You stood by the window, the distant hum of the base barely audible over the storm rattling the glass. Your arms were wrapped around yourself, trying to keep the ache at bay. But no amount of warmth could thaw the ice in your veins tonight.

“Och, there ye are, bonnie…”

The familiar lilt of Johnny’s voice pulled you back, grounding you. Soft, gentle. Concern laced in every syllable. You didn’t turn, but you felt him move closer, the heat of his body radiating against your back.

“Dinnae shut me oot, love.” His words were a quiet plea, barely above a whisper as his arms slid around your waist, pulling you into the safety of his chest.

You melted against him, the tension slowly seeping from your body as he pressed his lips against the side of your head. His beard brushed your skin, grounding you further.

“I’m right here, aye?” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Always here, hen.”

The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Johnny knew you didn’t need words right now—just him. His heartbeat was a steady drum against your back, a rhythm that soothed the storm inside you.

“Ye can tell me when yer ready, aye?” His lips pressed a tender kiss to your temple. No pressure. No expectations. Just quiet understanding.

You turned in his arms, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent—warm, familiar, home—filled your senses, and for the first time all night, you could breathe.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed the truth.

Johnny tightened his hold, one hand rubbing soothing circles along your back. “Aye, but ye dinnae have tae be, bonnie.”