Frost & Flames | Soulmate AU 2 |

Twenty-Three

I wake up to Rowan slipping into bed beside me.

"Hey," he whispers.

"Hi," I murmur back without turning over to look at him. "You put her to bed already?"

"Yeah," he replies. "She was out like a light. I guess she had an exciting day."

"Lots to do in preschool," I mumble partially into my pillow. "Tag during recess, finger painting, musical chairs."

He huffs a laugh, shuffling across the mattress until he's finally touching me, skin to skin.

"Jeez, you're warm," he says. "It's like a furnace under these blankets."

"And they call you the fire bender," I joke.

He winds an arm over my waist, using the hold to pull me in close under he's pressed against the length of my bed. He pushes his face into my neck and, after a moment, kisses the sensitive skin there. It's nice, too. There's been a couple of times during the last week or so where it wasn't nice, but it feels decidedly good right now. This little noise in the back of my throat bubbles up. A soft sigh escapes my lips when his teeth scrape against my neck.

"Yeah?" he breathes into the side of my jaw.

"Uh huh," I murmur back.

I turn onto my back and he follows, draping himself half across my chest so he can still nip at my neck. His hands start to wander as my own find his own hair. He likes to brush my hair and run his fingers through throughout the day, and I like to pull it when things start to heat up. One of his hands comes to settle on my bare stomach. His pinky just barely brushes against the band of my boxers, and I squirm, making another one of those tiny noises. I push my hips up into his hand.

"Yes?" he says, the question quiet but firm.

"Yeah," I say, letting out an honest to god whimper when he slides his hand into my underwear. It's good, almost like everything in The Vault never even happened. His hand starts to move in a way that's oh so familiar.

"Kiss me, kiss me," I gasp, suddenly frantic with the need for him to do just that.

He surges forward, lips connected mine a little too hard with the force of movement. I groan against his lips, shifting my hips restlessly. His hand quickens and I start straight up panting into his mouth, unable to stop myself.

It all ends with a sudden shattering of reality, the pieces falling back to earth and reconnecting one by one as I lay there, blinking dopily at the ceiling.

"Good?" Rowan asks. My head lolls in his direction to meet his gaze. He smiles softly, shifting where he's kneeling beside me. I didn't even notice him move.

"Yeah," I practically slur back, smiling once more. "You're so hot, you know what?"

He snorts, making direct eye contact with me before slowly and deliberately wiping his palm on the bed sheets.

"Row!" I exclaim, exasperated.

He only shrugs, laying back down beside me. "That's a problem for tomorrow morning." I shake my head, absolutely scandalized. He stares back, unwavering, and I let it go. There are bigger problems in the world.

"What about you?" I ask, pointing to his own boxers.

He huffs out a tiny laugh, sitting up just enough to tug our huge comforter over us.

"You kinda disconnected from earth for a moment there," he jokes, settling down beside me. "You're also pretty hot yourself, baby. I'm all taken care of."

The thought of him getting off on nothing but me doing the exact same thing admittedly makes my insides a little squirmy with desire. I'd probably do something about it, too, if I wasn't already so tired.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I shift closer, tucking myself against him. He snakes an arm behind my head so he can bracket me in place.

"Yeah," I whisper back, pressing a tiny kiss to his bare chest.

The single word is thankfully enough validation for him. He doesn't ask if he was too pushy or remind me that I should tell him if anything makes me uncomfortable. It was like that at the very beginning of our relationship, back when he had just learned of abuse I had experienced as a child. After a well-needed conversation in which I informed that if he does something I don't like, he'll definitely know, he stopped with the constant worry and check-ins. It wasn't a bad thing that he was being so careful, it just meant that he cares about me, but my brain interpreted as unneeded coddling that I had to put a stop to. Things only got better from that point, but this whole business of the attack in The Vault has set me back.

We're both being a little more cautious than normal now. It's not as much as the very beginning, but enough to be noticeable. I have no complaint, either, because I've been having some unpredictable reactions to things and I can't say with any degree of certainty what will upset me. We're relearning where the boundaries are all over again, and it's frustrating, but we've done it once before which means we're practically experts, right?

A sudden thought occurs to me in the darkness of our room.

"Do you think Nick is okay?" I ask.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think they really brought her to D.C.? That they didn't just cart her off to another remote prison?" I reply, worrying at my lip. What she did definitely wasn't good, but it certainly doesn't call for a life lived in a place even remotely similar to The Vault.

"She used her one phone call already," he says quietly, carding his fingers through my hair with gentle strokes. "Max texted me to let me know. She's not going to be allowed back into the tower ever again, someone's going to have to deliver her stuff. The League seriously recommends we cease contact with her completely, but it's not something they enforce."

"So she's in holding in headquarters?" I press.

He kisses my forehead.

"Yes, Lake," Rowan says softly. "She's in holding, and they're doing a legitimate investigation. We'll know if she just disappears, and Max won't stand for her being carted off to some isolated place where they only let you outside once a week, no matter if she's still his agent or not."

I nod, reassured. He's right. Max is a reasonable man. He wouldn't let one of his own be slapped with a harsher than necessary sentence and then thrown to the wolves. It's with that reassurance that I fall asleep, because if anyone is need of a second chance right now, it's Nick, and The Vault is the place where second chances go to die.