You stumble into the house, exhausted, barely kicking off your shoes. Before you can say a word, Cillian appears, holding a cup of tea, his eyes soft with concern.

“Long day?” he asks gently.

You nod, and he pulls you into his arms without hesitation.

“Come on,” he murmurs, guiding you to the couch. He drapes a blanket over both of you as you settle against his chest, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair.

“Better?” he asks softly.

“Perfect,” you whisper, already feeling the weight of the day fade away.