Safe in Your Arms — Tala X Julia
The streets of Barcelona hummed with a late-night lull, the distant sounds of laughter and music floating up through the apartment window. The warm Spanish air was still unfamiliar to Tala, whose body was conditioned to the bitter cold of Russia. Even after weeks of staying here, he found himself restless, unable to sleep soundly in this new place.
Julia, on the other hand, was completely at home. Spain was her city, her comfort zone. She had been the one to insist Tala stay with her while he was in town for work. He had resisted at first, grumbling about independence, but she had shut him down with a single smirk and the promise of good company. And just like that, they'd spent the past few weeks together, navigating the early stages of their relationship—something both thrilling and unfamiliar to them.
Tonight, Julia had forgotten something in the guest room, where Tala had been sleeping. She had been up late reading, but when she realized her notebook was in there, she got up to retrieve it. Not expecting much, she tiptoed into the dimly lit room, planning to be quick and quiet. But the moment she entered, she froze.
Tala was shirtless, sprawled across the bed, his face twisted in distress. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and his fists clutched at the sheets. Sweat glistened on his forehead, his usually sharp, intimidating features softened by the vulnerability of sleep.
Julia's heart clenched.
She had never seen him like this.
Without hesitation, she moved closer, kneeling by the bed. "Tala," she whispered gently, touching his arm. He didn't wake. His brows furrowed deeper, his breath hitching as if he was trapped in some distant nightmare.
She hesitated only a moment before slipping her fingers into his, squeezing his hand.
"I'm here," she murmured softly. "You're okay."
His grip on her hand was weak at first, then slowly tightened, as if anchoring himself to reality. After a few more moments, his eyelids fluttered, his breaths coming slower, steadier. He woke up with a sharp intake of breath, his icy lavender eyes darting around in panic before landing on her.
For a second, he just stared. Then, without a word, he sat up and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Julia was caught off guard at first, her body stiffening in surprise. But as she felt the tremble in his hands, she melted, wrapping her arms around him in return. He buried his face in her shoulder, his breathing uneven.
"It's okay, Tala," she whispered, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "I've got you."
He didn't reply immediately, only holding her tighter.
After a long pause, his voice came out low and raw. "...I hate this."
Julia pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face. His usual cold, unreadable mask was gone, replaced by something fragile—something even Bryan and Spencer had probably never witnessed.
"Was it a nightmare?" she guessed.
Tala nodded once, running a hand through his sweat-dampened red hair. His voice was barely above a whisper. "It was... back when I was training under Boris. The things he did to us—the pain, the isolation... I never let myself think about it. But sometimes, it just... comes back."
Julia's heart ached for him.
She knew some of it. She had heard about the cruel, inhuman training that Tala and the others had endured at the Abbey. But hearing about it and seeing the lingering trauma firsthand were two very different things.
Without thinking, she leaned in and pressed a small kiss against his shoulder. Then another, this time on his neck. Not in an intimate way—just soft, comforting touches to remind him he wasn't alone.
"You're safe now," she whispered against his skin. "No one can hurt you anymore, Tala."
His body gradually relaxed under her touch. He exhaled slowly, the tension in his muscles easing as Julia rubbed his back in gentle strokes. For a while, they just sat there, wrapped up in each other.
Then, in a rare moment of openness, Tala asked, "And you? What was your childhood like?"
Julia hesitated. She rarely spoke about her past. But seeing him this vulnerable made her want to share a part of herself, too.
"It wasn't great," she admitted. "I mean, I had Raul, and he was my rock, and I was his rock too but… growing up, I always felt like I had to prove myself, alongside pushing Raul to do better. No one took me seriously. I wasn't strong enough, fast enough, good enough. So I fought harder. And for the longest time, I thought that if I kept fighting, maybe I'd be enough for the world." She let out a small, self-deprecating laugh. "Then Romero came. And life changed, or should I say better? He gave us valuable life lessons with simple examples, to say the least. Things didn't exactly become easy but everyday we learnt something, with Romero's guidance. Turns out, I didn't need to prove myself to the world. I just needed to accept that I was enough for myself."
