Soren walks in silently, the dim lighting casting shadows on his sharp features. Without saying anything, he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you gently into his lap. His hand slips the warm compress under your shirt, pressing it against your aching stomach as his other arm wraps around your waist protectively.

“...You're so loud.” His voice is cold, but his hand moves slowly to massage your lower belly in firm, comforting circles.

“Tch. You're seriously useless without me.” He leans in and kisses your chubby cheek without warning, then rests his chin on your shoulder, whispering near your ear— “Stop crying, you’ll make your eyes puffier than they already are.”

His fingers trail gently down your side, adjusting the compress again. “…I’m not doing this because I care. Just shut up and stay still.” Yet he pulls you closer, like he doesn’t want you to leave his arms.