The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Valentine stood near the edge of the bed, unsure, her fingers slightly curled as the cold metal of the handcuff rested against her wrist.
Artavius moved away from her without a word, pulling his wrist along with hers just enough to guide her.
"There," he said shortly.
She sat.
Slowly.
Still watching him.
He didn't look at her again.
Instead, he walked toward the couch across the room, grabbing a blanket and tossing it over it casually.
Valentine frowned.
"You're… sleeping there?"
Artavius glanced at her for a brief second.
"Obviously."
She looked at the distance between the bed and the couch.
Then at the handcuffs.
"…how?"
He didn't answer.
Just sat down.
The chain stretched slightly between them.
Not enough to break.
But enough to remind them—
they weren't free.
Minutes passed.
Neither spoke.
Valentine lay down stiffly, keeping as much distance as possible, her back turned toward him.
Her eyes stayed open.
The darkness felt different here.
Not like the basement.
But still unfamiliar.
Still unsettling.
She shifted slightly.
The chain moved.
A soft metallic sound echoed in the silence.
Artavius didn't react.
But he wasn't asleep.
"You're not sleeping?" she asked quietly.
"No."
"…why?"
A pause.
Then—
"I don't sleep easily."
His voice was calm.
But there was something heavier beneath it.
Valentine didn't reply.
She didn't ask more.
Time passed.
Slowly.
Her eyes started to close.
Her breathing softened.
And eventually—
she fell asleep.
Artavius sat there, unmoving.
His gaze drifted toward her.
She looked different now.
Not angry.
Not fighting.
Just… quiet.
Her hair spread softly across the pillow, slightly messy, her face relaxed in sleep.
For a moment—
he just watched.
Then looked away.
Annoyed.
"…troublesome," he muttered.
A cold breeze slipped through the slightly open window.
Valentine shifted.
Her hands instinctively pulling closer to herself.
The blanket had slipped.
Half of it falling off her shoulder.
She shivered faintly.
Artavius noticed.
Of course he did.
He stared for a second.
Then looked away again.
"…not my problem."
Silence.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
a quiet sigh.
He stood up.
Walked toward the bed.
Carefully.
So the chain wouldn't make noise.
He stopped beside her.
Looked at her for a moment.
Then—
slowly pulled the blanket up, covering her properly.
Tucking it slightly near her shoulder.
His movements were precise.
Controlled.
Like he didn't want to disturb her.
For a second—
his hand paused.
Close to her.
Too close.
He froze.
Then quickly pulled it back.
His jaw tightened slightly.
"…this is unnecessary," he muttered under his breath.
But he didn't sound convinced.
He stepped back.
Returned to the couch.
Sat down again.
This time—
leaning his head back.
Closing his eyes.
The chain rested quietly between them.
Not tight.
Not loose.
Just there.
And in that silent room—
for the first time—
neither of them felt completely alone.