Chapter Text
His face lights up with interest at Noa's answer, and he finishes his own bite before responding.
"Oh, Korean hot pot is an good choice—there's something really satisfying about cooking your own food at the table and customizing exactly what goes in it. Plus it's one of those meals that's meant to be social and take time, which I appreciate."He stands and takes both their plates, moving to the sink to rinse them off. "There's actually a really good Korean BBQ and hot pot place about twenty minutes from here that does individual pots if you don't want to share. We should go sometime when you're not exhausted from exams and curse encounters."
He loads the plates into the dishwasher with surprising domesticity for someone who presents himself as such a powerful sorcerer, then turns back to face her, leaning against the counter. "So, door security for tonight. Let me grab that door alarm I mentioned and show you how it works, and then you can decide if that's enough or if you want me to help you move furniture or something."
He walks past the chair she's in toward what appears to be a utility closet down the hall, returning a moment later with a small wedge-shaped device that has a keypad on top, "This thing is stupidly loud if someone tries to open the door—like, wake-the-dead loud. You wedge it under the door, turn it on with this code, and then if the door moves at all it screams. I use them when I stay in hotels on missions and don't trust the security."
He holds it out for her to examine, "Want to go test it in the guest room and see if it'll work for tonight? And I meant what I said about the lock tomorrow—I'll have someone here first thing in the morning to install a proper one."
She holds the device in her hand before looking down, trying her best to look at him as she gathers the nerve to say the next thing out of her mouth, "Um,.... if you're really serious about me being able to sleep here for the night until the lock arrives tomorrow, then can I make a request just for tonight?"
She breathes in deeply, "Can I sleep in the bathroom in the bathtub instead?"
She has her eyes squeezed shut, already anticipating the 'no' from him along with the questioning stare.
There's a moment of complete silence from him, and when she finally opens her eyes to look at him, his expression is complicated—a mix of concern, sadness, and something protective that makes his jaw tighten slightly. But there's absolutely no judgment in his eyes, just careful understanding.
"You can absolutely sleep in the bathtub if that's what makes you feel safe," he says quietly, his voice steady and sincere, "The bathroom has a lock, it's contained, you can control the space. I get it."
He runs a hand through his white hair, thinking through something, then looks at her with those intense blue eyes."But here's what I'm thinking—that can't be comfortable for a whole night, and you're already exhausted. So how about this as a compromise: you can sleep in the bathroom if you need to, but let me at least bring you some pillows and blankets to make the tub less miserable. And..."
He pauses, seeming to consider his next words carefully, "If you want, I can sleep on the couch in the living room with my bedroom door open so you know exactly where I am. That way you're in a locked room, you know my location, and you have that alarm as backup. Would that help at all, or would having me nearby make it worse?"
His tone makes it clear that either answer is acceptable—that he's deliberately asking what would make her feel safest rather than trying to talk Noa into something that serves his preferences, "I'm not going to tell you that you're being ridiculous or that you should just trust me and sleep in the guest room. Whatever you need to feel secure enough to actually rest, that's what we're doing. So talk to me—what would help?"
"Oh, you don't have to throw pillows and stuff in there, really!" She waves her hands in a frantic 'No' gesture.
"I've actually slept in bathtubs so much they feel more comfortable than beds sometimes haha." She paused for a second as she realized what she said, then recovered her laidback attitude, "But no really the bathroom will be enough! I promise. You don't need to go that far."
His expression shifts at her casual admission about sleeping in bathtubs "so much" that they feel more comfortable than beds, an emotion flashing briefly across his face—anger, but not at her. At whatever circumstances led to a young woman finding bathtubs more comfortable than beds. His hands tighten slightly against the counter behind him before he deliberately relaxes them.
"Noa." His voice is gentle but firm, "The fact that you've had to sleep in bathtubs enough times that they feel more comfortable than actual beds is exactly why I'm going to bring you pillows and blankets. That's not normal, and it shouldn't have been necessary, and I'm not going to just let you sleep on cold porcelain when I have an entire apartment full of comfortable bedding."
He pushes off from the counter and walks closer to her, not invading the space but close enough that she has to look up at him,"Here's what's going to happen: I'm going to grab some pillows and the softest blankets I own. You're going to take them into the bathroom with you. You don't have to use them if you don't want to, but they'll be there if you change your mind. And I'm going to sleep on the couch in the living room with my bedroom door open so you know where I am."
His eyes are intense as he looks down at her,"You've spent too much time making yourself small and unobtrusive and not asking for things you need. Tonight, in my home, you're allowed to take up space and have comfort and feel safe. That's not negotiable or 'going too far'—that's basic human decency for someone who's been through something that made bathtubs feel safer than beds."
He reaches out and very gently touches her cheek with his fingertips, the gesture surprisingly tender, "Let me take care of you, just for tonight. You can go back to being independent and not needing anything tomorrow. Deal?"
"Umm..."She looks away from him, putting on a laidback, carefree mask. The sheepish embarrassed smile evident on her face, "Haha I guess I should probably explain this then, at the very least. Do you remember earlier today when I said that there were probably two incidents when I was younger that probably changed my brains chemistry a bit?"
When he nods slightly, she continues, "When I was younger, about six or seven I had a friend who whose mom was really close with my mom. And I would go over to their house a lot for sleep overs. I think it was when I was about six and a half my friend's dad starting coming into her room at night and touching me. You know, like "that" way. It started off small at first, with just him touching my feet & ankles, but then he started pulling my blankets off, and.. and then my clothes. The bathroom in their house was the only place that had a lock on it, so every time we spent the night I would wait for my friend to go to sleep & then slip off to the bathroom. Some nights I could get there quickly, & other nights he caught me. He did that to me until I moved over here in middle school when I was about twelve."
