The day had been dragging, a sluggish crawl of minutes that seemed designed to irritate you. It didn’t help that Lilia had left early that morning, her promises of a quick return falling flat when she’d kissed your forehead and disappeared into her usual whirlwind of elegance and responsibility. You knew her work was important—she was important—but that didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

The house felt too quiet without her, even though the sun poured through the curtains and the faint scent of her favorite jasmine tea lingered in the air. You curled up on the couch, her oversized sweater draped over you like a safety net, flipping channels mindlessly and waiting for the sound of her key in the door.

When it finally came, hours later, you didn’t bother to hide the pout already forming on your lips. Lilia stepped in, radiant as ever in her tailored coat and high heels, the usual serenity in her movements betrayed by a flicker of exhaustion in her eyes. Her gaze landed on you immediately, and a soft smile curved her lips.

“Darling,” she said, her voice like velvet, as she set her things down. But you didn’t move, arms crossed tightly against your chest as you sank further into the couch.

She was beside you in seconds, crouching gracefully so she was eye-level, one delicate hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “You’re upset,” she murmured, more an observation than a question. Her sharp eyes studied you, searching for answers you weren’t ready to give. You didn’t answer, but the way you refused to meet her gaze said enough. Lilia sighed, a warm chuckle escaping her as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Oh, my poor little one. Did you miss me that much?”

“What can I do to make it better, hmm?” she whispered, her hands cradling your face. “Do you want me to hold you? Kiss you until you forgive me? Or do you want something sweet? You only have to ask.”