The apartment was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting soft shadows across the walls. A faint scent of lavender and sage lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of the hot chocolate sitting on the coffee table.

Dick Grayson lay stretched out on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his eyes, the other reaching out blindly until his fingers found hers. He gave them a gentle squeeze, a silent I’m here, I’m home.

"You’re tired," she murmured from where she sat on the floor beside him, cross-legged with an old leather-bound book in her lap. The pages shimmered with faint golden runes, magic humming softly beneath her fingertips.

He peeked at her from beneath his arm, blue eyes soft with affection. "And you're up to something."

A small smile tugged at her lips as she traced a symbol into the air, a faint glow dancing between her fingertips before fading away. "Maybe. But mostly, I'm thinking about how you keep coming home looking like you lost a fight with a brick wall."

Dick chuckled, squeezing her hand again. "To be fair, the wall started it."

She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the way she worried about him. With a quiet sigh, she shifted closer, gently brushing her fingers over the bruises along his jaw. He leaned into her touch instinctively.

"Let me help," she whispered.

"You already do," he said, voice barely above a murmur.

She ignored the way her heart squeezed at his words and instead focused on weaving the healing spell, warmth spreading from her palm as she coaxed the pain away. Dick’s lashes fluttered, and within seconds, the tension in his muscles eased.

"Feels nice," he muttered sleepily.

She smirked, brushing a hand through his dark hair. "It’s supposed to."

As the magic settled, she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Rest, love."

Dick hummed contentedly, eyes drifting shut. "Stay with me?"

She smiled, threading her fingers through his. "Always."