Sleep eluded Eva this night, no matter how stubbornly she willed it to come – and perhaps that was exactly the problem, but she was too annoyed to try anything else than force rest to come. Tossing and turning, wrapping herself in all the blankets available and still freezing, she finally admitted defeat and lay still, glaring darkly towards the ceiling.
Her hand drifted unconsciously towards the other side of the mattress. The cold spot where there should have been warmth only made her mood drop further, and she retracted her hand with a huff, resolutely turning to her other side. She would be damned if she couldn't trick her tired body into sleep!
This and other thoughts were abruptly cut short when she heard the quiet creak of the loose floorboard in the entrance area. So quiet she would have missed it had she been anything but wide awake, but so familiar that there was absolutely no doubt in her mind what the sound had been.
Immediately she was upright, useless blankets kicked away and already leaning toward the nightstand while she listened for anything else. The sound didn't repeat itself, nor did she hear anything else.
That didn't have to mean anything, however. She was familiar enough with the supernatural to know how soundless it could be.
Her gaze drifted over to her phone on the nightstand, contemplating if she needed to call help, before shaking the thought of. There was a not too small chance that it was simply her partner returning home, after all. No need to get too worked up already.
Hope and worry warred with each other as she waited, listened – still nothing – until she finally gave up. Slipping out of bed and to her feet near soundlessly, she bent and picked up the shotgun leaning against the nightstand, cocking it in a smooth motion as she made her way to the door.
Nothing for it, she would have to go and see if there were any uninvited guests in their home.
While she made her way down the stairs, weapon at the ready, she mentally went through all the options she had. The wards around the house were still up, minimizing the chance of this being simple low-level demons breaking in – either Sparda returning, then, or something strong enough to get past the wards. If it was the later, they would soon enough get a greeting from her gun, before she would have to call for help-…
Ah, she thought, warm relief and sweet happiness flowing through her as she spotted the Force Edge leaning next to the front door once she reached the ground floor, sharp edges gleaming almost welcomingly in what little light there was. No need for that, then.
Then another thought crossed her mind, cold and sharp and unwelcome.
Then where is he?
Why would he not simply come see her if he was home, no matter the time?
"Sparda?" Calling out, she nearly dropped the shotgun as she hastened down the hallway, trying to guess where he could be.
She didn't have to guess for long, a call making her turn towards the doorway she had just passed. "In here, Eva."
Oh, she thought, heart sinking as she turned toward the living room where the call had come from. The voice was both familiar and not so at the same time, an inhuman reverberation to it that made it sound like different voices speaking over each other all at once, one more demonic than the other. She knew by heart in which form he would wait for her when she stepped into the room, waiting in the doorframe until her eyes had adjusted to the darkness.
Even in near complete darkness, Sparda's eyes met hers, twin sources of fiery red light right near the window. For a moment, it was all that she could make out, until she had adjusted and could see him sitting there in the armchair.
Then she could start to guess the slump of his broad shoulders. The rigidness of his upper body. The bend of the horns on his forehead, slightly tilted to the side. The fingers turned into claws propping up his chin, as if his head would have been otherwise too heavy for him.
No smile. No human face. The sinking feeling of her heart continued. Already it started to ache for him as she took a step forward.
"Hey," she greeted, relief sipping into her voice even when she worried. "Welcome back."
"It is good to be back," something glinted in the dark – teeth, sharp like daggers, but she had never been worried by them – and a sound rumbled from his chest that could have been a strained chuckle. "I hope that is not my welcoming committee you have with you there."
Despite herself, Eva laughed quietly, shaking her head. Of course he could see the weapon ready to fire in her hand – to him, the room must look the same by night as it did in broad daylight. He probably could every ruffled hair on her head, every crinkle in his shirt that she had stolen for a nightshirt.
"Not for you, no," she secured the gun again, dropping it onto the nearest table she could reach. "Had it been anyone else sneaking around, perhaps."
