Two Pillows

Nox, still shaken by what they had just gone through, joined Torven in making sure every slave had left the compound. For a moment, he considered whether he should take his brother's body and bury it alongside their parents and brothers. In the end, he decided not to.

He no longer considered Abram part of the family.

The two broken warriors set out for Nox's childhood home. They rode side by side in silence, as always, though this time the air was thick with unspoken words.

Nox spent the entire journey replaying the events in his mind. 'Could he have done something differently? Why had no one seen Abram for who he truly was sooner?'

He recalled small, seemingly insignificant moments that now stood out as glaring warnings, but Abram had never been blamed for anything. He was always "the youngest", the one who still had a lot to learn. It was Nox and his brothers who were expected to try harder, to raise him right. He thought of Abram's angelic face... how he always got away with everything.

He also remembered the words their father had spoken before his death. Now, for the first time, he understood: Their father hadn't asked him to save Abram. It was a warning instead.

Nox's thoughts drifted to Torven, his sacrifice, and his care. 'What happens to us now?' he wondered silently, occasionally glancing at him.

When they finally arrived, everything looked just as it had before. Only the roses in the front of the house had grown a little wilder, and the rain had long since washed away the traces of his father's blood.

Torven headed to the kitchen to prepare a meal, while Nox took the horses to the stables.

After a moment, he appeared in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the frame, watching Torven stir a pot in silence. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke first: 

"Did you know from the beginning?" he asked plainly, referring to his newly discovered powers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Torven looked up at him, his hand pausing mid-stir.

"No... I didn't know from the very beginning," he replied slowly. "I knew you could control me... but I had no idea you possessed anything more than that. And when I did realize, it became clear to me that you weren't aware of it yourself."

He sighed softly, his voice trembling slightly.

"Try to understand, Nox... I was trying to protect myself, too. And even though I couldn't let you go, somehow I couldn't bring myself to tell you that you had complete power over me either."

Nox understood, at least partly. He had spent his whole life hiding his Mark and shutting himself off even more after Blint's betrayal, blaming himself for not being more careful... And for naively trusting that monster that was supposed to be his closest friend.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a spoon clinking against the pot. Torven had set it down and stepped toward him, coming very close.

He rested his head gently against Nox's shoulder and whispered:

"And my heart... it never wanted to let you get away."

Nox looked at him, stunned.

His heart pounded so hard it hurt.

After a moment, Torven lifted his head and his eyes searched Nox's, full of something raw and unguarded. Then, slowly, with a flicker of doubt and a breath caught between fear and longing, he leaned in. 

His lips brushed Nox's with the gentlest pressure.

Nox froze. His breath hitched, and his entire body was paralyzed by the tenderness of that single touch. But the moment his lips parted ever so slightly, Torven moved as if instinct took over and he deepened the kiss with quiet urgency, tilting his head slightly and pressing closer.

His tongue teased Nox's, warm and tentative at first, like he didn't want to break whatever fragile bond had bloomed between them.

Nox let out a low, involuntary sound, a half-gasp that Torven swallowed greedily. The sensation was dizzying. Torven's tongue moved with surprising confidence now, exploring, tasting, and coaxing. Their breaths mingled in short, heated bursts as Nox gave in, matching him, tasting him back.

His legs began to tremble. Torven must've felt it too, because he shifted, wrapping his arms around Nox's back and pulling him in closer. Their bodies pressed together, chest to chest, hearts beating in the same rhythm.

The kiss lingered lazily. Their tongues tangled slowly now, a bit less frantically; it felt more like a conversation neither of them had dared to speak aloud until this very moment. Nox found himself thinking how hot Torven's tongue felt, how it curled against his own with such unbearable tenderness. It wasn't just the kiss; it was everything they had refused to admit was finally pouring out between them.

Only then did Nox dare to open his eyes just a little.

And in Torven's gaze, he saw fire.

In that moment, the world vanished. Nothing else existed but the two of them.

Several minutes passed before the sharp scent of something burning slipped through their senses, pulling them back into a reality they had nearly forgotten.

Torven pulled away with a soft sigh and rushed to save the meal. Nox, breathless, mumbled something about preparing the bedroom and quickly slipped out of the kitchen.

He stopped only once he reached the hallway, leaning back against the wall. Trying to calm his racing heart, cheeks burning, completely unaware that on the other side of that wall, Torven stood over the scorched soup, breathing just as unsteadily.

---

Soon after that, Nox set to preparing the bedroom. He went to fetch fresh linens, and as he arranged the pillows on his own bed, a troubling thought crossed his mind.

Yes, they had shared a bed before, but that had always been out of necessity, not choice.

Now things were different.

He hesitated.

After a moment, he took one of the pillows and stepped out, glancing nervously down the hallway. Eventually, he picked the last guest room on the opposite side of the house for Torven.

"Yes. This is the most reasonable thing to do," he told himself firmly, placing the pillow on the bed.

Then he paused and looked at it again from a distance.

'No. It'll look like I'm rejecting him... like I don't want him next to me.'

Moments later, he was trudging back through the hallway with the pillow and an extra blanket, heading back to his own bedroom again.

He arranged them carefully on the bed, even giving the pillow a soft, almost affectionate pat.

Then he sighed.

"But what if he thinks I'm trying to seduce him? Like some pervert... This is a terrible idea." He said out loud.

In a flash, he yanked the bedding off, grabbed an additional pillow for Torven's comfort, gathered it all in his arms, and made his way back toward the guest room, muttering under his breath and glancing around as if he feared being caught.

He didn't even notice Torven poking his head out from around the corner.

"What are you doing?" Torven asked, raising a brow.

Nox nearly jumped out of his skin, almost dropping the pile of pillows and blankets.

He cleared his throat, trying to act casual, and said with forced confidence:

"I'm preparing your room."

He prayed Torven hadn't heard the chaos of his indecision echoing through the house.

Fortunately, he didn't see the amused smirk playing on the warrior's lips.

Torven didn't comment; he simply said over his shoulder: "Soup is ready."