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The sky is still dark, as you make your way through the silent streets of Belobog. It is late--or perhaps early-- enough that the 3 am drunks are already home.
Every now and then you pass newspaper boys leaving the morning paper on doorsteps before even the next earliest of risers have a chance to roll out of bed.
You yawn as you pull your jacket tighter around you. Even with the geomarrow keeping the city warm, the night will always hold a lonely sort of chill.
You hasten your steps, leaving the main city for the neighborhood that houses many of the Silvermane guards.
This neighborhood, while no warmer than anywhere else in the city--Gepard would be pissed if they were treated with any favoritism--is significantly neater than yours. The discipline and cleanliness instilled in every guard-in-training lasts a lifetime.
It doesn’t take long to reach your destination once you’ve turned off the main road and soon you’re standing in front of Gepard’s home.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
You shift from one foot to another while you listen to the doorbell ring.
A few moments later, Gepard opens the door, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
He frowns when he sees you. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”
“Bad night,” you respond, staring at your toes. “Didn’t want to be home alone.”
Gepard pushes the door open a motions for you to come in.
The door shuts behind you and you follow Gepard into his living room.
You find your usual place on his couch and wrap your arms around your knees. Gepard takes a seat on the other side of the couch, giving you as much room as you sometimes need.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again. “You wouldn’t have sought me out if you wanted to leave it at ‘a bad night’.”
You hum noncommittally. He’s not wrong. He’s seen the hurt in your heart, heard the events of the past and has neither pitied nor judged you. Instead he offers a safe space to speak, to feel; simply offering his simple, unwavering strength whenever you find yourself in need of it.
“It’s not as bad as it’s been. I’ve been able to keep from blaming myself, but the memories are still there, on the fringe. They’ve spent a lot of the night nagging at me. I thought that maybe your company might drive them away a little.”
“Ah. Are you alright with physical contact?”
You nod. “I think it would help.”
Gepard reaches out and pulls you close to him. You bury your face in his t-shirt, breathing in the scent of snow and soap that always seems to cling to him.
“I’ve been up all night, tossing and turning, thinking through what happened and reminding myself that nothing that happened was my fault. It’s exhausting.”
“I know. You should have come to me earlier.”
“But you need sleep too.”
Gepard sighs. “I’ve told you that I sleep just as well with you here.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad, but then I realized I wasn’t going to sleep if I stayed by myself.”
“Then sleep now. I don’t have anything particularly pressing in the morning, so I’ll be here.”
You shift so that your ear is pressed against his chest.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Gepard’s heart-beat, the driving force of your storm shelter lulling you into much needed sleep.