(Third Person).
Meredith shook her head. "Not yet. I wasn't hungry."
Draven frowned. "You bled. You need strength to recover."
She looked up at him, her violet eyes gleaming faintly under the soft light. "I will eat soon. Don't worry so much."
But he leaned forward, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. "I will be right back," he murmured against her skin. "You're eating tonight, whether you like it or not."
That earned him a quiet laugh from her. "You sound like Madam Beatrice."
"Good," he said, standing up with that faint, knowing smirk. "Maybe you will actually listen."
Meredith smiled as he turned and made his way to the door. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he left, the faint sound of his retreating footsteps echoing softly down the corridor.
When the door clicked shut, she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and leaned back against the pillows, the corners of her lips lifting slightly.
---
