“Always,” Tilly replied.
Savannah’s voice dropped. “Would it be okay if you… held me?”
The answer was immediate.
“Yeah,” Tilly said softly. “Come here.”
They shifted carefully, easing closer, one arm sliding around Savannah’s shoulders, then the other, drawing her in without trapping her. Savannah let herself go, curling into them, her forehead resting against Tilly’s chest.
Tilly adjusted the blanket again, tucking it securely around her back, their chin resting lightly against Savannah’s hair.
There was no rush. No pressure to settle a certain way. Just warmth. Steady and grounding.
Savannah breathed in, then out. Her shoulders shook once, a small, silent release, and then she relaxed fully into Tilly’s hold.
“Oh,” she whispered, the word barely there.
Tilly’s arms tightened just a little, steady and sure.
They stayed like that, the room quiet except for the soft rhythm of their breathing. Savannah focused on the simple things. The warmth at her back. The way Tilly’s hand rested on her arm. The fact that no one was asking anything of her.
After a minute, she laughed softly into Tilly’s chest. “I’m sorry. I think I just needed a second.”
“That’s okay,” Tilly said. “You’ve got all the seconds you want.”
Savannah nodded, eyes still damp, and let herself settle.
The quiet didn’t feel sharp anymore.
It felt full.
Forty One
Tilly woke to weight.
Not heavy. Not uncomfortable. Just present. Savannah curled into their chest, warm and solid, her breathing slow and even. One of Tilly’s arms was looped around her middle, familiar enough now that they didn’t remember deciding to put it there.
They stayed still.
Savannah slept like she meant it, loose and unguarded in a way that told Tilly more than anything she’d said the night before. Her hand was tucked between them, fingers slack, the blanket pulled high around her shoulders where Tilly had left it.
Good.
Tilly adjusted their grip slightly, more instinct than thought, keeping their arm steady when Savannah shifted in her sleep. She made a small sound, barely audible, and settled again.
Tilly exhaled and let their eyes close for another second.
Mornings usually came with a mental checklist. Time. Plans. What needed to be done next? Today, there was none of that urgency. Just Savannah breathing against them and the quiet hum of the room starting to wake.
They noticed the change before she did. The way her breathing shifted. The faint tension that came and went in her shoulders as she hovered between sleep and waking.
Tilly didn’t rush it.
When Savannah stirred, she was careful. Like she was testing the ground before committing her weight. Tilly kept their arm where it was, loose and unmistakably there.
She shifted again, closer this time.
Tilly tipped their chin down, resting it lightly against the top of Savannah’s head.
