𝟎𝟏𝟐. 𝐁𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 & 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒

Delilah Swan was quite simply stressed.

It wasn't the regular type of stress—like worrying about a big test or a particularly nasty rumor. No, her stress came layered, almost suffocating. Since entering high school, she had been known for her confidence, her laser-focused drive, and an almost infuriating ability to give her all no matter the odds. But senior year was an entirely different beast.

Her life, far from normal to begin with, was on the verge of spiraling. A vampire boyfriend who would fight to the death for her? Check. A close-knit group of friends, also vampires, and humans, with their own set of quirks and challenges? Double check. A sister who had taken "teen angst" to new heights? Triple check. And her dad—blissfully unaware of the supernatural chaos surrounding him—was dangerously close to marrying a woman so perfect Delilah sometimes felt like she should have proposed first.

Still, she carried it all, even if it was a precarious balancing act.

Since prom had come and gone, the senior class had settled into the rhythm of "coasting mode." For most, it was all about skipping classes to hang out, planning senior pranks, or daydreaming about the future. But for Delilah, there was no "coasting." There was top academic achiever to secure, a speech to write for graduation as valedictorian, college applications to finalize, and—oh, right—the occasional supernatural crisis to navigate.

Her boyfriend, Evander Denali, noticed before anyone else. He always did. It wasn't just his heightened senses as a vampire, though those helped. It was how he noticed the little things—her nails tapping nervously on her books, the way her breathing quickened when she thought about deadlines, the exhaustion in her voice even when she tried to mask it with a laugh.

One evening, Evander found her in her room, surrounded by notes and textbooks, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep. "Sweetheart," he said softly, leaning against the doorframe with his usual unflappable calm, returning after just helping Mabel carry some boxes.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, not even looking up from her laptop.

"Uh-huh," Evander replied, stepping closer his legs hitting her mattress as he leaned down slightly. His golden eyes narrowed as he tilted her chin up gently. "You've got exactly two options here. One, you let me take you out for some air and a break, and to get a treat. Two, I sit here and critique every sentence of that speech until you beg for mercy."

Delilah let out a groan, half-annoyed and half-amused. "You're insufferable."

"And yet, you love me," he said with a smirk, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Come on. Just an hour. You can rant about how everyone else is slacking while you carry the entire senior class on your back."

She couldn't help but laugh. "Fine. But only because I don't trust you to rewrite my speech." Knowing full well he was more than capable to write one of the best speeches.

Saturday rolled around, and as usual, Delilah found herself at the Cullen house. Normally, it was a hive of activity. Between her friends, the Cullens, and the constant buzz of human and supernatural life, it wasn't exactly a quiet space. But today? It was unusually calm. The television, which was typically the centerpiece of chaos, was turned down to a low hum. On the screen, Buffy the Vampire Slayer played, its iconic theme music just barely audible.

On the plush rug by the coffee table, Delilah and her best friend Braelyn Quinn were cocooned in fluffy blankets. Each girl nursed a steaming cup of hot chocolate, the whipped cream melting just enough to blend into the drink. Both wore their boyfriends' oversized hoodies, the fabric soft and comforting.

Delilah had her notes spread out in front of her, shifting between her valedictorian speech and studying for their next biology exam. Her sock-clad feet crossed and uncrossed anxiously. It was hard to focus. The words on the page blurred together.

Across the room, Rhyland, who didn't really need to study, lounged on the couch. He was watching Buffy with an expression that screamed "unimpressed," though the occasional smirk betrayed his amusement.

"Wait," Rhyland said, sitting up a little. "So she's supposed to be a vampire slayer, but she spends half her time making out with one?"

Delilah rolled her eyes without looking up from her notes. "You're oversimplifying it. There's nuance."

"Nuance," Rhyland repeated, deadpan. "Sure. Because every vampire show needs a brooding, conflicted love interest."

"Hey!" Delilah shot him a glare, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. "Buffy is iconic, okay? Don't pretend you're not into it. I saw you rewind the last fight scene."

Rhyland shrugged, leaning back lazily. "Maybe I just like good choreography. Doesn't mean I'm 'into it.'"

Braelyn snorted, nudging Delilah with her elbow. "He totally loves it. Last week, I caught him googling 'best Buffy episodes.' I think he's secretly Team Angel."

"Traitor!" Rhyland exclaimed, mock-offended.

The room erupted in laughter, the kind that left Delilah's chest lighter, her earlier stress momentarily forgotten.

