Fidget was incensed. She was informed about the situation with Melodia moving into Elediah’s Trail whilst she was in the middle of preparing dinner, and as a result, the stew contained the most roughly butchered, mangled chunks of squirrel meat that any of them had ever eaten. Though Lunette vocally disapproved of Arvel’s choice to tell Fidget while she was holding onto a knife, Arvel was just relieved that she took her frustration out on the squirrel.

That night, everyone settled into the ‘sleeping den’ that Fidget had so carefully been arranging. The bed had been stripped of all its sheets and pillows, which were now strategically layered in piles on the floor along with every extra cushion and spare blanket that Arvel owned for the winter. The mattress was now a place where laundry got folded, and the new ‘bed’ spread across the floor from the edge of the room to the other, with only a narrow space to walk from the door to the chest of drawers without stepping on the bedding.

Arvel had taken to sleeping in a pair of loose cotton trousers with a thin cord strung through the belt loops to hold it in place. He laid squarely in the middle of the bedding, as he insisted was his right; if he had to give up on sleeping naked at night, he at least got to sprawl out as he pleased, and the rest of them needed to work around him.

That said, Fidget was the only one doing any real sprawling. While Arvel tended to pick one spot and lay in it, Fidget frequently migrated across the bed, turning at all odd angles. Sometimes she even woke up in the morning with her feet up on the pillows. Furthermore, she was perfectly content to throw all her clothes in a pile in the corner and sleep completely naked, draped over anyone and everyone as the mood suited her.

Lunette had finally begun to relax enough to eschew her trousers when she slept, though she still kept one of Arvel’s long sleeved button-up shirts that he had given her when she was recovering. It no longer draped off of her as a baggy garment, and it hung just past her modest bloomers, but she had staked her claim on it just the same. She laid down beside Arvel, and on that particular night, Fidget had decided to flop on top of her, using Lunette’s chest for a pillow.

Rain lingered in the kitchen, slow to clean and put away things until after everyone else was already in bed. When she slipped in, the lamp had already been blown out, and she began to disrobe in darkness at the foot of the bedding. Once she laid her garments aside, she crawled onto the bedding, feeling around to make sure she wasn’t going to put a hand or knee on anyone, before she laid down beside Arvel, opposite of Lunette and Fidget.

Softly sighing, Rain rolled onto her side with her back to him. But only a moment later, she felt his arm wrap around her waist as Arvel rolled onto his side too, and his other arm tucked under her head like a pillow to wrap around her shoulders. Rain gasped faintly, but managed to keep her voice down.

“I-I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered.

“You didn’t,” he said softly, “I was waitin’.”

Rain’s brow furrowed, and she murmured “You didn’t have to do that.”

Arvel wrapped his arm more tightly around Rain, pulling her body back against his until she was nestled against him. Her back was pressed to his chest, with only her lacy camisole between them, and her backside clad in ruffled bloomers was pulled against his lap.

“Were you waitin’ on me to drift off?” he asked, leaning close by her ear.

Rain bit her lip, quiet.

“Ain’t like we get a lot of time to talk,” Arvel whispered, “and you been actin’ real squirrely around me lately. You don’t want to be alone with me, but ya ain’t actin’ like you’re scared of me or nothin’.”

Rain huffed softly and said, “Maybe I should be. Considering you find me ‘infuriating’.”

“You hold onto damn near everything, don’t you?” Arvel asked, “Every word I say, you tuck away for a rainy day to find somethin’ to get mad about.”

“It’s not like that,” she muttered softly, “I don’t spend all day thinking about the things you do that annoy me. I... I am actually pretty happy most of the time. If you annoy me, or say something that bothers me, it rolls right off my back a moment later. I don’t think about those kinds of things at all, and I practically forget about them. You make me happy. ...But when you make me angry, every single thing you’ve ever done to bother me all comes bubbling back up.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Arvel was quiet for a moment.

“Y’know that’s a load of bullshite, right?” he asked quietly, “If ya can’t talk to me about what’s botherin’ ya when it bothers ya, don’t go tuckin’ it away to get mad about later.”

“So what am I supposed to do about it?” she asked, “Just ‘don’t get mad’?”

“Get mad!” he replied, nuzzling a little closer to her ear, so that their conversation didn’t wake the others; “Get pissed off at me. Tell me when I’m screwin’ up, or at least, when I’m upsettin’ ya. But you gotta tell me when it’s happening. Tell me when I can actually do somethin’ about it.”

