When he felt her breathing even out and her body went lax against his, Sesshoumaru relaxed. For now, there would be no awkward conversations about why he was holding her, or her attempts at explaining why she had fallen so hard.
Both seemed rather obvious and he only hoped that when she woke, they could move onto something else. Like this hovel she called an apartment, and that heap she called a car. For inner pack, he had a habit of fixing things. Not many realized, but the few who did were often on the receiving ends of such fixings and could be counted on one hand, and counted on to keep their mouth shut.
Leaning back and crossing his feet on her coffee table, he was lost once again in the soft scent of her, the warm chocolate and mint, and the faintest hint of lemon from their pup, from him. Closing his eyes and content with the fact that he would wake should someone attempt to enter, it was not hard for him to slip into sleep, either.
o.O.o
Word Count - 180
