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The pale morning light filtered timidly through the room's heavy curtains, tinging the room with golden and gray tones. The silence was comfortable, broken only by the slight sound of the wind outside and the quiet breathing of the two figures entwined in bed.
Yang sighed slowly, still between sleep and wakefulness. Her body was enveloped in a familiar warmth, a firm, protective embrace that came from her back. Long, cold arms were wrapped around her belly, her pale hand resting lovingly on the slight seven-month bulge that protruded from beneath the cotton nightgown. Yang's heart beat slowly, strongly and steadily, and as she felt it, Blake murmured softly:
- Awake, sleeping beauty?
Yang smiled before she even opened her eyes. Blake's voice was like a night breeze, calm, soft, with that slightly husky tone that only came in the early hours of the day.
- I am now. - she replied, her voice still sleepy. - Have you become a night watchman now? I didn't know...
Blake let out a small, muffled laugh, brushing her nose against the curve of Yang's neck.
- You're the pregnant one here. You need all the vigilance I can give you.
Yang turned a little, just enough to look at her wife over her shoulder. Purple eyes met dark amber eyes, deep as night. Blake's black hair was a little messy, framing her pale face softly.
- And you? - Yang asked, running her fingers over the vampire's cold cheek. - Feeling weak again?
Blake hesitated. Even after years together, there was still an ancient instinct inside her that made her lie for protection. But Yang already knew how to recognize that pause.
- A little. - Blake admitted, her hand lightly squeezing her wife's waist. - But I can handle another day or two.
- You don't have to. - Yang said sweetly, turning completely around to face her, even if it forced her to move slowly because of the growing weight on her belly. - You need to eat, Blake.
- Yang...
- I'm fine. - she insisted. - You said it yourself: my body is stronger now, the hormones are making me produce more blood. And you take so little...
Blake looked away. The hunger burned in her throat, dry as sand, but the fear was greater. The thought of taking any drop of blood from the woman who was carrying their baby was suffocating.
- I can't put you or our son at risk. I... - her voice faltered. - If something were to happen to you...
Yang held Blake's face with both hands and forced her wife to face her.
- I trust you. You're careful, you always have been. You've never hurt me. And I want you strong, I want to know that you're okay. Because you'll only be able to look after me and the baby if you're well. Right?
Blake swallowed, her eyes moist with the intensity of the moment.
- I love you so much. - she murmured.
- Then prove it. - Yang said, offering her neck with a sweet smile. - Just a little. Just enough to make you feel better.
Blake shivered slightly. The hunger was real, always there, but she tamed it every day for Yang. Now, with the invitation made, and the warmth of her wife's body so close, so tempting, she approached carefully, positioning herself above Yang, but keeping one hand resting on her slightly protruding belly.
- If I do anything wrong, push me. Promise?
- I promise. - Yang replied, relaxing under the cold touch. - Just trust me too.
Blake lowered her head slowly, her lips brushing the warm neck before her canines revealed themselves. She didn't pierce the skin straight away - first, she kissed the spot tenderly, like a silent apology. Then she dug her teeth in with an almost reverent gentleness.
Yang closed her eyes. There was a slight pain, like a sting, but then there was warmth, a strange, intimate connection between them that always made her shiver. Time stood still in those moments - there was no fear, only love and trust.
Blake took just a few sips. She forced herself to stop, even though her thirst was still burning inside her. When she pulled away, she carefully wiped away any traces of blood and lay down next to her wife again, panting and full of guilt.
- All right... That was enough. - she said. - ...I feel better now.
Yang opened her eyes slowly and smiled, touching Blake's lips with her fingers.
- Then it's perfect.
The two remained silent for long minutes, with the vampire only listening to Yang's heartbeat - a sound that was music to Blake. She closed her eyes, her forehead resting against her wife's warm shoulder.
──────
The little moment of nourishment had ended over an hour ago, and now the blonde was asleep again, sunk into the soft sheets, enveloped by the soft dimness filtered through the curtains. The warmth of her body seemed to radiate into the sheets, the mattress and Blake's cold skin.
The vampire hadn't moved for several minutes. She lay there on her side, her arm carefully positioned under her wife's head and the other resting on her rounded belly. She could feel Yang's heart beating steadily. Strong. Healthy.
But the blood she had taken, even if only a little, made her more alert now. Her hunger had been calmed, but it had never completely disappeared. And the taste...
It was hard to forget.
