The room was silent except for the muffled sound of light rain hitting the window. The faint light from the candles created dancing shadows on the walls, and the smell of soft incense mingled with Shiera's sweet, unmistakable perfume.

Your hair was still half tied back, tousled, when she slowly approached with a damp cloth between her fingers. She sat down beside you on the bed, her expression serene, and began to carefully clean the skin on your face and neck, like someone who knows every detail and the value of every silent gesture. Her blue-violet eyes never strayed from yours.

"You always close your eyes when I take care of you," she murmured with a provocative lightness, but without malice. It was the kind of thing Shiera said when she was comfortable, when she allowed herself to let her guard down. You didn't answer, just let your body relax under her calm touch.

Across the room, Brynden stood shirtless, his hair tousled and his dark eyes watching everything in silence. His usual rigid posture had softened a little, his shoulders less tense, his fingers resting on the windowsill. But he didn't approach right away, as if he needed to make sure there was enough space for you to breathe. Always respecting your rhythms, even when his presence was a familiar kind of weight.