Rain squirmed a bit in the tight confines of his grasp, and said, “You know that I was raised to be unerringly polite and tactful. That’s hard for me to do.”

“You think I don’t do stuff that’s hard all the time for you, and Fidge, and Lunette?” Arvel asked, “It’s what you do when you care about somebody.”

After a quiet moment, Rain asked, “...and for Melodia?”

Arvel fell silent.

Rain tilted her head to look back over her shoulder, her face near to his, and she whispered quietly, “I’m not angry about it anymore. I owe you an apology.”

“You do?” Arvel asked, blinking at her in surprise. He then set his jaw and nodded, rephrasing himself; “Yeah you do.”

Rain smiled a little, before laying her head back down on his bicep.

“I’ve misjudged you terribly,” she whispered, “I have been selfish with your feelings. I have been comfortable and complacent receiving your care and kindness, and judgemental when you show it to others if I don’t deem them ‘worthy’ of it. But it isn’t about whether or not someone else deserves your love... I imagine if you could snap your fingers and stop caring about Melodia, you would. But you’re not like that. And I don’t think you’d be as precious a person as you are, if you could.”

Arvel was quiet, but he held her a little more tightly as he listened.

“You said love me in spite of everything,” Rain whispered, “In spite of all of the trouble that I’ve put you through. You have plenty of reasons not to. And I want to change that. I may not be as steadfast and reliable as Ser Lunette, or as passionate and unreserved as Fidget, but... I want to be a better person. I want to be a person who is deserving of your love.”

Arvel hugged Rain close to him, burying his face against the side of her neck. She could feel the quiver in his arms as he clung to her.

“That ain’t a thing you gotta earn,” Arvel whispered, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes. His voice strained, but he managed not to let it crack as he told her, “Don’t try to be a better person to make yourself ‘worthy’. Be a better person for the people that you love. Do it because you want to do right by them.”

Rain tilted her head back, and gently nuzzled against Arvel’s hair, before whispering, “I want to be a better person for you.”

Arvel hugged her tighter, a hand gripping the strap of her lacy camisole, the other hand curling at its hem. He took a deep breath of the scent of her hair, and a shaky exhale as his grip began to relax. He nuzzled between the strands of her hair, and his lips brushed against the side of her neck. Rain let out a soft ‘ah’ before lifting a hand to cover her mouth.

“Y’know,” Arvel whispered, his lips brushing the shell of Rain’s ear, “Fidge could sleep through an earthquake.”

“And Lunette could be woken by a mouse’s footsteps,” Rain whispered, gently pushing at Arvel’s arm around her waist.

Arvel’s arm relaxed, but his hand crept a little lower. His fingertips brushed along the warm, soft skin of her tummy before they slid over the waistband of her bloomers. He curled a finger around one of the ribbons of the drawstring that held her bloomers in place, before giving it a gentle tug.

“Guess you oughta be quieter ‘n a mouse then,” Arvel whispered.

“A-Are you crazy?” Rain stammered, “What if someone hears us?”

“That ain’t a ‘no’,” Arvel replied, slipping the strap of her camisole down her fair shoulder as his lips trailed along her jaw and the side of her neck.

Rain let out a soft whine as her only sign of protest, gently squirming in his arms but making no earnest effort to escape him or stop him.

“Is this one of those ‘noble lady’ things?” Arvel asked, “Ya can’t admit ya want somethin’ so you just act slightly resistant so ya don’t look easy? What’d they call those books I used to see women tradin’ around at the market like some kinda dirty secret... ‘shirt rippers’ or, no, ‘bodice rippers’ was it?”

Rain’s face turned bright red, and she lightly smacked Arvel’s arm, saying, “It’s not like that!”

“Oh, it ain’t?” Arvel asked, lifting his head to look down at her. Slowly, he moved his hand from her camisole up to cover her mouth, pressing his palm over her lips and curling his fingertips along her jaw, careful not to press over her nose.

Rain’s eyes widened, gasping sharply in through her nose, and her cheeks burned under his grasp.

“Y’could kick if y’wanted,” Arvel said, “Or hells, bite my hand if you needed. You got all kinda ways to tell me you don’t like somethin’, to tell me to stop. And if you do even one thing like that, I’ll leave ya alone. I promise I won’t be mad or nothin’. Won’t even have to talk about it if ya don’t want.”

Rain glanced away, quietly, laying still in his grasp.

Arvel smirked, and leaned down to kiss the side of her neck, whispering, “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”