Bondage is of the mind; freedom too is of the mind. (Slayer!verse, post rescue)

[with_aprice]

She was afraid.  his wife wasn't afraid of many things, but he was one rare exception.  She wasn't afraid of him, but rather for him.  Afraid that he was fragile, or worse, broken beyond repair.  Afraid that she, with her strength, could hurt him in his weakness

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[onceaheroine]

Belle was something of a restless sleeper these days. Before his disappearance, she slept the deep sleep of the innocent, in spite of everything she'd seen and done. Once she'd had to relearn how to sleep alone, it was fitful, and now, eternally conscious of his presence and injuries, she slept lightly in case he needed her.

It wasn't long before her inability to turn over onto her side registered enough that her eyes blearily fluttered open, and shied away from the light to look at him... and then up to her bound wrists.

Confusion and lust coiled together, and Belle swallowed before finding her voice. "Nick?"

[with_aprice]

Nick, who might have slept comfortably in boxers once, or nothing at all, now wore an undershirt, pajama pants and socks. Even on warm nights he tended towards cold, now. It was hard to be cold, though, looking at his beautiful wife.

"Hello, love." He let one hand rest on her stomach, a warm and solid presence meant to comfort her. His other hand lightly stroked her cheek, again a move meant more to calm than arouse.

"I've been doing some thinking."

[onceaheroine]

"So it would seem," Belle observed. She glanced up towards her wrists, gauging the material he'd chosen to bind her with; if pushed, she could break it, she was sure.

"What about, love?"

[with_aprice]

"You and me. Love. Fear. Intimacy. Just a little light thinking." He belt to kiss the forearm closest to him.

"You're afraid of hurting me."