Another rumble, this time close to a growl. "I… did not mean to frighten you, Eva. Forgive me."
"Hey, none of that," she reprimanded him gently, "You never do, remember?"
There was no answer, no quip or joke, not even a soft smile, and it made the bad feeling all the worse. Deciding that straightforward had always worked best with him, she spoke up again, "Your job didn't go well."
"No," a pause, a beat. Something red flashed in the darkness – she wasn't sure if it were his eyes or something else. "No, it did. It simply…"
He trailed off, as if he didn't have words to describe it. Instead, he made a sound that was purely demon, low and hissing, all frustration – and Eva had enough. She paused only a moment. Took into consideration that he hadn't even taken off his boots after returning home, which usually was never a good sign, or how he was still clearly on edge since he hadn't changed back, which was even worse of a sign.
The moonlight was just enough for her to be able to pick out the shadows and lines on his face that weren't there last she saw him, now that she knew what she was looking for, and all consideration went out the window. Carefully, but without hesitation, she crossed the room and reached for him. Giving him ample time to deny her if he so chose. When he didn't make a move to discourage her nor recoiled, she ventured on hopefully.
His posture was still stiff, yet he didn't stop her when she slid down to sit in his lap. As soon as she was seated comfortably and rested her chin on his shoulder, his arms came up around her, holding on tight but gently. Another tense beat - then her heart almost broke when Sparda fairly dropped to hide his face in the crook of her neck, heavy sigh fanning hotly over her collarbone. Any pride and strength that had still held him upright snapped like cut strings, and he all but curled around her, his entire hulking frame nearly burying her.
Eva didn't let the added weight deter her, knowing by heart that he would still be mindful of their differences even now. Humming comfortingly, she stroked and rubbed over his shoulders and back, dropping light kisses to any part of his face and head that she could reach.
They simply stayed liked that, wrapped up in each other, until most of the tension had bled out of him, and his breath didn't sound like bitten back growls anymore. Once she felt him nuzzle gently against her skin, thumb circling her hip, she knew he was with her again instead of far away, and said softly, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from him, "Long night?"
Another sigh, sharper this time, making his annoyance known even through his weariness. "Long night. Long day."
He didn't add you weren't there, would never have,but Eva felt guilty nonetheless for her absence, for not being at his side to calm him when he needed it. Instinctively, she held on tighter. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not much to talk about," his voice was changing, the echoes in it quieting down as his form slowly changed, the demon retreating like shadows in the morning light. Soon her fingers were gliding through soft hair instead of over horns, and human skin and clothes had replaced scales and leather.
He looked near ethereal like this, in her arms, with only the moon to illuminate him. But also so fragile, she thought with a chest too tight to breathe properly. It shouldn't even have been possible for him to look like it, but here they were.
His voice jolted her out of her musings, gravel scrapping over steel as he murmured hoarsely. "It was simply the usual."
"Sometimes it's the usual that becomes too much," she reminded him gently after musing over it for a moment. Nosing at his temple until he turned his head with a quiet grumble and let her place a kiss to his forehead, she continued. "Just because it's nothing out of the ordinary causing it, doesn't mean what you're feeling is less valid. If you want to talk about it – usual or not – I'm here, okay?"
He rumbled a sound, squeezing her tighter, but didn't protest. She took it as hesitant agreement, lips quirking into a smile. He could be so stubborn and blind sometimes, at least when it came to taking care of himself. She would never get him to admit outright that he needed comfort, too.
Knowing better than to push him on it, Eva declared, "I'm coming with you again next time. Those free days were horribly boring. You know, I think I honestly forgot how bad I am at keeping my feet still."
There was a pause, before gentle fingertips ghosted over the shoulder not occupied by him, searching and testing. "Your shoulder?"
"Healed just fine," she caught his hand in hers, squeezing comfortingly. "I'm good to go and then some."
