“Good. Now let us soothe you, Pen. We got you, okay?” Zayn murmurs, his hands firm but gentle, matching the pressure of Xeno’s fingers. I nod, and for long minutes the pair massage my aching muscles, easing some of the tension I feel. When my eyelids begin to droop, Xeno presses a gentle kiss against the top of my head. “Get under the covers, Tiny.” Zayn’s hands fall away, and he grips the mattress either side of my hips before standing. Leaning over, he presses a delicate kiss against my lips. “I love you, Pen,” he whispers.