Braelyn sat closest to Rhyland on the couch, her head tilted slightly as his hand moved in slow, lazy circles against her temple. His other arm was stretched along the back of the couch, his whole demeanor exuding that casual, almost feline ease vampires seemed to perfect. He wasn't much for studying—she'd teased him endlessly about it—but he was here, offering his unique brand of moral support for his girlfriend as she tackled her first (and probably only) human graduation.

Delilah couldn't help but grin as she watched them. Rhyland's expression was as neutral as ever, but there was a softness in his actions, a quiet tenderness as Braelyn leaned into his touch. Her best friend looked so happy, a light in her eyes that hadn't always been there, and it filled Delilah with a deep sense of contentment. Braelyn was more than a best friend; she was family. Closer than Isabella Swan, who was technically her sister, but had never felt like one.

Braelyn glanced up, catching Delilah staring, and smirked. "What's with the goofy grin, Swannie?"

"Nothing, Quinnie," Delilah replied, the corners of her mouth twitching up further. "Just basking in how disgustingly adorable you two are. If you get any cuter, I might throw up."

"Jealousy doesn't suit you," Braelyn teased, sticking her tongue out before settling back against Rhyland, who chuckled softly.

"She's right, though," Rhyland said, his voice laced with dry amusement. "We are adorable."

Delilah's own boyfriend, Evander, wasn't here to share the moment. She'd practically had to shove him out the door earlier that afternoon. He had been reluctant to leave her, even for a hunting trip with Emmett and Jasper, but she had insisted he go. "You're no good to me if you're starving and cranky," she'd told him, hands on her hips.

His response had been typical Evander—sly grin, a whispered promise to bring her back something nice no doubt running into town to bring back her favourite pastries (she'd rolled her eyes at that), and a long, lingering kiss, or multiple that left him swooning for her, it had become their tradition after all, before he finally left. Still, his absence left the other side of the coffee table next to the open couch cold, an emptiness she felt acutely despite knowing he'd be back soon.

The Cullen household itself was unusually quiet. Alice and Rosalie had gone shopping—probably dragging half the mall back with them a promise from the pixie like vampire that she'd be shopping for her and Braelyn too. Esme and Carlisle were out grocery shopping to keep up with the fact that they now had two humans to feed. And Edward? Well, he was most likely with Bella, either at the Swan house or lurking in the woods.

With everyone gone, the house felt strange. Peaceful, but strange. It gave her too much time to think, and thinking wasn't exactly her friend these days.

Delilah was pulled from her thoughts when Rhyland suddenly yelled at the TV. "Are you kidding me? She stabs him in the chest, and he just forgives her? That's not love. That's trauma bonding."

Braelyn groaned, shifting her notes aside. "Rhy, if you don't stop yelling, I'm going to stake you."

"Good luck with that," Rhyland shot back, smirking.

Delilah couldn't stop the giggle that escaped her. She knew Rhyland was enjoying Buffy way more than he let on. The over-the-top grumbling, the commentary on every decision Buffy made, and the way his gaze never strayed from the screen all gave him away.

"Admit it," Delilah said, leaning over the coffee table to give him a pointed look. "You love it."

"I do not," he replied, though his tone lacked any real conviction.

Braelyn rolled her eyes, gathering her blanket before standing and making her way to the couch. She dropped her notes onto the coffee table and flopped on top of Rhyland, wrapping them both in the fluffy blanket Delilah had gifted her for Christmas.

"Move," Braelyn mumbled, though she didn't give him a chance to as she tucked her head perfectly under his chin. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, his lips brushing the top of her head.

Rhyland sighed theatrically, though his eyes stayed glued to the TV. "I'm just here to suffer, apparently."

"Shh," Braelyn murmured. "You're ruining my moment."

Delilah laughed softly at the sight of them. It was adorable, no matter how much she teased. Grabbing her digital camera from her bag, she snapped a couple of candid photos, the sound of the shutter catching Braelyn's attention.

"Did you just take a picture of us?" Braelyn asked, her tone mock-accusatory.

"Maybe," Delilah replied innocently, setting the camera down.

"You better send me those later," Braelyn muttered before settling back into Rhyland's arms.

Delilah sat back down with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. She'd been staring at her notes for too long, and the lines between studying, speech-writing, and daydreaming had started to blur. In just two weeks, she'd be standing on a stage, saying goodbye to high school and embracing whatever came next. It felt surreal. She wasn't sure if she was ready.

