A faint, genuine smile breaks through the tension on Willow's face as she looks down at the puppy, before reaching down to smooth the soft fur between Xena's ears.
"Well," Willow murmurs. "At least the emotional support unit is on duty."
Willow brings three mugs over to the island, setting them down on the marble, the steam rising between us in quiet white curls. She slides one over to me and another to Jade before settling onto the barstool across us, her hands wrapping tightly around her cup for warmth.
"Everything about this club still terrifies me," Willow admits. "A few weeks ago, my life was completely normal. I thought Stitch was just... Stitch. I didn't understand what it meant when he put that leather cut on. I didn't know what kind of world he actually lived in."
She pauses,
