Under One Roof

Under One Roof
Kael

Evander heads out with a list and that quiet look he gets when he’s already reorganising the world in his head. Food, supplies, things that don’t taste like survival rations or whatever the hell the Shadow Realm calls fresh these days. I watch him go from the doorway, then glance back at Allison, still curled on the edge of the bed, shoulders loose, hair a mess, eyes heavy but bright. That’s my cue.
“Come on, trouble,” I say, pushing off the couch and holding out my hand with my most charming smile. “You stink.”
She rolls her eyes the way she always has, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth even as she bites it back. “You stink.”
I sniff my armpit and gag dramatically. “You’re right. We’re both absolutely foul. It’s a crisis.”
She snorts, soft and tired, and before she can change her mind, I lean in a little closer. “We should shower. Together. For safety reasons.”
Her eyebrow lifts. “Safety.”
“Very dangerous,” I say. “Soap involved. Slippery floors. Moral support is required.”
She sighs like she’s already lost the argument, but she takes my hand anyway, fingers warm against mine, and lets me pull her up. Cassian moves first, already leaning in to press a kiss to her temple.
“I’ll get clothes and a few things,” he says. “Don’t disappear.”
Christopher mirrors him without even thinking about it, stepping in to kiss her softly once. “I’ll be back soon.”
I glance at Rhaziel and shrug. “Shower?”
He nods once, then, without warning, he bends and lifts Allison easily over his shoulder like she weighs nothing at all. She yelps and then laughs, the sound loose and bright, one arm bracing against his back as he walks straight toward the bathroom like this is the most normal thing in the world. I follow, grinning. The bathroom fills with steam fast. Warm water, tiled walls, the familiar space suddenly crowded in the best way. Rhaziel sets Allison down carefully this time, hands steady at her waist until she’s balanced. She looks up at him, still smiling, then turns to me.
“You’re all ridiculous.”
“Correct,” I say. “But we’re thorough.”

I help her out of her clothes slowly, not because she needs the help, but because she lets me. Because her shoulders ease when my hands move over her arms, when I peel fabric away and replace it with warmth. Rhaziel steps in behind her, fingers brushing her hair back so it doesn’t stick to her face. The water hits her shoulders, and she exhales like her body’s been holding something too tight for too long. I grab the soap and work it between my hands before sliding it over her arms, her back and being careful around her throat. The burn is still there, faint but there. A stupid mark I can't magically erase from happening. I don’t comment on it. I just adjust and promise to all the gods that if anyone ever touches her like that again, they will die a very slow and very painful death. Rhaziel’s hands come in next, slow and deliberate, steadying her as she leans into the spray. He presses his forehead briefly to the back of her head. The ridiculous mountain of a demon hunching over her in such a soft gesture. I rinse the soap away and step back enough to give her space, watching the water run clear, watching the way she stands there, eyes closed and breathing evenly.
“You okay, trouble?” I ask.
She nods once. “Yeah.”
Good enough for me. We finish quickly and efficiently. We all know the line between care and overwhelming. Rhaziel pulls out towels that feel warm and thick, wrapping one around her shoulders before she can even ask. Rhaziel steps out of the room first, giving us space again, shadows retreating with him. I help her dry her hair gently, fingers working through damp strands until they stop dripping down her back. She leans into my chest for a moment, forehead pressing lightly against my collarbone, and I let myself stay still.
When we step back into the room, the air smells different. Food. Actual food. Thank fuck. Something warm and rich and unmistakably real. My stomach growls loud and needy.
“All right,” I mutter. “That be done soon.”
"Little bit longer," Evander says shooing me out of the kitchen.
Cassian and Christopher are on the floor by the wardrobe, surrounded by neat piles of clothes. Shirts folded. Pants stacked. A growing collection that makes the attic feel like it’s expanding to accommodate us instead of resisting.
Cassian doesn’t look up. “Closet’s too small.”
“I assumed,” I say. “Please tell me you ordered a massive one of those, too.”
“Yes,” he replies calmly. “Reinforced with extra hanging space.”
Christopher glances up and smiles faintly. “Hopefully it fits.”
Allison stops in the doorway, towel wrapped around her, hair damp, eyes moving over the room. Over us. Over the way things are already rearranging themselves around her. She looks stunned for half a second, then she laughs.
I step in close and bump her shoulder lightly with mine. “Told you we’d sort it.”
She looks up at me. “Brains and a beauty, you are impressive.” She jokes, but I'm taking it as a compliment anyway.
Rhaziel sits on the bed, arms folded, watching the scene like he’s filing it away somewhere permanent.
I gesture toward the bed. “Sit, baby. Food’s almost ready.”
She does, curling her legs beneath her, towel slipping a little as she settles against Rhaziel. I shuffle around the two on the floor and open the closet to find her pyjamas, preferably something silky so it's soft on her skin...and against mine.
I pause with the pyjamas in my hands and look back at her, towel slipping, hair damp, cheeks flushed with warmth instead of danger. The room hums around us. Food is cooking. Clothes are being folded. Bodies are held close. I grin to myself and shut the closet gently. Yeah. This is it. The war’s done, the house is full, now we get to breathe.