The house grew louder suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. She hadn't even noticed when the Cullen family returned. She jumped slightly when a cool hand brushed her shoulder. Her heart raced, her pulse drumming like a steam engine in her chest.

"Relax, princess," came Evander's smooth voice, dropping a bag of still warm pastries in the table as she turned to face him.

"Don't sneak up on me!" she scolded, swatting at him halfheartedly.

Looking up, Delilah was met with the familiar, breathtaking sight of Evander Denali's golden eyes. His gaze was filled with concern, the corners of his mouth pulling slightly downward as he crouched beside her. Without saying a word, he slid down onto the floor behind her, long legs propped up on either side of her body, and pulled her back against his chest. His lips brushed feather-light over her cheek, sending a soft shiver down her spine.

"Princess," he murmured, voice low and soothing. "When was the last time you actually took a break?"

She exhaled shakily, realizing only then that she'd been holding her breath. "I'm fine, baby," she said, though the words sounded unconvincing even to her.

He let out a soft huff of disbelief, his hands slipping around her waist as if to anchor her. "You're always 'fine,' aren't you?" His voice was teasing, but the concern in his tone didn't waver. "Except your idea of fine means running yourself into the ground."

Delilah sighed, leaning back into him despite herself. Her eyes fluttered shut as the tension in her body began to melt away. "I have to finish studying," she mumbled, though the conviction in her voice was weak.

"No, you don't," he said firmly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "You've done enough today. More than enough. You know the biology textbook like the back of your hand. If you won't take care of yourself, I'll do it for you."

Delilah let out a soft laugh, her lips curving into a smile. "Bossy much?"

"Absolutely," he replied without hesitation, pressing another kiss to her temple. "Especially when it comes to you."

She didn't fight him. For once, she couldn't summon the energy to argue. Instead, she allowed herself to be scooped up effortlessly as he stood, cradling her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Evander moved toward the longer couch in the family room, his steps smooth and silent.

"Evander, I can walk, you know," she murmured, though her arms instinctively curled around his neck.

"Sure, you could," he said, smirking down at her. "But why would you want to when you have me?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips.

He settled onto the couch, stretching out with her tucked securely against him. The soft blanket she'd been using was adjusted between her and the plush couch, and he nestled her against his chest, one arm draped around her shoulders while his other hand began a slow, comforting motion—brushing up and down her side, tracing light patterns over her hip.

A contented sigh escaped her lips as she relaxed fully into his embrace. She tilted her head back slightly to look at him, her eyes soft with gratitude and affection. Reaching up, she placed a lingering kiss on his lips—gentle, unhurried, and full of warmth.

"You're too good to me," she whispered against his lips before settling back down against his chest.

"I just know how to take care of my girl," he replied, the hint of a smile in his voice as he tightened his arms around her.

It didn't take long for Delilah to drift off, the steady rhythm of his hand brushing against her side lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Her breathing evened out, her body completely relaxed against his. Evander stayed still, his gaze flickering to the TV where Rhyland was still engrossed in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

"Are you actually enjoying this, or are you just too lazy to change the channel?" Evander asked quietly, smirking at the other vampire.

Rhyland glanced over, arching an eyebrow. "What can I say? The show grows on you."

Evander chuckled softly, careful not to disturb Delilah. "Sure it does."

The peace was short-lived as the front door opened, and Alice burst into the house with her usual burst of energy, her voice already launching into rapid chatter. "You will not believe the sales they're having today! Rosalie and I—"

"Shh!" Rhyland and Evander hissed in unison, their eyes darting toward Delilah, still fast asleep against Evander's chest.

Alice froze, pouting dramatically as she lowered her voice. "Well, excuse me for being excited. You guys are such killjoys."

Rosalie walked in behind her, smirking at the scene. "You two watching Buffy? That's rich. I didn't think you were the type for cheesy teen dramas."

Rhyland shrugged, unbothered. "It's got its moments."

Before Alice could retort, her gaze turned mischievous. "Oh, guess what? The weather's going to be perfect for baseball later today!"

That got everyone's attention. Rhyland perked up slightly, his usual disinterest giving way to a flicker of excitement. Even Evander's eyes lit up at the mention of their favorite family tradition.

"I'm in," Rhyland said immediately. "But I'm not on Alice's team. She cheats."

"I do not cheat!" Alice protested, crossing her arms.

"You're literally psychic," he shot back. "It's impossible for you to not cheat."

As the playful bickering continued, the door opened again, and Edward strolled in, looking as brooding as ever. His gaze flickered around the room, landing briefly on Delilah still curled up against Evander.

