Rosewood Estate – master bedroom, night
The house was quiet for the first time in weeks.
Valentina stood at the foot of the bed, silk robe slipping off her shoulders, revealing the faint scar across her lower belly (the only reminder of what was lost).
Ethan stepped behind her, arms (both arms, new and perfect) wrapping around her waist.
She leaned back into him, eyes closing.
"Welcome home, baby."
He kissed her neck, slow and reverent.
"I never left."
The robe fell to the floor.
He lifted her gently, laid her on the bed like she was made of glass.
Valentina pulled him down, legs parting, guiding him inside with a soft, needy sigh.
No rush.
No pain tonight.
Just slow, deep strokes, bodies remembering each other.
Every thrust was a promise.
Every kiss was healing.
She cupped his face, thumbs tracing the new scars, the patch gone, the Hellfire Eye glowing soft crimson in the dark.
"My beautiful boy… all grown up… all mine again…"
He buried his face in her neck, moving deeper, steady, loving.
They came together quietly, clinging, tears mixing with sweat.
After, she stayed wrapped around him, legs locked, refusing to let go.
The ring on his finger (her soul) pulsed warmly.
The sword and scabbard on the nightstand hummed in approval.
Outside, the city rebuilt.
Inside, mother and son held each other like the world could wait.
Rosewood Estate – Friday night, one week after the hospital
The house felt… peaceful for once.
In the kitchen
Ms. Evelyn Hart stood at the stove in one of Ethan's oversized university hoodies (it hung to mid-thigh) and nothing else, humming softly while stirring creamy garlic pasta.
Her long hair was tied up in a messy bun, glasses slightly fogged from the steam.
Every few minutes she tasted the sauce, added a pinch of something, smiled to herself.
On the living-room couch
Director Selena Varkis lounged in sweatpants and a loose tank top (hair down for once, silver strands catching the TV light).
She had claimed the entire sectional, legs stretched out, a bowl of popcorn balanced on her stomach, watching some mindless action movie with the volume low.
The sword (Evelyn's soul form) leaned against the coffee table like a decoration.
The scabbard (Selena's soul form) hung casually on the wall rack beside Ethan's bike keys.
Every so often Evelyn called out:
"Five more minutes!"
Selena grunted in approval, stole another handful of popcorn.
Upstairs, faint sounds of Valentina and Ethan laughing filtered down (nothing wild tonight, just cuddling and talking).
The house smelled like garlic, butter, and home.
For the first time in months, no one was bleeding.
No one was fighting.
No one was crying.
Just four souls (three weapons, one man) finally getting one normal, quiet evening.
Evelyn plated the pasta, carried two bowls into the living room.
Selena scooted over without looking, made space.
They ate on the couch, legs tangled, movie playing.
Halfway through, Evelyn rested her head on Selena's shoulder.
Selena didn't move away.
Neither said a word.
They didn't need to.
The war was over.
For tonight, this was enough.
Master bedroom – same quiet Friday night
The lights were low, only the soft glow of the city through the curtains.
Ethan lay above Valentina, buried deep inside her, moving slow and deliberate, every thrust a promise that he was never leaving again.
She cradled his head to her chest.
He latched onto one leaking nipple, drinking warm milk in steady pulls while his hips rolled in perfect rhythm.
Wet sounds were soft, intimate (nothing like the usual storm, just two people reconnecting).
Valentina moaned into his hair, fingers threading through it, holding him close.
"My sweet boy… my everything…"
He switched to the other breast, tongue swirling, drawing more soft cries from her.
Their lips met (slow, deep, hungry kisses, tongues dancing, sharing breath and milk and love).
No words.
Just the language of bodies that had lost too much and found each other again.
Minutes stretched into an hour.
When they came, it was together (quiet, shattering, perfect).
She clenched around him, milking every drop.
He filled her, stayed inside, unwilling to separate even for a second.
They fell asleep like that (joined, tangled, hearts beating as one).
The ring on his finger pulsed warm and content.
Outside, Evelyn's pasta smelled amazing.
Inside, mother and son finally, truly came home.
Master bathroom – still the same quiet night
Steam filled the massive marble bathroom, the rain shower running hot and steady.
Ethan stood under the water, eyes closed, letting it wash away the last of the hospital smell.
Valentina slipped in behind him, arms wrapping around his waist, pressing her naked body against his back.
No words.
She reached for the soap, lathered her hands, and started washing him (slow, reverential strokes over every scar, every new line of muscle, the place where his left arm had been reborn).
He turned in her arms.
She washed his chest, his abs, lower… then dropped to her knees.
Water cascaded over both of them.
She took him into her mouth first (slow, worshipful, eyes locked on his the whole time).
He groaned, hand threading gently through her wet hair.
Minutes of pure devotion.
Then he pulled her up, turned her to face the glass wall, hands braced.
He entered her from behind, slow and deep, one arm around her waist, the other cupping a breast, thumb teasing her nipple until milk mixed with the shower water.
Every thrust was deliberate, measured, loving.
Their reflections in the fogged glass: mother and son, joined, whole again.
She reached back, fingers in his hair, pulling him into a sideways kiss (messy, desperate, tongues tangling under the spray).
No rush.
Just reclaiming what the war had tried to take.
They came together under the water, her walls fluttering, his release filling her as she moaned his name like a prayer.
After, they stayed there (him still inside, arms wrapped around her from behind, foreheads pressed to the glass, letting the water wash everything else away).
Valentina finally whispered, voice soft:
"I love you, baby.
Never leave me again."
Ethan kissed her shoulder, stayed buried deep.
"Never."
They didn't move for a long, long time.