He didn't seem fully convinced, but she hadn't expected him to be. A dislocated shoulder after getting thrown around by a demon would have been nothing for him. For her, though, it had meant taking a break from accompanying him for a few days - and having the look of confused shock followed by pure fury that had crossed his face when he had heard her pained scream permanently seared into her memory.
Pushing the image of it away as far as she could, she lifted his hand gently away from her healed shoulder, kissing the palm of it, then the frown on his forehead. His lips next, until they softened from the hard line into something more natural and he hummed a content noise against her.
She pulled back once she was sure he was effectively distracted from his worries, and nudged the tip of her nose against his, getting his attention again. There was one thing that was bothering her instead of him, and she whispered it into the space between them. "Why did you not just come to bed?"
Even in the dim light, Eva could see his gaze flick aside, trying to escape hers, and she wondered – had she been wrong in pursuing him like this? Had space been what he really needed, not her comfort?
His answer, low and quiet, was relief and surprise both at once. "I did not want to return home in a mood like this and end up waking you."
Even if her heart did a flip-flop in her chest at the words - home, said so casually, so naturally, still so new and exciting - Eva didn't show it. She hummed out a quiet laugh, fingers returning to run through silky-soft hair. "That's' it? I wasn't really sleeping anyway, so it would have been fine."
His eyes hardened again as he pulled back, question and worry written over his features clear for her to see, but she shushed him before he could get the wrong idea. "The bed was cold without you," Eva explained, biting her lip to hide her grin. Unsuccessfully so. "There's no way I can sleep like that."
Worry turned to confusion for a moment, before the first smile of the night tugged at the corner of his mouth, softening the lines of his face. He chuckled quietly, joining into the giggles she could no longer suppress.
"Apologies, mylady, for making you lose sleep like that," a brush of lips, as light as feathers touching her forehead, accompanied the half-teasing words. "Can I ever make it up to you?"
"Come to bed?" She suggested in answer. Pleaded, nearly. Reaching out to let her thumb stroke over his cheek and smiling sadly at the way he leaned into it just a tad too heavily.
There was a moment where she was sure he would said No, where the smile on his face vanished slowly and he looked at her a bit too long, something in his eyes she couldn't quite place. Then his expression softened, and the moment was gone. "I can do that."
His moves were graceful yet fast, and she couldn't even blink before he had lifted her as if she weighed nothing, carrying her bridal style to the bedroom. Laughter burst out of her, head thrown back in mirth even as she smacked his shoulder. "I can walk just fine, you silly man!"
Sharp teeth glinted in a smirk and his eyes had some of their light back as he answered. "Indulge me this once."
"This once, he says. As if I usually don't."
"Not nearly often enough," he must have seen that she was about to retort, for he didn't let her, adding quietly, "It's never enough for me when it's you."
That disarmed her effectively, and he knew it. Eva swallowed back all the banter that she had been so ready to use, and instead reached up to wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself up.
The smile, so much softer than the smirk he showed the world normally, was still there as she kissed him gently. Stayed there as he put her down in their room again, letting her climb back into bed while he dressed down before joining her. Turned into a laugh when she reached for him impatiently because he took too long with his boots, mirth dancing in his eyes when she grumbled at him.
Once they were (finally, she let him know, earning a snort) in bed, Eva safely tucked against a warm chest, strong arms around her and a familiar slow heartbeat right next to her ear, all felt right in the world again and sleep came quickly to her.
Her eyelids dropping and consciousness already slipping, she felt around until Sparda's fingers gently interwove with hers. Reassured of his presence, she murmured, "Don't worry. Things will already look better tomorrow morning."
"They are already looking a lot better right now," Sparda rumbled above her. A kiss, as gentle as a breeze, was dropped to the crown of her head. "Thank you, Eva."
"Mhm. Love you." It felt important, somehow, to remind him especially now, and no amount of sleepiness would stop her from saying it.
She might have missed his answer, already succumbing to sleep as she was, but it didn't matter.
They both knew, anyway.