A soft tap had him looking down at the little creature in his arms. “Lights?” she asked. “Can you make the lights?” “Are you afraid again?” he asked, his voice a low rumble in his chest. At her shiver, he sighed. Of course, he had to be thrown in the direction of a creature who was terrified of the dark. She feared so many things, likely, that he would have to spend the rest of his obsession catering to her every whim. She was weak. But he still started with the rhythm of lights that went up and down his shoulder, trying his best to ignore the way her fingers tapped each one out of existence
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