But the Nest corner calls with magnetic pull I can't resist.
The cushioned area is massive—easily accommodating multiple bodies, layered with materials in complementary textures and colors. Pillows in various sizes, blankets that look handwoven, and padding that promises support without uncomfortable firmness.
I don't walk so much as launch myself—cannonball dive into cushions that receive my weight with perfect give, surrounding me in softness that makes every muscle immediately relax.
"Holy shit," I breathe with reverent appreciation. "This is fucking SOFT. How is this so soft? What magic did you employ?"
Bear laughs—rich sound that fills space with warmth.
"Custom order from a local artisan who specializes in Omega nest construction. Explained your preferences based on observation, and she created a specifically tailored solution."
They commissioned custom nest materials.
From a specialist.
Based on observing my preferences, I hadn't consciously articulated.
"Get in here," I demand with authority that brooks no argument. "All of you. Immediately. This softness requires group appreciation."
They hesitate—briefly consulting each other with glances, silently negotiating who goes first and where they'll position themselves.
"Now," I insist with impatience. "Before I fall asleep, and you miss the optimal experience."
Calder moves first—trusting my invitation enough to commit, settling beside me with careful positioning that avoids crowding. His hand finds my waist with possessive comfort.
"Acceptable softness," he pronounces with theatrical criticism. "Seven out of ten. Would benefit from—oh fuck, this is incredible actually."
His sentence trails off as he sinks deeper into cushions, body relaxing against apparent intention.
Aidric follows with more reservation—testing stability before fully committing weight, professionally assessing structural integrity even while surrendering to comfort.
"Adequate," he declares with stubborn refusal to admit complete satisfaction. "Functional for intended purpose with—yes, okay, this is exceptional.I concede the point."
Bear and Silas join simultaneously—a flanking arrangement that puts me securely in the center, surrounded by warmth and scent and solid presence.
"Could stay like this forever," I murmur as exhaustion finally claims me completely. "Right here, exactly like this, permanent nest residence with occasional breaks for sustenance."
"Agreed," Bear rumbles with satisfaction. "Optimal pack configuration. Moving is prohibited except for biological necessities."
Silas's clinical assessment arrives on schedule: "Sleep is a biological necessity currently asserting itself. Recommend surrendering to unconsciousness before attempting continued conversation."
"Bossy doctor," I mumble with affection. "Always bossing people toward health."
Their laughter surrounds me—four different timbres blending into harmony that feels like home sounds.
This is peace.
True, genuine peace rather than just the absence of an immediate threat.
Safety beyond just physical protection, encompassing emotional security and psychological comfort, and the particularrelaxation that only emerges when surrounded by people who actually care about your well-being.
For the first time since?—
Actually, for the first time ever…
I recognize with startling clarity.
This feeling, this absolute certainty that I belong exactly where I am, that these people want me not despite my complications but including them, that this arrangement isn't a compromise but a genuine preference?—