"Bella's fine, by the way," he said, unprompted, as if answering a question no one had asked.

"Nobody asked, about your human, Edweirdo." Evander replied dryly, not even looking up.

Edward ignored the jab, his expression softening slightly as he took in the lively scene. The Cullens may have been an unconventional family, but moments like these reminded him why they worked so well.

Evander lied on the couch with Delilah still resting against him, his hand absentmindedly brushing through her hair as the family continued their chatter about later's game. The excitement was palpable—everyone loved immortal baseball. Well, almost everyone.

Edward, leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed, cleared his throat. "I think I'll bring Bella."

The room stilled for a moment. The collective reaction was almost comical: Rosalie rolled her eyes so hard it looked like they might get stuck, Rhyland let out a loud groan, and even Emmett muttered, "Oh, for crying out loud." Carlisle, always the calmest in the group, stopped packing away the groceries and looked up at his first son, his expression neutral but his tone measured.

"If you think that's best, Edward," Carlisle said, though there was an edge to his voice. It was subtle, but everyone who knew him could hear it. "I just hope you're prepared for what that might mean."

Evander couldn't resist a snort, his lips pulling into a smirk as he leaned back against the couch. "Right. Because what Bella needs right now is to be thrown into a high-stakes, supernatural baseball game with thunderclaps and people who can hit home runs into the next county."

Edward shot him a glare, his jaw tightening. "She'll be fine, Evander."

"Oh, sure," Evander replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Evvy," Delilah mumbled sleepily, her voice soft and muffled against his chest. She didn't lift her head, but her hand gave a weak tug at his shirt, as if to remind him not to push too hard.

Evander glanced down at her, his expression softening instantly. "Sorry, princess. Didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," she murmured, though her voice was already trailing off again.

Edward, clearly annoyed but choosing not to engage further, turned and left the room. He'd probably be back within the hour, Bella in tow.

As the conversation shifted back to the game, Evander gently shifted Delilah in his arms. She barely stirred, her body limp with exhaustion, and he stood effortlessly, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

"I'm putting her in bed," he announced to the room.

"Good call," Esme said with a warm smile. "She looks like she needs it."

Evander carried Delilah up the stairs, his movements careful and deliberate so as not to jostle her. Once in his room, he laid her down gently on his bed, adjusting the pillows and comforter around her. She stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open just enough to meet his.

"Hey," she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

"Hey, pretty girl," he replied softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His cool fingers traced her cheek, and she leaned into his touch instinctively.

"Are you leaving?" she asked, though the effort to keep her eyes open was visibly draining her.

"I have to get ready for the game," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "But I wanted to make sure you're comfortable first."

She hummed in response, her lips curving into a small, sleepy smile. "You're too good to me. Thank you for my pastries."

"You deserve it," he replied, his voice low and full of affection.

Evander moved around the room quietly, pulling on his baseball uniform piece by piece. The fitted shirt clung to his lean frame, the crisp white and navy contrasting against his pale skin. Delilah, though half-asleep, couldn't help but watch him through half-lidded eyes.

"You look... really good," she mumbled, her voice still drowsy but laced with genuine appreciation.

Evander turned, smirking at her. "Yeah?"

"Uh-huh," she said, her smile growing slightly. "Super handsome."

He chuckled, moving to her side and leaning down to brush a kiss against her lips. It was soft and lingering, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he pulled back. "Get some rest, my love. You need it."

"Mm, fine," she murmured, her head sinking deeper into the pillows.

With one last glance, Evander left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Downstairs, the energy was already buzzing as the family finalized their plans for tomorrow. Edward returned, looking smug as ever, and confirmed that Bella would be joining them.

Evander groaned inwardly but said nothing. Instead, he flopped onto the couch next to Rhyland, who was still watching Buffy.

"Why do you let him get under your skin?" Rhyland asked, not even looking away from the screen.

"Because he's Edward," Evander replied simply. "Existing is enough to irritate me."

"That's fair," Rhyland said with a shrug.

The sound of laughter filled the room as Emmett cracked a joke about Bella needing a helmet for the game, and Alice began enthusiastically explaining the weather forecast. Despite the chaos, Evander's thoughts drifted upstairs to Delilah, now peacefully asleep in his bed.

Whatever tomorrow brought, he'd make sure she was taken care of. That much, at least, he could control.

━━━━━━━━━━━

a/n: i adore Brae and Rhy with my entire heart!
and my sweet sweet angels! guys I'm obsessed.

remember to vote and comment <3