#and shaan and henry are long suffering about that fact

[cricketnationrise]

hiiii this is for the ficlet fest !!!! shaan srivastava, the white house, 3:14am 😎

thank you for the prompt! i haven't written shaan's POV before, so this was really cool. enjoy! 💜🦗

want your own ficlet? TWO DAYS LEFT rules here.

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

white house, 3:14am

“Are you done packing your office?” Shaan asks, coming up behind Zahra and dropping a kiss to the nape of her neck.

“I’ve been packed for a week, Srivastava, you know that.”

Shaan hums. He does know that. The neatly stacked boxes of her things have already been whisked away by the efficient White House resident staff earlier tonight.

“If you’re fishing about my mental state about tomorrow being the Inauguration for the next president and therefore the end of Ellen Claremont’s time in the White House, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”

He pulls her closer. Her words are all prickle and fire, but her body sags into his, letting Shaan hold her steady for once.

“I figured I’d give you an opening if you wanted to take it.”

Zahra just sighs, looking around at her (almost former) office. All of Zahra’s files and extra clothes and knick-knacks that Alex buys her that she pretends not to keep, are gone – only the furniture remaining. The room seems to be slumbering, or maybe holding its breath, ready for the next occupant.

“Ask me again in a week. I’ll be bored of downtime by then.”

“Deal.”

There’s a clatter in the hallway, then loud shushing noises and the careful click of a door. Shaan moves the pair of them to the doorway, curious as to who else is moving around the West Wing at three in the morning but— Ah, he should have guessed.

Through the door to the veranda, a pair of young men’s silhouettes are visible in the moonlight on the way to the garden. Alex is in front, one of his hands tangled with one of Henry’s, leading the way. Shaan drops a kiss on the top of Zahra’s head, overcome with pride for the pair of them.

Zahra makes a noise somewhere between disbelief and delight. “Those sappy little shits.”

“I wouldn’t throw stones, love – they aren’t the only ones doing a grand farewell tour of this place.”

“Yeah, but I do it with class,” she says, spinning in his arms and throwing her own over his neck. It’s been four years since he proposed, but Shaan still tracks the glint of the diamond on her engagement ring with a rush of joy. It’s even stronger since it was joined by her wedding ring last year.

Zahra rises up on her toes and he ducks his head to make it easier for her to kiss him. It’s a quick kiss, more of a peck, but she says so much with her body that never makes it past her lips. Shaan’s spent so long learning this silent language of hers, that it’s easy to parse the love and relief and exhaustion and sadness that she pushes into his mouth. He gathers all of it up and tucks it into his own heart – he’ll carry it for her for a while. For as long as she wants him to.

“Let’s go – for once I don’t have to commute here in the morning, we should make the most of it.”

“After you,” he says, stepping back and letting her lead the way toward the Residence. She reaches one hand back to tangle her fingers through his.