Chapter 83 Sleep, Little Lamb
“So how was piano class today? Was it like how you imagined?” Ravial asked, his voice cool and even as he stood behind her, the silver-backed brush moving in slow, carefree strokes through her long, wavy curls.
Leitana sat on the stool in front of the vanity mirror, still wrapped in one of his silk robes after their bath, the fabric slipping off one golden shoulder. She smiled at his reflection, eyes bright despite the faint marks blooming on her throat and thighs.
“Mi really liked it,” she said softly, the warmth clear in her voice. “It feel… proper. Like real school. Even if Juilliard different from what mi used to, it still good. Mi meet nice people.”
Her smile widened, dreamy. “Like Ethan—he kind, help mi when mi lost. And Mia, she strong, funny in her way. Theo… oh, Theo really funny! Him always making joke, spinning around dramatic.” She giggled, mimicking Theo’s earlier twirl with her hand. “And Lila, Mikey, Kai… all of dem welcome mi like mi belong.”
Ravial’s brush never faltered, long, soothing strokes from root to tip, untangling every knot with careful precision. His blindfolded gaze stayed on her reflection, unreadable, but the corner of his mouth lifted, just barely when she laughed.
“And the playing?” he asked quietly. “Did you play for them?”
Leitana’s smile dimmed a little, but only for a second. “Mi play mi hymn. Professor Harlan… him no like it much. Say it sentimental. But mi friends like it.” She lifted her chin, stubborn spark returning. “And mi go learn the Mozart him give mi. Mi go prove.”
The brush paused at the ends of her hair, then resumed. When the last curl fell smooth and shining down her back, Ravial set the brush aside.
Leitana shot up from the stool like a spring, spinning to face him with a bright grin.
“Now yu turn!” she declared, hands on her hips, eyes sparkling with playful determination.
Ravial arched one dark brow, the picture of cool indifference. “No.”
“Yes!” She stepped closer, undeterred, reaching for his hand. “Yu always brush mi hair. Now mi brush yu own. Fair.”
“I don’t need…”
“Ravial,” she interrupted, voice soft but firm, tugging gently at his fingers. “Mi wan’ take care of yu too. Plis. Jus’ small thing.”
He looked down at her, small, wrapped in his robe, barefoot, curls tumbling wild and perfect, staring up at him with that earnest, stubborn hope that always cracked his armor in ways no one else ever could.
A long beat of silence.
Then, with an exaggerated sigh that held the faintest trace of amusement, he lowered himself onto the stool, broad shoulders filling the space, long legs stretched out.
“Fine,” he said, voice dry. “But if you pull, I bite.”
Leitana’s face lit up like sunrise. She darted behind him, picked up the brush with both hands like it was precious, and began, careful, gentle strokes through his thick, dark hair, standing on tiptoe to reach the top of his head.
“See?” she murmured happily, fingers threading lightly, smoothing strands with reverence. “Yu hair soft. Like raven feather.”
Ravial sat still, hands resting on his thighs, letting her fuss and coo and take care of him in her sweet, determined way.
And for once, the devil let himself be tended to by his lamb.
And as he sat there, he let her ramble on, listening to her and to his fascination, he found listening to her talking was never once boring or tiring to hear, she talked with such innocent excitement that he couldn’t help but listen.
“Mi wan call marita and Arti soon, never talk to dem since me come America, it not right, marita my best friend,” She said and let out a yawn, her eyes flickering close as sleep made itself known but she didn't stop combing his hair and he could see the way her eyes fluttered. He shook his head and stood up, causing her to startle up, her eyes falling open.
“Mi not done…” she started.
Ravial turned fully toward her, towering even while she stood on tiptoe, the brush now loose in her sleepy fingers. He plucked it gently from her hand, setting it aside on the vanity.
“Enough, little lamb,” he said, voice soft and smooth, laced with that faint, dry amusement only she ever drew from him. “You’re half-asleep on your feet. If you keep brushing, you’ll end up combing the air.”
Leitana blinked up at him, curls tousled, eyes heavy-lidded but still sparkling with stubborn protest. She swayed slightly, a tiny yawn escaping despite her efforts to hide it behind her hand.
“Mi not sleepy,” she mumbled, the lie adorable and obvious. “Mi wan finish… yu hair still got one knot dere…” She reached up tiredly, fingers fumbling toward a perfectly smooth strand.
Ravial caught her wrist mid-air, pulling her hand down and pressing a slow kiss to her knuckles. “Bed,” he ordered softly, no room for argument, yet the word wrapped around her like an embrace. “You’ve taken care of me. Now I take care of you.”
She pouted, small, sleepy, irresistible. “But mi strong… mi can stay up…”
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he bent and scooped her up in one effortless motion, cradling her against his chest. The silk robe slipped further off her shoulder; she didn’t even notice.
Leitana let out a surprised squeak, arms instinctively looping around his neck. “Ravial! Mi can walk!”
“No,” he said simply, already carrying her toward the massive bed. “You’ll trip again. And I’m not in the mood to catch you twice in one night.”
She buried her face against his throat, a sleepy giggle muffled against his skin. “Yu always catch mi anyway.”
His lips curved, just barely, against her curls.
“Always,” he murmured, his voice certain. “Now sleep, little lamb. Tomorrow you have a big day ahead of you..… and your little investigation to begin.”
He laid her down gently among the pillows, pulling the covers over her. She was already half-gone, eyes fluttering shut, but her fingers found his hand, tugging weakly.
“Stay?” she whispered, voice small and trusting.
Ravial slid in beside her without hesitation, pulling her back against his chest, one arm locking possessively around her waist.
“Always,” he repeated, softer this time, lips brushing the mark on her throat.
And in the quiet darkness, the devil held his lamb close, listening to her breathing even out into sleep, every secret and every heartbeat safely, irrevocably his.