Chapter 78: Pouts, Promises and Too Much Power
She had stopped crying.
At least, that’s what it looked like.
By the time we ended up sprawled back on my bed, the lights dimmed, my laptop perched on a pillow with some random movie playing, it was as if nothing had happened. Celestia was curled against me, a bowl of popcorn in her lap—homemade, of course, because apparently microwave bags were an insult to her standards.
To anyone else, she looked fine. Perfectly fine. Smiling at the screen, tossing kernels into her mouth, occasionally missing on purpose just to laugh at herself. But me? I couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d looked minutes ago—her face blotchy, her voice shaky, her whole world cracking through her words.
So while she watched the movie, I... watched her.
"Can you believe this guy?" she suddenly said, eyes widening at whatever train wreck was happening on screen. She pointed with her popcorn. "Like, hello? Red flag. Huge red flag. If a guy ever pulled that on me—"
She cut herself short. Her finger still hovered toward the screen, but her gaze shifted, narrowing as she turned her head. Her eyes locked on me.
"What?" I asked, caught mid-stare.
Her lips pressed together, tilting in that way that said she was both amused and annoyed. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like I’m..." She hesitated, her expression flickering. Then she said it, softer, "...like I’m some broken thing you’ve gotta fix."
The words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened, guilty before I could even deny it.
"I wasn’t—"
"You were," she cut in, matter-of-fact, like she’d already won this argument. "That’s your face right now. Don’t bother lying, Kai."
I exhaled, leaning back against the headboard. "Maybe I was. But can you blame me? You cried, Val. And not your usual, dramatic ’oh my god the barista gave me almond milk instead of oat’ kind of cry. You really cried."
She rolled her eyes, a ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth. "Wow. Thanks for the distinction."
"I’m serious."
Her teasing softened, the popcorn forgotten for a moment as she tucked her knees to her chest. "I know you are. But, Kai..." Her eyes found mine, steady this time. "I’m fine. Mostly because you’re here. That’s enough, you know?"
I studied her face, searching for cracks, but she held my gaze like she meant it. Maybe she did. Maybe she was tougher than I gave her credit for.
Still. My brain refused to just accept ’fine’.
"How about we..." The words slipped out before I knew where I was going with them. I paused, fumbling. "I don’t know. We could... figure something out? A plan? Or—or maybe I could talk to Lucien, or—"
She was already smiling.
I stopped mid-thought, narrowing my eyes. "You’re smiling. Should I be worried?"
Her grin widened, smug and sweet at the same time. "Not at all. I’m just happy."
"Happy," I repeated flatly, "because I’m trying to make strategies about something I don’t even understand?"
"No." She leaned closer, bumping her forehead against mine. "Happy because you’re worried. About me. That’s what makes you a good husband."
Husband. That word again. Always that word with her.
I chuckled under my breath, trying to mask the warmth creeping up my neck. "You make it sound like it’s some bare minimum thing."
"It’s not." Her voice softened, losing that playful lilt. For just a second, her eyes drifted away, unfocused. "You don’t know how rare it is."
Something in her tone made my stomach twist. Like the words came from a deeper place she didn’t mean to open up.
And then, in classic Celestia fashion, she ruined her own vulnerability with a smirk. "Besides, you worrying about me just means you’re whipped. Can’t deny it."
I groaned. "Why do I even try?"
She laughed, leaning back against my chest, munching another piece of popcorn like nothing heavy had passed between us.
But me? Yeah, I caught it. That tiny shadow in her voice.
And I couldn’t stop thinking about the last thing she didn’t say out loud—
That maybe she couldn’t even remember the last time someone worried about her.
---
The movie ended. Then another one.
By the time the second credits rolled, it was late enough that even Duchess had slunk off to curl up on her throne (otherwise known as the top of my laundry basket).
Celestia, however, hadn’t budged. She lay sprawled beside me on the bed, hair a messy halo on my pillow, absently digging into the now nearly-empty popcorn bowl.
Then she pouted. That kind of pout—the one I’d learned to be suspicious of. Lips poked out just slightly, eyes half-lidded like she was trying to look casual about it.
