Work Text:
Even the setting sun seems to drain her, energy fading as the light goes down in regal splendor that she envies. Her exhaustion is no regal thing; she feels flayed raw, siphoned for every last ounce of her soul by the long day. Hair sticking at odd angles from the general hurriedness of life itself, outift wrinkled from wear, her tired eyes find every last flaw to nitpick in the dying light. She shakes her head to clear the spiraling thoughts, trudging towards the One & Only and entering it without the grandeur it deserves.
She wants nothing more than to shower and flop into her nearby bed, to drown herself in the luxurious pillows and blankets that the Knight of Beauty on board has stockpiled for her comfort and his own beauty-rest. Boots kicked off and deliberately, painstakingly, fixed into their proper place, put away somewhere beautiful (somewhere tidy, at least, only Argenti seems to be able to call a boot rack beautiful and mean it), the weight of the day hits her in full force, nearly dragging her to the floor with it.
Strong arms catch her as a curtain of silky red envelops her vision, tickling her nose with the scent of sun-warm roses and cosmic musk.
"Beloved?"
She thinks he must have been talking to her for some time now, as her head stops spinning long enough for her to decipher just one word of his question. The only word that matters to her right now, the only thing she woukd like to be (not a coworker, not a acquaintance, not an employee or a helper or a hero or even a friend, just "Beloved" for tonight) is all that she latches onto as she lets him hold her.
Mumbling a response, a tired hum to let him know she is listening even as she makes herself comfortable in his steady arms, she feels, more than hears, him frowning and musters up what strength she has left to try and explain herself.
"I am..."
She starts, but the weight deep in her chest is more powerful than she had anticipated and she ends up choking out the rest of her sentence.
"So tired, lover."
His little "aha", soft and tender and full of understanding, reaches her ears as she starts sniffling, trying to hold back the tears wrought of big emotions from falling and splattering on to his polished armor (he would never mind something so human befalling his prized attire; to him, there was nothing un-beautiful about tears, emotions given truest, purest, sparkling raw form).
Shifting then, settling her until he is holding her more solidly to himself, her head tucked into his chest as he cradles her in his arms above the floor, he moves. They pass through the interior of his ship, of their ship, in silence. His heartbeat leads her into the beginning vestiges of slumber, lulling the exhaustion in her head into a more tolerable, cottony fog.
When he sets her down on the edge of her bed, or his bed, or their bed now? she hardly notices. He coaxes her into a sitting position, with her legs dangling over the edge and facing him as he kneels in front of her. One hand of his reaches towards the outside of her thigh, close to her hip, and he makes eye contact with her until she rouses enough to blink and nod, giving him the consent he seeks. Hand now laid at her side, grounding her with the solid heat of his palm, he speaks.
"How can I help you, beloved?"
The soul that shines through his eyes gazes up at her from behind his delicate lashes, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing soothing circles into the plush of her thigh. His voice is only a whisper.
"Command me, and I will make it so; whatever you require, you shall have it by my hand, as you have my heart."
His left hand holds her right gently, massaging it with the same carefulness that one might use to pet at flower petals. Bringing it to his lips, slowly, when she murmurs her response, he kisses it softly in reverence and promise.
Asking him to help her unwind, to help her leave the day behind, earns her more than one soft kiss as well. Tenderly, he slips off her jacket from her shoulders, using one of his arms to help hold her upright, knowing that the trust she places in him to carry the weight of her (all of it, physical and mental and emotional) is not misplaced. Folding it and setting it aside, he continues, until piece-by-piece she is freed from the work day and clothed for lounging and sleep.
He towels off her face and hair with open adoration, soft gratitudes and sweet nothings (everythings) slipping from him to her as easily as he breathes. She responds in kind as best she can, but he only hushes her with a light chuckle and soft sounds, encouraging her to just relax and let him help as he intends to. Closing her eyes, she does. A free fall into his care is perhaps the single most freeing, darling experience of love that she has ever known, and she takes secret revelry in knowing that he feels the same when thinking of her.
Brushing, soothing, holding, caring- these are the crux of her evening as Argenti fulfills his mission objective. She falls asleep part way through his dedicated endeavors, and is soundly in the land of sweet dreams by the time he is done. A kiss to her forehead bids her goodnight, and the hand that cards through her hair as she sleeps promises her safety, safe entrusting him with her love.
° ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚🌹˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚🌹˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚
Waking in the new morning, the One & Only humming to life as the dawn approaches, Argenti rolls his head towards where his love lays next to him. She curls closer, seeking him even as sleep tries desperately to cling to her, to cling to them both. He is loathe to leave the bed, snuggling her tighter as she blinks awake.
"Breakfast?"
His beloved asks, just as he has asked her to, for what she wants, and it pleases him so ardently that she has such faith and trust in him so as to let herelf be so true. Still, the bed is warm and cozy and he thinks five more minutes would be quite beautiful. He acquiesces anyway.
"As you wish."
(Breakfast is served with a kiss when they both finally rise for the day).