The mansion was quiet when Izana returned.
Not unusually so.
But enough.
The doors opened, and his steps echoed faintly against the polished floors as he entered, removing his gloves with practiced ease. His expression was the same as always—calm, controlled, unreadable.
But the moment he stepped further inside—
Something felt wrong.
It wasn't obvious.
There was no noise, no disruption, nothing visibly out of place.
But something was… missing.
His gaze shifted slightly toward the staircase.
And he stopped.
Leah wasn't there.
She was always there.
Not every time—but enough that he had come to expect it without realizing. Waiting at the top of the stairs, or halfway down, or simply appearing the moment he walked in.
That quiet presence.
That familiarity.
Gone.
His brows drew together just slightly.
"…Elias."
The name was spoken calmly—but it carried weight.
Within seconds, Elias appeared.
"What is it?" Elias asked, his tone steady—familiar, not formal.
Izana didn't waste time.
"Where is she?"
Elias studied him for a brief second, noting the tension that hadn't been there before.
"In your room," he replied. "She hasn't come out for a while."
A pause.
Short.
Sharp.
Izana didn't say anything else.
He moved.
Fast.
Not running—but close enough that the urgency was unmistakable. His steps were quicker, sharper as he crossed the hall and took the stairs two at a time.
Something was wrong.
He knew it.
And he didn't wait to question it further.
The door to their room opened without hesitation.
The room was dim.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Izana stepped inside, his gaze immediately finding her.
Leah lay on the bed, her back facing him, the covers pulled up around her. She was still.
Too still.
His chest tightened slightly—not visibly, not outwardly—but enough for him to feel it.
He closed the door behind him softly.
Then walked toward her.
Each step quieter than the last.
Careful.
Measured.
When he reached the bed, he didn't speak right away.
Instead, he lowered himself to kneel beside it, positioning himself in front of her, close enough that he could see her face if she turned.
For a moment—
He just looked at her.
Then his hand lifted.
And gently—
He brushed his fingers through her hair.
Slow.
Careful.
"…Li."
His voice was low.
Soft.
Leah stirred slightly at the sound, her eyes opening just enough to acknowledge him.
"…Iz."
Her voice was quiet.
Not strained.
But not right either.
He didn't ask immediately.
His fingers continued their gentle movement through her hair, a grounding presence before anything else.
Then—
"…What's wrong?"
The question was simple.
Direct.
But softer than usual.
Leah hesitated.
He felt it in the way her breathing shifted, in the slight pause before she spoke.
"…It's nothing," she murmured.
Izana didn't respond.
Didn't accept it.
He never did.
His hand stilled briefly in her hair before continuing, slower this time.
"…Tell me."
Not forceful.
Not demanding.
But certain.
Leah exhaled softly, her fingers tightening slightly against the blanket.
"…It's just…" she started, then paused again.
Her voice dropped quieter.
"…my time."
The words settled between them.
Simple.
But enough.
Izana didn't react outwardly.
But something in his gaze shifted—understanding settling in immediately.
He leaned forward without hesitation, his arm slipping around her carefully, pulling her just slightly closer toward him.
"...It's okay, my love."
Not moving her too much.
Just enough.
A quiet, protective hold.
Leah didn't resist.
Didn't pull away.
Instead, she relaxed into him, her forehead lightly brushing against his shoulder.
"It's nothing," she repeated softly, though this time it didn't sound convincing.
Izana didn't argue.
Didn't correct her.
His hand moved lightly along her arm, slow, steady.
Then—
She winced.
Just slightly.
But he felt it instantly.
His gaze sharpened.
"…Pain?"
She didn't answer right away.
Which was answer enough.
Izana leaned back just enough to look at her properly, his hand moving to her face, brushing lightly against her cheek.
He didn't say anything.
Just observed.
Understood.
Then he leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
"I'll be back."
Leah blinked slightly, watching him as he stood.
"…Iz?"
But he was already moving.
Not far.
Just to the wardrobe.
He removed his jacket first, then his shirt, replacing them quickly with something more comfortable, something softer. His movements were efficient, but there was no rush—just purpose.
Within moments, he was done.
And then he returned.
Without hesitation, he climbed into the bed beside her, slipping under the covers carefully so he wouldn't disturb her too much.
Leah watched him, a little confused now.
"…What are you doing?" she asked quietly.
Izana turned slightly toward her, his gaze steady.
"…Tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable."
Leah blinked.
That didn't answer her question.
But she didn't argue.
Because she trusted him.
"…Okay," she said softly.
Izana didn't waste time explaining.
Instead, his hand moved slowly under the covers, careful, deliberate as he slid it gently beneath the fabric of her shirt.
Leah's breath caught slightly—not from discomfort, but from the unexpected warmth of his touch.
His hand rested lightly against her stomach.
Still.
Then—
He began to move.
Slow.
Gentle.
Careful pressure, just enough to ease—not enough to hurt.
"…Here?" he asked quietly, his gaze fixed on her face, watching for any reaction.
Leah paused.
Then nodded slightly.
"…Mm."
His movements adjusted slightly, his hand shifting just enough to find the right spot, the pressure consistent, warm.
Leah's breathing softened gradually.
The tension in her body eased, just slightly at first.
Then more.
The warmth of his hand spread through her, grounding, steady, easing the dull ache that had been sitting there for hours.
She hadn't expected it.
Hadn't thought—
But it helped.
Her eyes lowered slightly as she let out a small breath.
"…That helps," she admitted quietly.
Izana didn't respond.
But his hand didn't stop.
His movements remained slow, consistent, focused entirely on her.
There was no hesitation.
No awkwardness.
Just quiet care.
Leah shifted slightly closer without thinking, her body relaxing into the mattress—and into him.
Her hand moved lightly, resting against his arm.
"…You didn't have to do this," she murmured.
A pause.
Then—
"I know."
Simple.
As always.
Leah's fingers curled slightly against him, her grip light.
"…I thought maybe…" she started, then stopped.
The words didn't come.
Didn't need to.
Izana understood anyway.
His hand slowed just slightly—but didn't stop.
"…We have time," he said quietly.
Leah's chest tightened again.
But this time—
It didn't hurt as much.
She nodded faintly, her eyes closing as she let herself settle into the warmth, into the quiet, into him.
"…Okay."
The room fell silent again.
But it wasn't heavy this time.
It wasn't empty.
Because he was there.
And he didn't leave.
He stayed exactly where she needed him to be.
And slowly—
The pain eased.
And so did everything else.