> "Babe."
I didn’t even glance away from the screen saver bouncing on my laptop. "No."
Her pout deepened instantly. "You didn’t even let me say it."
"I don’t need to. I know that tone."
> "You don’t."
"Val," I sighed, finally looking at her. "I swear, I know. You’re about to ask for something I probably shouldn’t say yes to."
She scooted closer, setting the bowl aside with exaggerated care, and looped her arms around my waist. "Spend the night?" she asked sweetly. "Please?"
I raised a brow. "It’s Tuesday."
> "I know."
"We agreed—weekends."
"I know," she said again, even softer this time, pressing her cheek to my chest like maybe snuggling closer would soften my resolve. "But... just tonight. Please, Kai? I don’t feel like going home."
Her voice dropped at the end, too quiet. Too raw.
For a moment, I just stared at her, fighting between reason and instinct. And then—yeah, instinct won.
"Okay," I cut in, before she could beg more.
Her head lifted, eyes widening. "Okay?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "Okay."
Her grin was instant, radiant, like I’d just handed her the moon. She hugged me so tightly my ribs protested. "Thank you, Kai. Seriously." Then she leaned back just enough to flash me that mischievous smile that always meant trouble. "You know what? Tonight, whatever you say, I’ll do it. No questions asked. Just say the word."
I chuckled under my breath. "That’s way too much power to give me, Val. You know that, right?"
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, her grin twisting into something smug. "You really think so?"
The look she gave me was dangerous—half challenge, half promise—and suddenly I wasn’t so sure she was the one at a disadvantage here.
"Yeah," I muttered, trying to sound confident, "I think so."
Her smile said otherwise.
We stayed tangled up like that for a while, her cheek pressed to my chest, until I finally tilted my head down at her. "So... what are you even wearing tomorrow? For school I mean"
She blinked up at me, eyes wide, like I’d just asked the most ridiculous question in the world. "Clothes?"
I sat up a little. "You didn’t think of that before deciding to randomly move in for the night?"
Her lips curved into that mischievous smirk I knew too well, the kind that said she was five steps ahead of me. "Oh, I did."
I narrowed my eyes. "...What do you mean you did?"
"Had someone pick up a dress or two." She said it casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "Right now, one of the guards should be on his way here with it."
I dropped my head into my hand. "Of course you did."
She beamed, completely unbothered.
---
Sure enough, maybe twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
"Ms. Moreau," a voice called politely. "I’ve brought what you requested."
Celestia hopped off the bed like Christmas had come early, padding to the door in her socks. She cracked it open, murmured a thank you, and then swung it wide enough for me to see—
Not a bag.
Not a dress.
Two boxes.
Big ones.
"Val," I deadpanned.
She kicked the door shut behind her, pushing one of the boxes into my room with her foot while carrying the other with both arms. "What?"
"You said a dress or two."
She flashed me her most innocent smile. "Oh, I meant a box or two."
I just stared at her, unamused. "That’s not the same thing."
"It is in Celestia language," she replied primly, already tugging at the tape on the top box.
I groaned. "Do I want to know how much is in there?"
"Nope." She popped the box open triumphantly, revealing not just a dress but an entire array—shoes, skirts, tops, even a folded hoodie. "But aren’t you glad I think ahead? Now I can spend the night as much as I want."
"That was the plan all along, wasn’t it?"
She gasped, hand to her chest. "Are you accusing me of manipulation, husband?"
"Absolutely."
Her grin was wicked. "And you still said yes. Which makes you an accomplice."
I dragged a hand down my face, already regretting giving in so easily. "I should’ve known."
"You should’ve," she agreed cheerfully, already pulling a dress from the box and holding it against her body in the mirror. "But you didn’t. Which means I win."
"Win what?"
> "Everything."
And just like that, she twirled, hair flying, her laughter filling the room like it always did.
And yeah, even with the ridiculous boxes stacked in my room, even with the fact that she was clearly turning my house into a second closet—I couldn’t bring myself to complain.
Because she was here.
Because she was smiling.
And after tonight, I wasn’t sure I’d trade that for anything.
---
To be continued...