#soft morning

It was at times like this that she’d think about questioning the dynamic between them. When he really did treat her like a child, rather than a grown woman. Grounding her, forcing her into her room the whole time between supper and breakfast. It didn’t seem fair. It didn’t seem right.

But that was all she did. Think about it. Because as much as it felt frustrating, or annoying, she knew she wanted this. She wanted to have that safety that he provided, even if it meant that she had to take some of this along with it. 

She didn’t question is because she knew that this was a lesson that she was refusing to learn. He didn’t ground her because he didn’t want her going out, or because he just wanted some condescending punishment to mete down on her. 

No. As she sat on her bed, pouting and huffing, she knew that he’d given her this as an opportunity to order herself. Spend some time to think and reflect. This was enforced meditation time, and she should be grateful for it. Because she wasn’t the type to be able to do that on her own. It had taken her three days to realise that, but it was a realisation that was worth it. 

There was a knock on the door the next morning, as there always was, and he opened the door to a entirely different sight to the bedraggled mess she normally was a seven AM. Hair neatly pulled back and managed, face immaculately made up, and the only hint she wasn’t in perfect control being the shoulderstrap hanging loss on her right. But even that looked composed. He smiled, and opened his arms. 

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to resist the urge to grin and rush over to him. A wry little smile still shone through, and she daintily stood, taking some measured steps over to him before surging into his embrace.