The taste of Yang's blood was warm, sweet, with something Blake couldn't name - a kind of glow, of vital energy, that spread through her body like liquid fire. It wasn't just sustenance: it was intimacy, trust, pure love coursing through her veins. Nothing in the world could compare.
And that was exactly why she needed to control herself.
Blake sighed softly and, with extreme delicacy, began to move. She removed her arm from under Yang's head with a trained, millimetrically calculated gesture. The blonde let out a sleepy sigh, but didn't wake up. Still lying on her side, her golden hair scattered over the pillow, Yang muttered something incomprehensible, perhaps a dream, and turned her face slightly, seeking the warmth left behind.
Blake knelt on the edge of the bed, watching. her first concern was to make sure Yang didn't move too much in her sleep. Although her belly was not yet big enough to compromise her movements, Blake preferred not to risk it. She pulled one of the extra pillows from the opposite side of the bed and positioned it behind Yang's back, creating a soft boundary. Then she adjusted another pillow in front, close to her stomach - a habit Yang said helped with the weight and back pain.
And finally, with watchful eyes, she placed a third pillow near the edge of the mattress, where the blonde usually rolled over in her most agitated dreams. She had never rolled out of bed before, but now... now everything needed to be safer. Everything.
Only after checking each position three times did Blake stand up. Her bare feet made no sound on the dark wooden floor as she left the room.
The house was simple, cozy, built with comfort and isolation in mind. They lived away from the city, where the sun didn't invade neighboring windows and prying eyes didn't prowl around their doors. There, Blake could be who she was, and Yang could rest in peace.
The kitchen was bathed in more intense natural light, enough to make her narrow her eyes as she entered. She crossed the room with familiarity, opening the refrigerator in the corner - not the ordinary one with fruit and juice, but the smaller, sealed one with a biometric lock. A measure they had both agreed on since the beginning of the pregnancy.
Blake touched her finger to the sensor. A subtle click answered, and the door opened with a muffled hiss.
Inside, several bags were organized. All labeled, numbered, legally acquired from specialized blood banks for creatures like her. Artificial blood, enriched with synthetic plasma and basic nutrients - "technically nutritious", as the specialized doctor had said - but still...
No soul.
Blake picked up a bag, the plastic cold against her fingers. She walked over to the microwave and heated it up for a few seconds. It was a gesture she hated - blood heated like this smelled metallic, tasteless, almost unpleasant - but she could bear it. For her wife. For her baby.
Hearing the device's soft beep, Blake picked up her bag and sat down on the stool at the kitchen island. She tore the seal with her teeth and brought the nozzle to her mouth. The liquid oozed out.
Thick. Almost tasteless. A little salty. It died on her tongue like still water.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to swallow, even though her stomach churned in disgust. She drank half the bag before stopping, leaning it on the counter. Her face was serious, but her eyes carried a silent weight.
None of it compared to Yang's blood. None of it would ever compare.
But she would rather swallow that watery, lifeless liquid a thousand times than risk taking too much from the woman she loved. No matter how much the hunger burned, how sweet Yang's blood was like golden honey - Blake would endure.
Because if one day she went too far, if one slip-up even hurt Yang.... she would never forgive herself.
Ever.
──────
Blake was still holding the half-empty bag in her hand when the soft, almost imperceptible sound reached her sensitive ears.
It was a familiar beat, engraved in her memory like an eternal melody. There was no mistaking it. But it was no longer coming from the bedroom, but from the stairs.
- Yang?
She turned quickly, still wiping her fingers with a tea towel, and crossed the kitchen to the open door that overlooked the living room.
Yang held the banister with one hand and with the other resting gently on her lower back, she carefully descended the steps. Her golden hair was disheveled, falling over one shoulder, and her light yellow sweater slipped behind her like a cloak. Her eyes still bore traces of sleep, but there was a stubborn determination behind the tiredness. Each step was taken firmly. Careful, but firm.
- Honey, what are you doing out of bed?
Yang gave a guilty little smile, her eyes squinting against the brightest light in the room.
- I missed you. - she said simply, as if that justified everything. - And also... I'm hungry. Physically and emotionally, I guess.
Blake was already at the foot of the stairs before Yang had even reached the last step. Her hands rose instinctively, ready to hold on, to support, to trim away any slightest stumble.
- You could have called me. I would have brought everything to you... - she murmured, her voice low, sweet, but with a visible tension under every word.
