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The training ground was empty when Nicolas finished his cooldown laps. It felt good—his muscles burned with the effort that was needed after feeling rather restless. Lisse was in the library. He was always in the library recently.
Nicolas found him in the middle of piles of books on botanics, wearing his glasses and tracing some text with his finger, reading under his breath. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching the lighter strands of Lisse’s hair.
Beautiful. He didn't mean to say it aloud, but the words slipped under his breath without his permission.
"You've been here all day again." Nicolas tried to keep his voice light. "Don't you get tired of burying yourself in those books?"
Lisse looked up at him with a little smile. "I could ask the same about your weights."
"That's different," He countered, gesturing towards the books. "Weights build something. This just fills your head with nonsense."
"Nonsense?" Lisse raised an eyebrow. "Botanics are nonsense?"
"You're not a plant," Nicolas chuckled dismissively, crossing the room. "You're a man. A man who spends too much time with his nose buried in books and not enough time living."
"Is there something you need, Nicolas?" Lisse’s question was direct, way too direct, annoying Nicolas even further.
"I want to know why you hide here when the whole world is waiting outside." He pulled up a chair opposite Lisse, leaning back and stretching his legs out.
"I'm not hiding. I'm researching."
"Same difference."
"You’ve been different lately."
"I've been the same."
"No," Lisse continued, his voice firm. "You've been watching me. Following me to the library, the greenhouse, the kitchens. You're afraid I'll just disappear."
"I'm not afraid of anything."
"Everyone is afraid of something."
"You think you're clever, don't you? Like you can just read me like one of your books." Nicolas stood, walking around the table until he was behind Lisse, his hands resting on those tense shoulders.
"I’ve known you since we were children. I don't need books to understand you."
Nicolas leaned closer, his hands moving down his collarbone, pressing gently against his chest. Lisse’s body tensed beneath his touch. "You have to remember you belong to me."
"Ah. Is that what this is about?" Lisse’s tone was calm, but there was a slight hiss to it. "You own me now?"
"Call it whatever you like." Nicolas’s hands moved lower, tracing the line of Lisse’s jaw. "You're so fragile," his thumb brushed against Lisse’s lip. "All that knowledge, and you still tremble when I touch you."
Lisse covered Nicolas’s hands with his own. "That’s because I can choose to tremble."
"Don't," Nicolas said, the word sharper than he intended. "You don't have a choice."
"You are scared." Lisse turned in his chair.
"I'm not—"
"You are scared that I'll leave you. That I'll find someone who will treat me as an equal instead of some possession."
"I protect you because you need it. You're too soft for this world, Lisse. You forget to eat, to sleep, to take care of yourself. Someone has to do it."
"I’ve done fine on my own."
"Have you?" Nicolas leaned in. "Before Endelore, you were alone for years in that huge house, reading by candlelight, not speaking to anyone."
"I survived."
"Surviving isn't living."
"And you think you can teach me how to live?"
"Yes," Nicolas said, his hand cupping Lisse’s chin, tilting his head up so their eyes met. "I can teach you to be strong. But you don't have to think so hard. You don't have to carry the weight of the world. Let me... take care of you."
"I'm not some damsel in distress, Nicolas."
"I never said you were," His thumb traced Lisse’s lower lip. "But you do resemble one."
Lisse drew a sharp breath, eyes closing. Nicolas felt a surge of triumph.
"I know what's best for you," Nicolas whispered into his ear. "I always have. You just have to trust me."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I'll remind you. Let me take you somewhere private. Let me show you what it means to be cherished."
Lisse nodded as Nicolas pulled him to his feet.