Work Text:
Another page turned, making a squish sound that echoed in the whole Hellsing estate.
Integra’s eyes scanned the page, each sentence exactly two times before moving to the next. The pages, usually a pale blue—much lighter than her eyes—were now orangey. The light from the nightstand applied the warm filter on the book, alongside Integra and half of your face.
“Dear,” you yawned, arm tightening alongside Integra’s tummy, “don’t you think it’s late? Especially for reading?”
A shiver went through your arm as a sigh left Integra. Some new creases on her nightgown appeared under it. Yet you didn’t take it off. The satin was too soft.
“I told you, I drank too much coffee in the afternoon,” Integra said back.
“Yesterday you told me that coffee didn’t really affect you anymore.”
The Hellsing’s head now fully turned to you. Her right arm lowered until the book landed on the bedsheet, while the other one melted against your side.
She didn’t say a word back. Instead, she preferred to read from that angle. A sentence was registered. Her head tilted a little. Another one reflected on her glasses. You could feel her breath. The end of the page. Her cheek was against the top of your head. She even lifted her shoulder to hold yours closer.
“Yet I am not doing paperwork or revising attack plans, right?” Integra whispered, her lips finding your hair. “I am with you.”
You kissed her shoulder back. Integra’s nightgown fully embracing her middle as your arm tightened its grip. “Right.”