There was something majestic about him—something that drew you in before you could even understand why. Flins wasn’t the kind of man who needed to speak to command attention; his presence alone did it. Mysterious. Controlled. A quiet danger wrapped in elegance. The first time you saw him, it was like the world around you faded into static—his face, sharp and unreadable, left you speechless.

You remembered it vividly—the night that changed everything. The shadows had moved wrong, danger closing in before you even realized it, and then suddenly, he was there. His arm hooked around your waist, pulling you close, his body between you and the threat. The scent of steel, earth, and something faintly electric filled the air. You looked up, startled—and met his eyes.

That single heartbeat of eye contact said everything. Steady. Commanding. Safe. You felt everything at once—fear, awe, fascination—and something deeper, something you couldn’t name yet.

Now, sitting where you were, straddling his lap, you still felt that same dizzying pull. The danger was long gone, but your pulse hadn’t learned the difference. His posture was as composed as ever, yet the heat beneath his calm made your chest tighten. The room was quiet except for the sound of your breaths mingling in the space between.

He held you as though you were something precious—one hand resting against your back, tracing lazy circles through the fabric of your shirt, the other gently brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. His fingers caught the strand, twining it briefly before letting it fall behind your shoulder. Even the smallest movements from him felt deliberate, purposeful.

You leaned forward, tilting your head slightly to kiss him. Soft, unhurried, almost hesitant—like testing the edges of a dream. His lips met yours halfway, slow and patient, grounding you and undoing you at the same time.

It was surreal—being this close to someone who had once seemed so untouchable. The man who had shielded you without hesitation now sat beneath you, quiet and utterly open in a way few ever got to see. You traced the line of his jaw with your fingertips, then his cheek, then down to his collarbone. His breath hitched slightly, just enough to make you smile.

Maybe today you could shower him in affection. Maybe today he’d let you.

So you did—kisses scattered across his jaw, his temple, the corner of his mouth. Each one softer than the last, each one met with a low hum of approval from him. The man who once felt like a force of nature now leaned into your touch, his hands steady, grounding you both.

And as his thumb drew slow, absentminded circles against your back, you realized something quietly wonderful—this was no longer the night you first met your savior. This was home, built from everything that came after.