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lykegenia · 9 months

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Come Night, Come Morning

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Characters: Mason x Olivia Greene

Rating: T (can anything with Mason be less than T?)

Warnings: None

My contribution to @wayhavenficexchange for @ejunkiet - just a little bit of fluff set after the main events of Book 3 but before th MC goes back to their apartment. I hope you like it!

Now with AO3 link!

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He remembers when he didn’t stay. And more, before that, he remembers when he didn’t care at all, when Wayhaven was just another mission – another too-loud, too-bright spot on a map, ripe with humanity, to be endured and then escaped like one of the tactical seminars Adam always insists they attend. Looking back at those first days, it’s hard to see the slow, inching change in him, the pull in his chest that led him to the sanctuary of having Olivia sleeping at his side. Her heartbeat is steady, her breath a roll of slow, even waves that ruffle his hair where it lies against his collarbone.

He doesn’t mind the sensation. In fact, he’s lulled by the reassurance of the motion, the measured swell of her ribcage with every inhale. She’s alive. Defiant but impossibly outnumbered, the image of her on the auction house stage is something he can’t get out of his head, and with it lingers the rage that welled within him, white hot and sharp as teeth, at the sight of all those covetous bastards in the room shouting over each other for her blood.

Birds are singing outside the window, the dawn chorus in full throat. So far out into the wilderness it’s deafening, and though he prefers it to the roar of car engines on the morning commute, the sheer vastness of the sound normally has him chaining cigarettes until the little fuckers decide they’ve had enough of screaming at each other for the day.

And he didn’t notice it.

Now he has, the tumble of song fills his ears, but not to the usual point of pain, and with the rhythm of Olivia’s pulse undercutting it, it’s even almost… tolerable. He can pick out threads in the tapestry to appreciate their melody. The realisation brings a frown to his features, and he turns further into her embrace, unsettled.

There’s been a growing awareness of the calming effect she has on his senses, but along with all the other changes in his moods – he ran out of cigarettes a week ago, he stayed to not disturb her sleep, and they didn’t even fuck first – this sudden burst of understanding reminds him too much of other things. In the past, his memory barriers have slipped, and every time the first early warning signs were always altered behaviour and senses blurring into confusion. This doesn’t feel exactly the same, but then there’s no other name for the tightness in his chest when he looks down at Olivia, either.

His movement has disturbed her. As she shifts, a moan rises from her throat and a fleeting smile touches his lips. Over the past few months he’s learned various ways to draw that sound from her, but this morning he has no interest in such exertion. He brushes his lips over her forehead instead.

“Sleep, sweetheart.” She’s had a rough few days, between the debrief over the auction and the slew of new training she’s been drafted into for her promotion to full agent. “I’ve got you.”

“What time is it?” she mumbles.

“Early.”

He turns slightly to better pick up the change in her heartrate, the barest quickening of her breath that he doubts anyone else would notice. That he does has ceased to be a surprise.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks, stroking a hand over her back.

There’s a small inhale, fingers twisting in the sheets. “You stayed again.”

At one time he didn’t – wouldn’t have considered it. He covers with a lazy smile.

“Would you rather I hadn’t?”

“More like I’m scared I’ll get used to it,” she admits.

Inside his ribcage, his heart clenches at the loneliness laid bare in those words, so strong that for a moment instead of a reply all he can muster is a phantom yearning for tobacco.

“I might get used to it myself,” he replies, once the moment has passed.

She sits up, eyes him warily. For an instant, struck by the tangles her hair has gained in sleep, he’s tempted to pull her into his lap and see how much wilder he can make it, but while he shifts against the pillow he doesn’t act on the impulse, only waits for her to decide if they’re going to talk about this uncertain, dangerous thing between them.

She breaks his gaze. “What about when my apartment is fixed?”

He hasn’t been thinking about it. He lives in the moment, because in his experience moments are all you get.

“What about it?”

“Never mind.” A fleeting smile. “It’ll feel weird going back after spending so much time here.”

Silence falls between them as she turns towards the window, the dawn light plenty for his vampire eyes to pick out fine details as it catches against dark eyelashes and the tempting curve of her lips. Who says she has to go? He never has the inclination to stay and he doesn’t ask others to stay either, but he’s used to her, to the calming if unexplainable effect she has on his senses. Instead of letting the words slip unguarded off his tongue, however, he focuses back on his observations, on the tremor in her heart that tells him as much about her mood as her half-turned away expression.

“If there’s something you want to say, sweetheart, I’m right here.”

“Hm?” She blinks. “Oh, no – it’s nothing. Just thinking.”

Lie.

He smooths a hand down her spine, under her pyjama top, her skin no more than a tingle against his fingertips.

“I don’t think there’s time for that, sunshine,” she chides gently. “Not with everything Adam has planned for me today.”

“Pity. But I wasn’t thinking about that.”

One dark eyebrow lifts. “Who are you and what have you done with Mason?”

I can think of other things, you know.” He smirks. “It’s just more fun not to most of the time.”

With a fond sigh and a roll of her eyes, she wriggles towards the side of the bed, only halting when he brushes a hand over her wrist.

“We don’t have to get up yet.”

“You want to cuddle?”

He manages to make his shrug look casual. “If you want to call it that.”

There’s another moment of wary scrutiny, but his open arm is an invitation she chooses to accept, and he catches her smile as she snuggles down with him once again. As her weight settles against his chest, right where she should be, he allows the contentment to escape in a sigh. He remembers when he didn’t stay, and this is much better.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #agent mason #olivia greene #wayhaven mason #twc fanfic #agent m #twc detective #wayhavenficexchange

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celeb-8008s · 2 months

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