Yang finally stepped onto the living room floor and accepted Blake's touch on her waist. She let herself be guided to the nearest sofa, laughing softly.
- I know, love. But I needed to move around a bit. Lying down for too long makes me... I don't know. Bloated, bored. Pregnant.
Blake let out a weak laugh, relieved to see that her wife was all right. Still, she knelt down in front of the sofa as soon as Yang sat down, holding her knees with both hands.
- I heard your heart. You picked up the pace as you went down. You pushed a little.
- Maybe. - Yang stroked the vampire's dark hair. - But I'm fine. Really.
Blake didn't reply immediately. Her eyes roamed over Yang's pale skin, looking for any sign of pallor, sweat or subtle tremors. When she found nothing, she took a deep breath and stood up.
- I'll prepare your coffee. And then you can get some rest. Agreed?
Yang raised her hand in false protest.
- But I've just come downstairs!
- So you sit on the sofa and enjoy the view of the coffee being made by your incredibly worried wife. - Blake retorted, already walking back to the kitchen.
Yang sighed, defeated, and settled back into the cushions. She rested her hands on her seven-month-old belly, feeling the subtle weight of life inside. The child was calm at that moment, almost as if it were sleeping with her, and Yang smiled tenderly.
On the other side, Blake finished cleaning up the spills she had left on the counter before she was startled by her wife. She threw away the plastic from the empty bag, wiped the marble top with alcohol, and then finally put the kettle on to heat water for the coffee Yang liked so much. She would prepare something light. Toast. Fruit. And maybe pancakes - if the blonde still had an appetite when the food arrived.
But as she moved things around, she kept listening. The sound of Yang's heart. Her wife's breathing on the sofa.
And, subtly, a second heart. Small. Fragile. Soft.
Blake rested one hand on the counter and closed Her eyes for a moment.
──────
Blake opened the fridge, grabbing the ingredients with efficient, silent gestures. Two slices of wholemeal bread, washed fruit, honey, and a little leftover yogurt that Yang liked. She began to cut up the bananas with a small knife, then the strawberries, arranging everything in a porcelain bowl. The fresh smell of fruit, the warmth of bread fresh out of the toaster and the soft aroma of coffee began to fill the kitchen.
And inevitably, something inside protested.
The nausea came subtly, a light tide that shook her stomach as if to say: this isn't for you.
Blake leaned back a little against the worktop, her eyes closed for a moment. The smell of food, no matter how bland, always brought that feeling: polite revulsion. Her body simply hadn't accepted human food for decades. It wasn't anything drastic, not to the point of fainting or vomiting, but a persistent nausea, as if she were inhaling something that her body perceived as... useless. Almost offensive. But she was used to it.
With daily practice, she learned to ignore the aversion. To endure the aromas, to concentrate on how good it was for Yang. After all, she didn't need to eat the food - she just needed to lovingly prepare it.
She arranged the plates on a wooden tray, carefully placed the cup of tea, picked up a folded cloth napkin and made her way to the living room, footsteps feline and silent.
When she arrived, she found the sweetest sight in the world: Yang, lying on her side on the sofa cushions, her arm wrapped around her stomach and her head slightly tilted forward. Her golden hair formed an unruly halo over the backrest, and her breathing was so soft that it was almost unnoticeable.
Blake stood there for a moment, just watching. Her chest filled with a quiet, reverent warmth. This was the woman she loved, her partner, her home. And there she was - vulnerable, serene, carrying her baby - sleeping as if the outside world were a distant dream, unable to touch her.
With careful movements, Blake approached and placed the tray on the coffee table, making as little noise as possible. She set the plates in place, pulled the cup closer to the edge to make it easier for her wife to reach it when she woke up. The smell of food was still a subtle nuisance, but she ignored it as she did every morning.
She knelt beside the sofa, her eyes fixed on Yang's sleeping face. The blonde's heart was still beating quietly. That sound - and that of the smaller heart, wrapped in liquid and promises - was constant music to Blake.
She reached out with a slow, caressing gesture, brushing a lock of hair away from her lover's forehead. Her cold fingers just brushed the warm skin.
- You're stubborn, but you're my stubborn... - she whispered, in a tone so low it was barely audible.
With care, Blake rested her hand on the blonde's rounded belly. Her cool fingers rested reverently on it, almost as if she were touching something divine - and, for her, in a way, she was.
