Neva is sitting on the sofa, combing her hair with a wooden comb engraved with little red roses, green vines and leaves.
As she hears the light thud of the door closing, she ceases the motions of her hands and glances to her right, toward the bathroom.
Rhett approaches her, having freshened up and changed into comfortable clothes for the night.
He stands towering over her, looking into her eyes. "May I?" he asks, holding out the palm of his hand.
Neva gladly places the comb in his hand.
Rhett sits beside her, and Neva lifts her legs onto the sofa. She settles comfortably with her legs crossed, her back turned on him.
Rhett gingerly, very naturally, runs the dentures of the comb through her long, smooth curls.
And Neva silently finds herself melting, a sensation of faint tingling in her belly.
"This brings me back," Rhett comments in a deep, softened voice.
Neva raises her brows. "How so?"
"Us in this hotel, like the past, when we had to take shelter in many. And a moment of peace just like this. Well, except the children here with us." He glances at the master bed stowed in the middle of the room.
Neva follows gaze toward the children.
She chuckles at their weird sleeping positions.
Isaiah is in the middle, his duvet slipped off and a leg sprawling over Rhean.
He also helped remove Rhean's duvet.
And the only child who seems rather peaceful, with her comfort intact, is Inaya.
Then Neva smiles softly, fingers fidgeting on her lap, her sombre eyes cast downward. Her chest aches at the deeper meaning behind his words.
"We never really knew peace, did we?" She asks in a quiet voice.
Rhett is combing her hair, without the need to unravel the untangled knots, but simply because he wants to—to soak in this familiar pleasure of running through her velvety, floral–scented hair.
"Of course we did. For me, I only know peace when I'm with you. It don't matter to me what goes on in the world."
Neva slowly turns her head to face him, his hands naturally lowering.
"I don't feel like I deserve your love."
Rhett shakes his head in refusal.
"We both deserve each other. More than kindness deserving to humans." He takes her face in his large hands.
"I love you now more than I had ever loved. And it will only keep growing as long as life remains."
He tenderly plants a kiss on her forehead.
"I always ruin it for you being so anxious, don't I?" her weakened voice murmers.
"Never. Each time you come to me with your worry, I'll always be here, and never stop reassuring." He kisses her on the lips. "I will never complain."
"There's no heartfelt moment, nothing I haven't experienced with you. And yet, there's so much left for us to do," he says, a thumb lovingly stroking her cheek.
"You make me want to live a very long life with you."
Neva smiles and wraps her arms around his neck.
Pulling him closer, they share another deep, devoted and earnest kiss.
.
.
.
"You know, I didn't want to sleep because I was afraid of dreaming the worse," Neva says, gentle fingers caressing, fondling his mellow locks. He lies over her, his face nestled in the crook of her neck, his heavy body not bothering her.
"But now I'm kind of excited to see the memories—especially including you." Neva breathes in.
"I hope you see all the naughty parts of us." Rhett bites her earlobe.
Neva playfully smacks his back, making him chuckle gleefully.
"You're such a pervert." She rolls her eyes.
He only grins.
His heart lightens; each while of them spend together embracing hope in him—hope of bringing back the merriest version of his Neva.
He can only pray. When they leave Miraeth after fullfilling their purpose, he hopes they will be further favoured with miracles, binding them even stronger.
"Speaking of dreams," Rhett lifts his head, their eyes threading. "I dreamed the other night that we had a daughter."
Neva stays silent.
"In the future, let's have a daughter—who looks like you." He smiles.
He sees a beautiful coming, and he gives her hope for the future.
"You want a daughter?" Neva asks, offering him a faint smile.
"Well, if you want. You already have a daughter though." He shrugs.
And Neva, perhaps—perhaps doesn't really catch the cause of the sharp pang in her chest.
"Everything of mine is yours; and everything of yours is mine." Rhett assures, observing a faint bleakness in Neva's eyes that he refuses to not understand.
He caresses away her hair from her face.
"Your God is my God. And your children, my own." He softly kisses her cheek.
Neva puckers her lips, her eyes turning glossy from the love of him.
"I love you," Neva whispers.
Rhett looks at her, slightly surprised. "You do?"
Neva chuckles at him through teary eyes.
"I always have. Even if I were to lose my memories a thousand times, each time I would still find myself falling for you." She rubs the tips of their noses together. "Deeply," she whispers. "In love with you."
"I love you more. More than anything." Rhett rests his head gently on her chest, seeking the comfort he's yearned.
An exhale of relief escapes his lungs.
"I didn't know until now that I was dying to hear this from you." He smiles, eyes closed—a spark of emotions bursting, melting inside him. He knows she loves him; but oh God to truly hear it from her lips, to feel in her voice, a true heaven in her.
Neva smiles, then runs her hand gently accross his back, thawing him slow in her warmth.
"Okay, now let's get some rest. I'll fetch a blanket for you. But I think the bed will fit us just fine though," she suggests, glancing at the bed—the three children encompassing seventy percent of the space.
Neva shakes her head in realization. "I was wrong. There's barely any space left."
"It will, I can guarantee. But both of us should be this close and attached to each other," Rhett remarks, tightening his hold around her, making her giggle.
She futilely attempts to shove him by away by his chest as he peppers her face and neck with tickling kisses.