If you like music while you read, try "Carry You" by Ruelle + Fluerie. It's what I was listening to while I wrote this!
*****
~ ZEV ~
"Yhet, she hasn't eaten. I don't suppose—"
"I brought stew," Yhet mumbled and turned to a small stool on the side of the room where a cast iron pot had been placed with a thick fur over it.
Sasha thanked him as he dished her out a bowl—this one still warm—and she sat on the edge of the bed peppering Yhet with questions about what had happened since she'd been gone.
But her eyes were dropping and her chin kept dropping as she chewed. Until even Yhet's brows went up and Zev turned to see that Sasha sat, her spoon in one hand, the bowl in the other, just beginning to tip because she'd dozed off.
"I'll take care of it, Yhet," he said gently, barely able to restrain himself from taking her in his arms. "You go get some rest. And thank you."
