intrepidity

Chapter 39

Aiden smoothed a hand down her hair, his touch gentle but firm, almost protective. "You're alright now, little one," he said quietly, his voice soothing as it always was in moments like these. "There's nothing in this house that could hurt you. And if there was, it wouldn't survive five seconds with me."

Aurora nodded again, her small frame still trembling slightly, but not from fear—more from the aftereffects of the adrenaline, the lingering edge of terror that had kept her awake. Her grip on his shirt hadn't loosened, though. Her hands still clung to him like a lifeline.

Aiden let out a soft breath and leaned back against the pillows, his arm still protectively around her. His other hand went to rest behind his head, his fingers lightly brushing the soft pillow. He glanced down at her, his eyes unreadable but soft around the edges.

"Would you like me to stay awake a little longer?" he asked, his voice even quieter now, more of a gentle offer than a question.

Aurora didn't answer with words, but the way she curled closer to him, pressing her ear to his chest, said it all.

That was all he needed. He shifted a little, adjusting his position so she could settle more comfortably against him, her body nestled beneath the warmth of the blankets and the quiet steadiness of his presence.

Aiden remained still, his heartbeats steady beneath her cheek, and she soon relaxed, the trembling finally ceasing as sleep crept up on her. His hand moved, just barely, to brush her hair back from her forehead. The action was soft, careful. Like he knew—she was his responsibility. His soft spot, his most cherished and delicate piece of this chaotic world.

His lips twitched upward, an amused but fond glimmer crossing his features. Aurora, of course, had no idea how this worked. She had no idea how much power she held over him.

But he did. And Aiden—always the calm, collected older brother—would never admit it aloud, but in moments like this, with her asleep on his chest, her warmth a steady presence against his side, he knew his whole world was just a little bit softer.

-

The next morning, the twins were back on the couch—this time drinking coffee like it was a religious experience.

Antonio looked up as Aiden entered the kitchen, one hand resting lightly on Aurora's back as she leaned sleepily into his side. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks puffy with sleep, and her voice barely more than a whisper as she asked for chocolate milk.

Antonio blinked. "Wait, she stayed with you?"

Atlas looked offended. "She came to you? What am I? Chopped liver?"

"She was standing outside my door at two in the morning," Aiden said calmly, "wrapped in a blanket, visibly shaking, and all but holding up a sign that said 'please pick me up.' I wasn't about to send her back to her room."

"She told us she'd be fine," Atlas muttered.

"She insisted," Antonio added. "Said she was brave."

"She lied," Aiden said, voice dry. "Or at the very least, she overestimated her own courage. And you two enabled it."

Aurora looked up at them blearily from the kitchen stool, blinking owlishly. "I tried really hard to be brave."

"I'm aware, sorellina," Aiden said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "But next time, let's be realistic about your tolerance for horror films."

Antonio rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry. We didn't think it'd mess her up that bad."

"She was hiding in the closet," Aiden replied dryly. "I imagine it did."