The apartment was quiet when Nara finally collapsed onto the bed, exhaustion from the long day pressing on her. Keigh had returned from the office late today, only lingering long enough to drop a few files on his desk in his study before slipping quietly into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. He could smell the faint remnants of today's cooking, a comforting reminder that she was here, that she was safe.
From the doorframe, he watched her for a long moment, sprawled across the bed, hair splayed on the pillow, her shoulders rising and falling with each slow breath.
He knew he shouldn't, he knew this wasn't his place, but the protective instinct, the one that had been quietly growing since the club incident, whispered for him to stay close, to ensure she was safe, even in the smallest, quietest ways.
Minutes passed as he lingered at the door, eyes soft but vigilant, thinking about the subtle things that had made her presence feel like home, the way she laughed at the smallest jokes, how she hummed to herself when she cooked, the quiet confidence she carried despite her modesty.
Finally, he stepped forward, slowly and carefully. He crossed the line only he knew existed, the one drawn between protection and presence.
Gently, almost reverently, he slid onto the bed beside her, keeping the distance just right, his chest lightly brushing her back, hands tucked close, fully clothed. He didn't move her, didn't wake her. He simply let the warmth of his presence seep into the room, a silent vow to protect, to hold, to be there without demanding anything in return.
Nara stirred in her sleep, murmuring softly, but never fully waking. He stayed until the hours of the night deepened, until the first pale streaks of dawn began to edge through the blinds. Then, silently, he slipped away, leaving her to wake in the morning unaware of his vigil.
---
Nara woke to sunlight brushing across her face, a strange sense of warmth lingering on her skin. For a fleeting moment, she could have sworn someone had been there. She shook her head and laughed quietly to herself, too tired to dwell on it, yet with a faint echo of comfort in her chest.
Meanwhile, Keigh sat at the kitchen counter, nursing a black coffee, replaying the night over in his mind. He was certain now, this wasn't just protection, not anymore.
It was about her, about her laughter, her spirit, the way she moved through life without knowing the gravity of the world that was starting to orbit around her.
He didn't know how he was going to tell her, didn't know if she'd understand, but he knew one thing with absolute certainty, he was falling irrevocably, completely for Nara.