Rest for the Relentless
“When’s the last time you actually slept?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern as you looked at Sergei. He was seated on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. Despite his formidable strength, it was clear even he had limits, though he rarely acknowledged them.
He grunted in response, not bothering to meet your gaze. Instead, he busied himself with sharpening a blade, the rhythmic scrape of metal against stone filling the silence.
“Sergei,” you pressed, moving closer. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, stilling his movements. “You can’t keep going like this. Even you need rest.”
He finally looked up, his piercing eyes meeting yours. “There is no time for rest,” he said, his voice low and rough. “The hunt does not pause for weakness.”
“It’s not weakness,” you countered, your tone firm but kind. “It’s survival. You can’t protect anyone if you collapse from exhaustion.”
Sergei’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he sighed deeply, the sound heavy with weariness. “Perhaps you are right,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But only if you stay.”
You smiled softly, nodding. “I’ll stay.”
The cabin was quiet, the only sound the faint crackle of the fireplace. Sergei sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees, while you busied yourself setting aside the sharpening stone and blade. His exhaustion was evident in the droop of his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, and the faint tremor in his hands.
“You don’t have to carry everything on your shoulders, you know,” you said softly, returning to his side. “Even the strongest need help sometimes.”
Sergei huffed a quiet laugh, though it held little humor. “Help is a luxury I cannot afford. My enemies would take any sign of weakness as an opportunity.”
You crouched in front of him, placing a hand on his knee. “I’m not your enemy, Sergei. Let me help you.”
For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes searching your face as if weighing your words. Finally, he gave a small nod, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You are… persistent,” he said, a hint of fondness in his tone.
“I have to be,” you replied with a smile. “Someone has to take care of you.”
He shook his head, though his lips twitched upward in the faintest of smiles. “Very well,” he said. “But do not expect me to be an easy patient.”
You chuckled. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Gently, you guided him to lie back on the bed, arranging the blankets around him. Sergei allowed you to fuss over him, though you could tell it wasn’t a familiar experience for him. He was a man who thrived on control, on being the protector, and letting someone else care for him was clearly a challenge.
“Close your eyes,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “I’ll be right here.”
Sergei’s eyes remained open for a moment longer, his gaze fixed on you. “You make it sound so easy,” he murmured.
“It can be,” you replied. “If you let it.”
Finally, he relented, his eyes slipping closed. You stayed by his side, your hand resting lightly on his arm, offering a sense of grounding and safety. The rise and fall of his chest became steadier, his breaths deeper, as the exhaustion he’d been holding at bay finally claimed him.
Hours passed, and Sergei’s sleep remained undisturbed. You stayed close, content to watch over him, your mind drifting as the firelight cast flickering shadows across the room. It wasn’t often you saw him like this—vulnerable, at rest. The weight he carried was immense, and yet he bore it with unwavering strength. Seeing him like this reminded you of the man behind the hunter, the human beneath the warrior.
When he finally stirred, his eyes opening slowly, there was a brief moment of disorientation before his gaze found yours. He blinked, as if surprised to see you still there.
“You stayed,” he said, his voice rough with sleep.
“Of course I did,” you replied, smiling softly. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”
He shook his head, sitting up slowly. “No. But it… means more than you know.”
You reached out, placing a hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to do everything alone, Sergei. I’m here. Always.”
For a moment, he said nothing, his hand covering yours where it rested on his face. His eyes softened, the fierce intensity giving way to something gentler. “And I am grateful,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Though I may not always show it.”
“You show it,” you assured him. “In your own way.”
He smiled faintly, the expression rare but genuine. “Then I will rest again. For you.”
As Sergei settled back against the pillows, you remained by his side, the quiet companionship filling the room with a sense of peace. For once, the hunter was at ease, and you knew that, together, you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.