She began to trace slow, calm circles, small caresses over the skin protected by Yang's thin sweater. A gesture that was as automatic as it was tender. With each movement, her countenance softened even more.
- Hey, little bean... - she murmured softly, her voice choked with love. - Your mommy's asleep again. I think you like that, don't you? Just getting lots of cuddles in the warmth from in there...
Blake closed her eyes for a moment. It still seemed surreal. So much had changed, and yet there they were - alive, together, growing into a family.
Under her hand, a slight movement responded. A subtle pressure. The baby didn't kick, but moved... as if to say: I'm here.
Blake smiled, a small, genuine smile.
- Hmm...
The blonde shifted slightly on the cushions, her golden eyelashes fluttering before she opened her sleepy eyes.
- I nodded off... huh? - her voice came out hoarse, scratchy from sleep, and a little surprised.
- Yes, you did, love. It wasn't even half an hour... - she replied gently, stroking her belly again before removing her hand so as not to disturb her awakening. - You needed it. Your body's been working hard lately.
Yang frowned slightly and slowly straightened up on the sofa, trying to shake off the stupor. Her hand brushed across her eyes, then through her hair, as if the simple act of tidying up was enough to pretend that her body wasn't heavy.
- I really wish I could have helped... - She let out a sigh, looking around. - Have you made the coffee yet?
Blake tilted her head, amused.
- I did. And you're helping. You're creating a human being inside you, love... I think that's enough for today.
- But I... - Yang tried to straighten up a little more, rubbing her face. - I don't want you to do everything yourself. I know you don't even like the smell of food.
Blake just moved closer, resting her hands on the blonde's knees, and then lightly touching her face with her cold fingers.
- And I know you don't like feeling useless. - she murmured. - But you never are, Yang. Not even asleep. Or tired. And I'll never let you carry that weight alone.
Yang's lilac eyes softened. She seemed to want to argue further, but the words got stuck in her throat. Instead, she reached out and gently pulled Blake into a slow, calm kiss that tasted of affection and gratitude.
When they pulled away, Yang whispered.
- I love you, Blake.
- I love you too. - Blake smiled, brushing her forehead against hers. - Now come on. Let's eat. Or rather... you eat, and I'll pretend I don't miss your lovely blood.
Yang let out a sleepy, hearty laugh.
- You'll have to make do with my taste in kisses for now, little vampire.
Blake bit her lower lip, amused.
- Delicious torture.
──────
The sound of water running in the sink echoed softly through the kitchen, mixed with the quiet clink of dishes being placed in the colander. Yang was quietly humming a tune, her golden hair tied up in a loose bun while her hands, with a certain slowness and care, tended to the last of the breakfast dishes.
Blake watched from the doorway, arms crossed, a firm, worried look on her face.
- You should be resting. - she said for the third time. - Or sitting down. Or at least not leaning like that.
Yang looked over her shoulder, an eyebrow arched and a smile playing on her lips.
- What I've been doing most in recent months is resting. I'm pregnant, not sick, Belladonna. - she retorted lightly, rinsing another plate. - And the kitchen needs tidying up. You've already made the coffee... it's only fair that I help out a bit.
Blake sighed and leaned against the doorframe, defeated by the argument she'd heard before - and, deep down, by the knowledge that trying to completely block Yang's gentle stubbornness was a losing battle.
- Just don't try too hard... - she murmured, giving in, but not without casting one last warning glance.
- I promise. - Yang replied with a sweet smile, which the brunette couldn't help but return.
Seeing that she couldn't persuade the blonde to stop, Blake decided to occupy herself for a few minutes. She picked up her phone from the sofa and unlocked it with her thumb, seeing a series of notifications piling up: messages from Ruby, reminders from the doctor, an email from the book publisher where she worked as a freelance proofreader during the night... and a news item about Faunus movements in a nearby village, which she left to read later.
She lost herself in this for a while, answering one message or another with the agility of her fingers and her mind still divided between the content and the constant noise of the water in the background.
The sound of Yang's heart - which she always listened to in the background, as if her own peace depended on it - quickened a little. Not in panic, but as if annoyed. Blake immediately looked up from her phone.
Yang was standing at the sink, one hand still holding a wet plate, the other gently pressing her belly with her fingers. Her face, although still calm, showed a discreet discomfort.
The vampire approached in an instant.
- Yang? - she called out, her voice soft but already full of attention. - What's wrong?
