American Royalty III

Part 27: Blue highlights

Connor gently ran his fingers through Kit's hair, the motion soft and rhythmic, like a quiet promise. Her hair had grown so long in the time they'd been together—it cascaded in waves nearly down to her waist. The faint shimmer of blue highlights caught in the low light, giving her hair a glow that seemed almost otherworldly. He couldn't decide if it was just a magical quirk of her heritage or a remnant of everything she'd been through, but it suited her. It made her seem like the ocean—serene and calm on the surface, but holding untold depths beneath.

As his fingers brushed through the strands, he marveled at how something so simple could bring him so much comfort. Her body was still, pressed gently against his chest. He could feel the rhythm of her breathing, slow and steady now. His hand, almost unconsciously, continued its tender path through her hair, tracing the silken texture. The moment felt fragile, and yet, in some strange way, it felt like it had always been this way—him holding her, her nestled against him.

Kit stirred, shifting slightly, and Connor froze, his heart skipping a beat as he thought he might've disturbed her. But then, her body settled back into his, her breathing never faltering. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and he continued, running his fingers through her hair with renewed care.

For a long while, he just sat there, enveloped in the quiet rhythm of her presence. The world outside seemed to disappear—there was no battle, no danger, just the sound of her heartbeat beneath his hand and the soft breath she exhaled in her sleep. It was the kind of moment he never thought he would get again.

Then, slowly, Kit's eyelids fluttered open. At first, her eyes were unfocused, her vision still muddled with the haze of sleep, but they gradually sharpened. Her gaze met his, and the bright sea-green of her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," Connor whispered, his voice so soft it barely felt real.

She blinked a few times, the weight of the world still clinging to her as she tried to pull herself together. "Hey," she replied, her voice hoarse from disuse. She gave a faint frown, her brows knitting in confusion. "How long was I out?"

Connor couldn't stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, the touch almost reverent. "Long enough to make me think you were going to sleep forever."

Kit's lips curved upward just the tiniest bit in what was perhaps the most fragile of smiles. "Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't be," Connor murmured, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he tightened his grip on her. "I didn't know if..." His throat tightened, and he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

Kit's hand rose, shaking slightly as she placed it against his chest, her fingers pressing softly against the fabric of his shirt. "Hey," she said again, her voice gaining strength despite the rawness of it. "I'm here."

Connor nodded quickly, blinking rapidly to stave off the sudden rush of emotion. "You scared the hell out of me, Kit," he confessed, his voice thick. "I thought I lost you. We all did."

"I know," she whispered, her eyes clouding with a flicker of guilt. "I didn't mean to..."

"No," Connor interrupted firmly, his fingers gently brushing over her cheek. "None of this was your fault. You did what you had to do. And you made it back." His voice softened, thick with sincerity. "That's all that matters."

Kit's gaze never left his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to break. The floodgates opened—the fear, the pain, the crushing relief of feeling safe again all came pouring out at once. Her eyes shimmered with the unshed tears she'd been holding back for so long.