The peaceful moment was abruptly interrupted by the soft sound of the door creaking open. I didn't need to look up to know it was Kol. His presence was unmistakable, even when he was trying to be quiet. His footsteps were measured, but when he entered the room and took in the sight of me with Nine in my lap, I could feel the tension building in the air.
I knew before he said anything that something was off. His footsteps faltered, just for a moment, before he cleared his throat. But it wasn't enough to mask the surprise—maybe even a flicker of discomfort—in his voice when he finally spoke.
"Rhea..." His voice was hesitant, the tone strained. "What the hell is this?"
I looked up at him, my fingers still softly combing through Nine's hair, trying not to disturb the delicate silence between us. I didn't answer immediately, unsure of how to explain something that didn't need an explanation, at least not to me. To me, this was natural. But Kol, he... he was still learning. Still adjusting to how things had shifted between Nine and me.
Kol's gaze flicked between me and Nine, his eyes narrowing, and I could almost see the calculations running through his mind as he took in the scene.
Then, as his eyes landed on Nine, a tense silence stretched between us.
"You... You're sitting with him like that," Kol muttered under his breath, his words heavy with disbelief. His eyes locked on the way Nine was curled against me, how his head rested gently against my neck. The contrast was almost too much.
I saw it—the flinch. A brief recoil, as if the position we were in disturbed him on a visceral level. His jaw tightened, and there was a flash of something in his gaze—something I couldn't quite place. But it was enough to make my stomach churn.
"Rhea," Kol said again, his voice lower now, more serious. "That position—he's on your lap, just like the Supreme Leader used to have him."
I felt my body freeze at the mention of the Supreme Leader. I knew exactly what Kol was referring to. The twisted way the Supreme Leader had kept Nine close to him, had kept him subdued, humiliated in that very same position. It wasn't lost on me either—how it mirrored the past, how I couldn't escape the shadow of what had been done to Nine, even now.
I looked down at Nine, my fingers still gently tracing the soft lines of his hair, the silence growing heavier in the room. It wasn't the same, I told myself. It couldn't be. Nine had come to me willingly, had sought this connection. But Kol wasn't wrong. The position, the proximity, it was hauntingly familiar. The memories of how Nine had been treated, how he'd been forced into submission by the Supreme Leader, echoed in my mind like a warning.
"Don't look at it like that," I said, my voice steady, though there was a coldness to it I couldn't fully suppress. "I'm not doing what he did. I'm not him."
Kol didn't immediately respond. His gaze softened, but there was still a heaviness to his expression, something that lingered in his eyes. He was trying to reconcile what he saw with what he knew about me, about Nine. But I could tell that seeing us in this position was difficult for him. There was too much history, too much darkness wrapped up in the way the Supreme Leader had treated Nine.
"You're not," Kol finally replied, though his voice was cautious. "But you should be careful. It's... it's easy for things to slip. To start looking like... like the things you're trying to avoid. You're both still healing from everything that's happened, and the lines—sometimes they get blurred."
I felt a sharp pang of something in my chest. It wasn't guilt, but it was close. He wasn't wrong, not entirely. The power dynamics between Nine and me, even now, were still complex. He had been conditioned, forced into submission for so long, and though he was with me willingly now, there was still so much he didn't fully understand about freedom. About autonomy. About choice.
I swallowed hard, trying to gather my thoughts before responding. "I'm not him, Kol," I said again, but this time with more force, as though I could convince myself as much as him. "This isn't the same."
I felt Nine stir in my lap, the soft movement a reminder that he was more than just a passive presence. His body shifted slightly, his head turning so he could glance up at me through tired eyes, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"I'm not him," Nine murmured softly, his voice barely audible, but the words hit me like a shock. I met his gaze, and for a brief second, I could see the vulnerability in his eyes. The unspoken fear of returning to that place. The uncertainty of whether I would, too, turn into someone who would treat him the way the Supreme Leader had.
"You're not him," I reassured him, my voice softening as I stroked his hair once more, my thumb tracing the delicate curve of his ear. "You're safe here. With me."
Kol stood there for a moment longer, his eyes flicking between us. His brow furrowed, and I could see the unease still written on his face, but he didn't press the issue further. He knew, at least for now, that he wouldn't get anywhere with his concerns. I wasn't about to let anyone—least of all him—ruin this fragile peace that we had built.
He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he nodded. "Alright," he said, but there was still a hesitation in his voice. "Just... just be careful. I don't want to see you both fall into something like that again. You're both too important."
I didn't say anything else. I couldn't. The weight of his words lingered in the air, and I knew that Kol had a point. But it was too late to go back now. What I had with Nine wasn't perfect, and it wasn't easy. But it was real. And in this fucked-up world, real was more than I could ever ask for.
As Kol turned to leave, I allowed myself to sink back into the moment. I looked down at Nine, who had closed his eyes again, his breathing slow and even, trusting me completely.
Maybe Kol was right to be cautious. But I couldn't help the way my heart swelled when I thought about Nine, about how far we'd come. I would protect this. I would protect him—no matter what.