The blonde blinked slowly and let out a small sigh, before putting her plate in the drainer and drying her hands on the cloth hanging next to the sink.
- Nothing much... just... a slight cramp. - she replied, trying to reassure her with a smile. - The doctor said it's normal at this point in pregnancy. It's just the baby moving more.
Blake frowned at her and her amber eyes scanned every line of her wife's face, looking for any sign that she was downplaying something more serious.
- You should have called me. I told you you shouldn't have been standing for so long...
Yang laughed softly, leaning on the bench with her free hand. - It's not my fault for standing up, love... it's just my body working. I was just going to finish up here so we could go upstairs.
Blake moved closer, with slow, delicate movements, as if approaching something fragile - even though she knew Yang was anything but. Still, at that moment... she was everything Blake wanted to protect.
- Then finish it with me. - The brunette slipped her arm around her wife's waist, supporting her as she leaned down to kiss the top of her head. - And then you surrender and lie down with me. No stubbornness, no negotiation.
Yang laughed against her wife's shoulder, the sound low and warm.
- Yes, bossy vampire lady...
- That was a compliment.
Blake smiled, but her eyes were still on the blonde's posture, the way she moved, her breathing, which seemed a little deeper than usual. Even if she trusted the doctor's word, even if she knew that small cramps were part of the process... the fear of losing Yang or the baby, even for a small mistake, was a weight that never completely left her.
──────
The room was silent, softly lit by the faint light coming through the ajar curtains. The atmosphere inside was peaceful, welcoming, with the distant sound of the branches outside swaying in the wind, like a low trail to what was happening between the walls.
Blake entered first, guiding Yang with her hand resting gently on the base of her back. The kisses had begun in the corridor - slow at first, as they always were, until they became more charged with desire and need.
As they crossed the threshold, Yang's back was gently pushed against the door, which closed with a soft click behind her. Blake kept her body close, one hand resting on the curve of the blonde's waist, while the other moved slowly up to the soft face she loved so much.
Their lips met again with fervor - there was no rush, but there was no hesitation either. It was a contained hunger, shaped by days of restrained touch and constant worry, by nights when Blake would just cuddle her wife to sleep and by mornings when Yang would wake up to silent kisses on her belly.
Now, the kiss was an outburst without words.
- Blake... - Yang whispered between pauses in the contact, her breathing already a little deeper. She tangled her fingers in her wife's dark hair and smiled against her lips.
Blake sighed before her name was even finished, her forehead resting against Yang's.
- I love hearing my name in your voice... - Her voice came out like an oath.
Yang smiled, a little shyly, a little teasingly, and led Blake by the hand to the bed, carefully sitting down on the edge before lying down on her side. Blake followed, positioning herself behind her naturally, fitting their bodies together with the delicacy of someone who knew every inch of the other.
The brunette slipped an arm around her bare thighs, her hand resting reverently on the soft flesh. She kissed her neck gently, once, twice, then let her lips rest there while her body adjusted to hers.
There was no urgency. There was no rush.
Every touch was thought out, calculated, tested. Yang's body was a sanctuary for Blake, and now - pregnant, vulnerable, even more precious - she touched it as if it were made of crystal.
Yang shivered with every whispered kiss, every slide of her fingers in just the right places. Her hand searched for Blake's on her intimate area and squeezed lightly, guiding the rhythm, saying without words that it was okay. That she wanted it, that she missed that connection too.
- I need you - ah... inside... - she whispered, between sighs.
And Blake obeyed her, always devoted to her, slowly inserting two fingers into her wife's dilated entrance, feeling the moist walls squeeze her fingers.
They made love there, with the slowness of those who knew that love lives in the details. That to love is to listen, to measure each gesture so that the other is comfortable. Yang let little sounds of pleasure escape between warm sighs, her head tilted back slightly, nestled on Blake's shoulder.
And Blake...
Blake just lost herself in her.
In her half-lidded eyes, in the warmth of her skin, in the racing sound of her heart. A two-part rhythm that filled the room with something sacred and eternal.
When they finished, they were entwined under the sheets, their breathing gradually slowing down, their bodies still warm and their hearts in tune.
Blake kissed Yang's shoulder once more and murmured.
- Thank you for trusting me.
Yang smiled, turning slowly to look into her wife's golden eyes.
- Always. Until the end of the world.
They fell asleep like that, in a tight, protected embrace, while outside the world went on at its own pace - but there, in that room, everything was love.