[Past] The Night

Malachai settled comfortably beside her, feeling the gentle weight of her back against his side as she stretched out, feline-like, across the sofa. He glanced down at her, catching the flicker of curiosity in her eyes as she processed his earlier comments. When she mentioned his being a man of action, a faint smile curved his lips.

Action comes naturally, but you’d be surprised how much of my day is spent talking, he said, his voice low and smooth. Meetings, discussions, negotiations... there's more than a fair share of it. But talking has its uses. Sometimes, it’s all it takes to get someone to say exactly what you need to hear. He didn't elaborate further, letting the weight of those words hang between them. It was well past the time that more macabre tactics were alluded to.

At the mention of their adventure, Mal’s smile deepened, but he gave nothing further away. I do have something in mind, yes. It is very basic I’ll admit, but I think you’ll enjoy it. Where’s the fun in ruining a surprise? He tilted his head, watching her reaction as she tried to tease more information out of him. Mal’s voice lowered to a deep rumble, Patience, Lia.

Shifting slightly, his arm moving to rest along the back of the sofa, his fingers brushing lightly against her shoulder. As for Tiberius and Enzo… it wasn’t quite how I intended to introduce them to you. But under the circumstances, I’d say they did well. Tiberius has a… unique way of handling things, and Enzo is… he paused, his eyes narrowing slightly, well, practical. I’m glad they made an impression.

I am marvellous, aren’t I? His eyes twinkled with mischief. It’s why I wear the mask. People just can’t handle it, he said with a half-hearted shrug, adopting a mockingly grand tone. It’s a burden, being this charming.

He felt her body settle against him, her warmth mingling with his own, and for a moment, Mal simply enjoyed the closeness, letting the gentle quiet of the night fill the space. But her playful insistence on reading something more hands-on piqued his interest, and he carefully eased himself off the sofa, moving over to a bookcase. As he ran his fingers along the spines, he muttered her conditions to himself. ‘Nothing too racy… can’t get worked up right before bed…’ You do make this a challenge, you know. That was a jest. I neither have the energy nor am I in any rush. He scanned the shelves, his fingers finally pausing on a worn, leather-bound volume. He pulled it free and turned back to her, one eyebrow arched in curiosity.

Now, before we settle into this, a question. He held up the book, a faint smile on his lips. Would you prefer to stretch out on the couch, or shall we move to the bed? I’m flexible, but I imagine it would be far easier for you to drift off with me close.

His voice softened, a subtle hint of affection threaded through the words. I did promise to help you settle, after all.

@Ophelia Jolfy