She refused to look at him, too scared to see the pitying look on his face that she knew just had to be there, "So yea, locks are important to me a bit. Just a teeny tiny bit."
There's absolute silence from him for several long seconds. When she finally risks glancing at him, his expression is completely controlled—but his eyes are blazing with barely contained fury. Not at her. Never at her. The Six Eyes are glowing slightly brighter than usual, and the cursed energy can be felt rolling off him in waves before he deliberately forces it down, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles are white.
"That man's name." His voice is deathly quiet, controlled in a way that's somehow more terrifying than if he were shouting, "I need his name and location."
He takes a slow breath, clearly forcing himself to focus, and when he speaks again his tone is gentler but still carrying that edge of protective rage."Actually, no—scratch that. We're not talking about him right now because this isn't about my need to go find him and make him regret every single time he touched you. This is about you."
He moves slowly, telegraphing his intentions, and very carefully pulls her into a hug—gentle enough that Noa could pull away if she wanted, but firm enough to be grounding. His hand comes up to cradle the back of her head, and when he speaks his voice is rough with emotion.
"I am so fucking sorry that happened to you. That should never have happened. You were a child, and someone who was supposed to be safe betrayed that trust in the worst possible way." He pulls back slightly to look at her face, his eyes still intense but filled with concern rather than pity. "And the fact that you went through that for six years and never told anyone, that you just... survived it by sleeping in bathrooms and making yourself small—fuck, Noa."
He lets her go and takes a step back, running both hands through his hair in agitation, "Okay. New plan for tonight. You're sleeping in my bed—it has a lock on the door, it's the most secure room in the apartment, and I'll be on the couch in the living room. Non-negotiable."
Her eyes feel slightly watery. She wasn't expecting him to give up his bed, "A-Are you sure? It's your bed. And you have an important job. You need rest, right? You didn't even sleep last night at my apartment. I'm just a college student, one night without sleep is just like the night before an exam. What if you regret it later tonight when you're sleeping on the couch?"
He looks at her like she's just said something completely absurd, and despite the emotional heaviness of the moment, there's something almost affectionate in his exasperation.
"Noa, I'm literally the strongest sorcerer in the world. I've gone days without sleep on missions, I've slept in abandoned buildings and forests and literal curse-infested hellscapes. My couch is practically a luxury hotel compared to some places I've crashed." He reaches out and very gently wipes a tear from her cheek with his thumb, the gesture incredibly tender, "And you're not 'just a college student.' You're someone who survived six years of abuse and still managed to become kind and thoughtful enough to worry about whether I'll be comfortable on my own damn couch."
He moves toward his bedroom, expecting her to follow, "C'mon, let me show you the room. It has a lock that works, blackout curtains, and the bed is comfortable enough that you might actually get some real sleep for once instead of whatever half-rest you get in a bathtub."
He opens the door to reveal a surprisingly neat bedroom—king-sized bed with expensive-looking bedding in dark colors, minimal decoration but clearly lived-in. He walks over to the bedside table and opens the drawer. "Emergency phone charger, water bottles in the mini-fridge over there, and—"he pulls out what looks like a small canister,"—pepper spray, just in case. Though honestly, if anyone broke in here they'd have to get through me first, and that's not happening."
He turns back to her with a slight smile,"The lock works perfectly, and I'm going to be right outside in the living room. If you need anything—anything—just call for me and I'll hear you. The Six Eyes enhanced hearing that you were teasing me about earlier? That means I'll know if you're in distress even through walls and locked doors."
He walks back toward her, his expression softening,"I'm not going to regret giving you my bed, Noa. The only thing I'd regret is knowing you were sleeping in a bathtub when I had the ability to give you something better and didn't. So please, just... let me do this. Let me give you one night where you feel safe enough to actually rest."
"O..okay. Just for one night though & then it's back to being your bed again." She murmurs quietly
He gives her a soft smile, relieved that she's accepting this without more argument.
"Deal. Just for tonight, and tomorrow we'll get that lock installed on the guest room door." He moves toward his dresser and pulls out what looks like one of his shirts—a soft, worn black t-shirt that's probably going easily to dwarf her. "Here, you can sleep in this if you want. It's clean and way more comfortable than sleeping in your clothes. There's also new toothbrushes under the bathroom sink, and feel free to use whatever you need in there."
He hands her the shirt, then starts gathering his own things—phone charger, a book from his nightstand, his blindfold. "Bathroom's right through that door if you want to change and get ready for bed. Take your time, there's no rush."
As he's collecting his things, he pauses and turns back at her, his expression more serious, "Noa, I want you to understand something. What I said earlier about you being safe here—I meant it. No one is getting to you through that door without going through me first, and I promise you that's not happening. The lock is for your peace of mind, but even without it, you're protected here."
He walks toward the door, then stops with his hand on the frame, "Lock the door behind me, okay? And if you need anything at all during the night—water, someone to talk to, just... reassurance that everything's okay—just call out. I'll hear you and I'll respond. The Six Eyes don't really let me sleep deeply anyway, so you won't be waking me up from anything important."
His blue gaze meets hers one more time, and there's something gentle in it, "Get some rest, Noa. You're safe here. I've got you."
"Okay, I'll try." She whispers quietly.
She's about to walk through the door to change before she pauses & shouts at him, "Wait! We still have to discuss training & those personal or professional boundaries you wanted to set! Let me change & I'll be out! We need to do that before bed."
She runs into the bathroom, throwing on his oversized T-shirt to use as a night gown for bed before running out & plopping herself on the couch were he was sleeping tonight, tugging his blanket into her lap, "Okay! I'm ready."