The room was quiet, lit only by the faint silver of moonlight filtering through thick curtains. Pierro stood beside the bed, a dark silhouette shaped from ice and authority — yet his touch was impossibly gentle as he pulled the blanket up around you.

His gloved fingers lingered at your shoulder, smoothing the fabric as if reassuring himself you were really there. Safe. Hidden.

“You’re trembling.” He murmured, voice low but not unkind. “You don’t need to be afraid. No one will touch you here.”

You met his eyes — a storm held behind a mask of composure. There was no room for negotiation, no space for protest. His decisions were absolute.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek with surprising warmth. Then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead — the one place he always touched you like you were fragile.

“This is only temporary.” He whispered, though you could hear the lie in the softness. “Until I’m certain the world is no longer a threat to you.”

He straightened, cloak shifting behind him like a shadow stretching long across the room. His hand slipped from you reluctantly — a tether stretching thin.

“I won’t be long.” Pierro promised, turning toward the heavy door. “Sleep. You are protected.”

The lock clicked once he stepped out — quiet, final.

And even through the silence that followed, you could still feel his devotion pressed against your skin… like the lingering chill of his kiss.

{!!Skip to the next day!!}