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The atelier was quieter than usual. The girls had gone to bed early after a long day in Kalhn, and the rain outside muffled everything else into a sleepy haze.
You sat curled near the window of your little room beneath the slanted roof in the attic, knees tucked close to your chest beneath layers of blankets. The candle beside you had long since burned low.
Your stomach cramped again. You squeezed your eyes shut. It wasn't unfamiliar pain. You'd dealt with it for years. Still, sometimes it arrived sharper than expected, twisting through your abdomen until even breathing felt exhausting.
Usually you just waited it out. You hated bothering people with it. Another cramp rolled through you, and you pressed a hand against your stomach with a quiet hiss.
The floorboards creaked outside your door. You immediately straightened.
A soft knock followed. "May I come in?" Qifrey's voice carried gently through the wood.
You swallowed. "Y-Yeah."
The door eased open. Qifrey stepped inside holding a small lantern, golden light spilling around him in warm halos. His hat was absent for once, light curls slightly tousled from the torment of the girls.
He took one look at you and immediately softened. "Oh dear."
You tried to smile. "I'm okay."
"You're curled up like a wounded animal."
"It's that bad?"
"A little."
Embarrassment crept hot into your face. "Sorry. I didn't mean to worry anyone."
"You didn't."
He closed the door quietly behind him before approaching. Everything about him became softer somehow, slower, as if he feared sudden movement might make things worse.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing toward the edge of your bed.
You nodded. He sat carefully beside you, robes rustling faintly. "Stomach?" he asked.
You stared at your blankets for a moment before mumbling, "Period."
There was no awkwardness on his face. No confusion or discomfort. Only understanding. "Ah," he said quietly. "That explains the pale complexion."
You laughed weakly through your nose. "You make me sound haunted."
"You do look rather ghostly."
Another cramp hit out of nowhere. Your hand instinctively tightened against your stomach, and your shoulders curled inward.
Qifrey noticed immediately. "Oh, sweetheart..." The words slipped out naturally, absentmindedly, like something warm wrapped around cold hands. He leaned slightly closer, concern etched across his features. "Is it severe tonight?"
"A little worse than usual."
"You should've told me earlier."
"It's fine."
His expression turned gently unimpressed. "You can barely sit upright."
You looked away. "I just didn't want to make trouble."
Qifrey sighed softly at that, more saddened than anything. "You living in pain is not an inconvenience to me."
The room fell quiet except for the rain tapping the roof.
You felt strangely emotional suddenly, raw in the vulnerable way periods always made you feel. Like every thought sat too close to the surface.
Qifrey seemed to notice that too. He always noticed things. "Wait here," he murmured.
You blinked. "I mean... I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
That earned a small laugh from him. "Good. Very reassuring."
He stood and crossed toward the corner of the room where extra blankets were folded. You watched him quietly as he gathered two thicker ones into his arms before kneeling on the floor.
"What are you doing?"
"Olly is pretty good at this kind of stuff. Fire magic and all is his specialty." Qifrey spread one blanket flat before reaching into the sleeve of his robe and retrieving a snugstone. It was a small stone Olruggio had drawn on a cut flat crystal with warmth that seemed to radiate comfortingly.
You watched, fascinated despite the ache in your stomach.
His fingers moved gracefully across the blanket, placing the blanket pocket against your stomach. His smile tugged warm and easy. The warmth settled kindly. The kind of warmth that seeped slowly into aching muscles.
Your eyes widened slightly. "Oh."
"There we are," he said softly, sounding pleased.
You sagged in relief, snuggling down into the blankets and the bed. "Oh my god."
"Better?"
"So much better." You could've cried, honestly. The heat spread through your abdomen in soothing waves, easing tension you hadn't realized had built into your entire body.
Qifrey adjusted the blankets around you afterward, tucking them securely over your legs. "There. Properly cocooned."
"You say that like I'm a moth."
"A very grumpy moth."
"I'm not that grumpy."
That made him laugh quietly. The sound filled the room warmly. You really liked that laugh. You wanted to hear it more.
You relaxed further into the pillows, exhaustion finally catching up now that the pain wasn't clawing through you quite as sharply.
Qifrey noticed immediately. "Have you eaten enough today?"
"...Maybe?"
"That is not an answer that inspires confidence." He sighs, standing up.
"I ate breakfast."
"And since then?"
"...Tea?"
"No, darling, it truly does not."
You groaned softly as he moved towards the door. "Don't leave." The words escaped before you could stop them.
Qifrey paused. For a brief moment, surprise flickered across his face— not because you'd asked, but because of how quietly desperate it sounded.
Your face burned. "Sorry. I just—"
"I wasn't going far." His voice gentled immediately. "I was only going downstairs to warm some food."
"Oh."
He smiled softly. "I'll come back with some food."
You nodded, embarrassed.
"You don't need to apologize for wanting comfort," he said quietly.
Your chest tightened painfully at the tenderness in his voice.
Then he disappeared down the stairs.
True to his word, he returned not long after with a steaming bowl balanced carefully in his hands. You ate sitting against the pillows while he remained nearby, occasionally refreshing the warming spell with little taps against the blanket bundle whenever the heat dimmed.
Eventually the cramps dulled into manageable aches. Sleepiness settled heavily over you. Qifrey noticed your drooping eyes and smiled faintly. "There you are."
"There I am?"
"Finally relaxing." He hums, taking the bowl and adjusting the pillows and blankets.
You blinked slowly at him. "...Thank you."
He looked almost puzzled by the gratitude. "Of course." As if there had never been another possible answer. He stood then, lowering the lantern flame until the room dimmed gold and amber.
At the doorway, he paused. "If the pain worsens again tonight," he said gently, "come wake me."
You hesitated. "...Really?"
Qifrey looked back at you, expression soft enough to ache. "Always."