“I can’t just?—”
“Yes, you can,” he cuts in, not harsh but immovable. “You’re new. You’ve been pushing yourself. You’re sick. End of discussion.”
“They’ll be short-staffed.”
“I’ll cover it,” he says immediately.
My head snaps up. “Finn?—”
“I mean it,” he continues. “I’ll work the shifts, pay Pete, whatever it takes. You’re not dragging yourself in there half-conscious again. I think you need to properly reset and recover, not just rest enough to get by.”
I shake my head, the motion making the room tilt. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” His voice softens. “I want to, baby.”
That steals what little fight I had left.
He stands, tugging the blanket up around my shoulders before sitting back against the sofa and opening his arms. Not demanding. Just there.
“Come here,” he murmurs.
I hesitate for half a second – long enough to feel foolish about it – then crawl into his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He adjusts instantly, one arm wrapped around my back, the other braced along the sofa, anchoring me.
The relief is immediate.
My breathing evens out without me trying. The tight, frantic buzzing under my skin dulls. The ache in my neck eases from sharp insistence to a low throb. My cheek rests over his heart, steady and warm, and I let out a breath so heavy it feels like I’ve been holding it all day.
Finn stills.
“Is this okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, eyes already slipping shut. “Please don’t move.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says.
Minutes pass. Maybe more. Time blurs around the edges.
Then I feel it.
A vibration. Low. Resonant. Right beneath my ear.
I frown faintly, half-asleep, and shift closer.
The sound deepens.
Finn freezes.
“Oh,” he breathes.
“What?” I mumble.
He doesn’t answer, because he’s just realised what’s happening too. The sound is coming from him. A purr.
Not loud. Not obvious. Just a steady, soothing rumble vibrating through his chest, rolling into me like a balm. My body responds instantly, tension melting, muscles going slack as if someone’s finally flipped the right switch.
Finn swallows hard.
“I—” He exhales slowly, like he’s trying not to startle me. “That doesn’t usually…ahh…happen.”