a curtsy for the figure in red who entered. The sound of his boots that she had been waiting for the whole day finally crossed the floor, followed by the soft slam of the door closing.
She kept her head bowed, yet she was struggling to hold her smile from breaking through her composure.
“Welcome back, Your Eminence,” she greeted.
She was waiting for his reply, but instead red leather brushed her chin, gently tilted her chin upward so she could see his face. Her eyes caught by his exhausted yet unyielding ones. Her smile had long vanished within the growing tension between them, followed by the heat creeping inside her cheeks. He lingered his gloved fingers there, letting her feel the barrier between them, between their lives in society. A barrier he clearly paid no mind.
“I’m home, My Dear,” he finally replied. His voice was heavy yet felt like a feather caressed against her nape. He landed a kiss on her forehead, and suddenly the tension melted away. His eyes traveled down over her figure and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. There was a hint of glimmer stirring in his dimmed eyes.
“You wear it, I see?”
“I like it!”
She stepped back and performed a playful twirl in front of him, flaring the nightgown he had given her. “Thank you, Your Eminence. It’s beautiful! I can’t stop admiring the fabric’s texture!” She observed the fabric, caressing it reverently.
He chuckled, closing the distance to slip his arms around her waist.
“Well, I needed to make sure it suited your artistic taste,” he murmured softly, leaning down slightly to nuzzle her cheek. His breath warmed her face, “You look so beautiful. I’m glad you like it.”
She couldn’t help but chuckle at the feeling of his stubble scratching against her cheek and then her neck. The sound made his chest loosen in ways the court never could. She was like a balm to his exhausted soul that had been spent surviving the court game. His gloved hands obsessively wandered upward her form, gently drawing her closer against him.
“That’s right. Laugh. Laugh for me,” he murmured against her neck, closing his eyes as if he was hoarding her warmth. His voice was slightly shaking, vulnerable.
She sighed in contentment, smiling softly at his words. She wrapped her arms around his back.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ll laugh for you, Your Eminence. Always.”
She felt his nod against her neck before then he suddenly tightened his embrace. One hand wrapped around her waist and the other around her thighs, quickly gathered and lifted her up.
“Your Eminence!” She exclaimed in surprise, her arms instinctively clutching his shoulders.
His lips pressed against her temple as he easily held her high against his chest. “Mine,” he murmured. His voice was rough from exhaustion, but steady in its claim.
The cardinal carried her across the room. She could feel his uneven breath against her hair and the slight tremor in his arms. She clutched his shoulders tighter, feeling the tension he had been dragged from the court back to the headquarters.
When he finally reached the bed, he gently lowered her before he let himself collapse on top of her. Still draped in the weight of his red uniform, he made sure his weight didn’t crush her smaller form beneath him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, seeking a familiar smell to ground himself.
Her breath hitched at the feeling of his hot exhale against her neck, his stubble grazing her skin. But, eventually she moved her fingers up, taking off his zucchetto. Freeing his worn out mind from the multiple duties, rivals, and schemes.
“Is your headache coming back?” She asked gently. Followed by his low hoarse murmur, “No.”
“I see.”
She put down the zucchetto on the nearby nightstand before she moved her fingers, gently reaching out to the hairline above his nape, combing and massaging there. She immediately heard a contented sigh, followed by the feeling of the tension leak away from him little by little. His hand was still gripping the fabric of her nightgown like he feared she might slip away if he let go. Her heart ached at his subtle gesture.
“It’s okay. You’re home now,” she whispered, landing a soft kiss on his temple. Her voice was as trembled as his arms around her. “You can rest.”
His only reply was a low hum against her neck, as if even words were too much. But his arms stayed locked around her in a desperate certainty that this was the only place he could breathe.