Tala was silent, his gaze intense as he studied her face. Then, after a beat, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"You were always enough, Julia," he murmured.
The way he said it made her breath hitch.
Her gaze flickered to his lips, and without thinking, she leaned in. Tala met her halfway, their lips brushing softly at first—uncertain, testing. But then something shifted. The vulnerability, the unspoken emotions, the need—it all spilled into the kiss, deepening it.
Tala pulled her closer, one hand tangling in her hair while the other rested on her waist. Julia's hands slid up his bare back, feeling the warmth of his skin against her palms. Their kiss wasn't rushed or desperate; it was slow, deep, filled with quiet understanding.
When they finally pulled apart, their breaths mingled, foreheads resting against each other.
"Stay," Tala murmured, his voice barely audible.
Julia smiled softly, cupping one side of his face. "I will."
She shifted, settling beside him in the bed, and he pulled her close once more, wrapping his arms around her.
"I love you," he murmured against her hair.
A warmth spread through her chest. She tilted her head up slightly, pressing a small kiss to his jaw. "I love you too, Tala."
Julia shifted slightly, pressing herself closer against him, her fingers tracing slow, feather-light patterns along his spine. Tala let out a quiet breath, his hold tightening around her as if afraid she might slip away.
"You're really warm," she murmured against his skin, half teasing, half mesmerized by the way his body heat surrounded her.
Tala huffed a soft laugh, the sound low and rough. "Spain is too warm," he muttered, and Julia felt the deep vibrations of his voice against her lips.
Smirking, she tilted her head, brushing another kiss along the curve of his jaw. "And yet, you're the one burning up right now."
His sharp inhale was all the confirmation she needed. Encouraged, she trailed her lips down to the base of his throat, her hands slipping over the firm lines of his back. Tala's breathing grew uneven, and when she bit down softly on his shoulder—just enough to leave a faint mark—he let out a low sound, his grip on her hips tightening.
"Julia," he warned, his voice strained.
She pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in her emerald eyes. "What?"
Tala's eyes darkened, and in one smooth motion, he flipped them so that she was pinned beneath him. Julia let out a breathy laugh, fingers curling against his chest as he loomed over her. His hair was still damp with sweat, but his expression was no longer tense. Instead, there was something else—something raw, intense, and entirely focused on her.
"You really don't know when to stop, do you?" he murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
She arched a brow. "And yet, you're not stopping me."
Tala didn't respond. Instead, he dipped his head, capturing her lips in a slow, consuming kiss. This one wasn't hesitant or uncertain—it was deep, claiming, filled with emotions neither of them had spoken aloud until now.
Julia gasped softly against his mouth, her fingers tightening against his skin as his lips moved over hers, slow and deliberate. His weight pressed against her, grounding her, as his hands roamed over her waist, fingers skimming the fabric of her thin tank top.
The heat between them built steadily, neither rushing nor pulling away. Every kiss, every touch was a silent promise—one that neither of them needed to put into words.
Tala pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. "You're dangerous," he muttered, voice thick with emotion.
Julia smirked, running her hands up his arms. "And yet, you're the one holding on to me."
He exhaled a quiet chuckle before pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. "I don't plan on letting go."
They stayed like that for a long time, wrapped in warmth, in each other, in the safety of knowing they didn't have to face their pasts alone.
Eventually, Julia let out a sleepy sigh, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. Tala held her close, his grip firm but gentle, as she nuzzled against his chest.
"I love you," she murmured drowsily.
Tala's lips brushed the top of her head. "I love you too."
And for the first time in years, the nightmares didn't come.
For the first time in a long, long while, Tala slept peacefully. And this time, when he dreamed, it wasn't of the past.
It was of a future—one where he wasn't alone anymore.
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END
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