"Race you to the train!"

"You're on!"

As the twins ran off, Henry was left behind, confused by their sibling rivalry.

He joined them somewhat later on the train, but they were already arguing.

"Oh, I was here first!" Jacob shouted.

"You wish," Evie scoffed.

"Why not call it a tie?" Henry tried, attempting to mediate between them.

"Fine!" they both exclaimed, before bursting into laughter at how ridiculous their argument was.

They had just defeated Crawford Starrick—London was theirs! For Jacob, that meant only one thing: celebration. "Oi! I'm off to celebrate with the Rooks. You in, Evie? Greenie?" he asked, practically buzzing with excitement.

Evie chuckled. "As tempting as that is, Jacob, I've hurt my shoulder and should visit Florence so she can examine it. Besides, I'd rather not be around when the partying inevitably spills onto the train."

Jacob opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "And don't pretend it won't. This'll be my first good night's sleep in weeks."

Henry glanced at Evie. "You're welcome to stay at mine. The spare bed is yours should you need it."

Evie's eyes softened. "Thank you, Henry. I'll take you up on that. Now, if you'll both excuse me." With that, she hopped off at Lambeth Station, leaving Jacob to his revelry.

As soon as Evie left, Jacob's eyes narrowed sharply, fixing on Henry. "I know exactly what you're up to, Greenie," he said with mock suspicion, trying to appear tough. "A spare bed, eh?" His hidden blade flashed slightly as he raised it for effect.

Henry's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the blade, but he held his composure, not wanting to show any unease.

Then, with a sudden grin, Jacob laughed heartily and clapped Henry on the shoulder. "Almost fooled you, Greenie. All jokes aside, I'm glad you're the one my sister's chosen. Just… look after her, alright?"

Henry exhaled, smiling. "I will," he promised, relieved Jacob wasn't out for his blood.

Evening fell, and Evie had already settled in Henry's spare bedroom. When Henry made the offer, she was probably most excited about the hot shower. Thanks to his connections, he had jumped at the chance to install indoor plumbing and a water heater when it became available a few months earlier.

She sat on the bed, as she touched her shoulder. Florence had examined it and concluded it was bruised. Evie longed for the warmth of the shower but hesitated, knowing how much pain undressing herself would cause.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Evie?" Henry's gentle voice came through the door.

"Come in," she replied.

Henry stepped inside, carrying a tray with tea and ointment. "I brought this for you," he said, his voice low, "but are you alright?". He placed the tray down, and walked towards her.

She sighed. "It's my shoulder," she admitted, wincing as she shifted slightly. "It hurts more than I thought."

Without a word, Henry moved closer, sitting beside her. His hand found its way to her shoulder, his touch being gentle. "May I?" he asked, already knowing the answer. When she nodded, his fingers traced the bruising, his eyes setting sight on the deep purple and blue marks on her skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his touch lingering as if he could take her pain away. She leaned back into him, allowing herself to rest against his chest, feeling the warmth and safety his presence offered. His arm wrapped around her, securing her gently but firmly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Evie closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent—earthy, with a hint of spice. This moment, the trust between them, made her feel more at ease than she had in days.

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, his lips warm against her cool skin. It wasn't rushed, just a quiet gesture of affection that felt natural between them now.

She turned her head slightly, her lips just inches from his, feeling the closeness between them. Their eyes met, and there was no need for words.

Henry softly kissed her, their kiss deepening. He moved to sit beside her once again, his hand tracing the line of her jaw, as though memorizing every inch of her skin. She shifted closer, her fingers brushing through his hair, pulling him nearer.

"I love you," she said softly.

"And I love you," he replied.

Henry's hand slid down to her waist, and she gave him a soft smile, her eyes full of trust and affection.

Without rushing, they began to slowly undress one another, their movements gentle, savoring every touch. As Henry leaned in to kiss her again, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them together in this moment, completely lost in one another's presence.

The night unfolded in quiet tenderness, filled with warmth and a closeness that spoke of more than passion—it was trust, devotion, and a love that deepened with every passing moment.