[If she's honest, this isn't how she expected things to go. Or rather, this wasn't what she intended. She is learning that this is simply the way for them and that, perhaps, it was inevitable in the end, but when she brought him out with the idea of the hot springs, it wasn't to end up here, like this. Kissing him like this. Being with him like this. Now, she realizes, she'd been a fool to think otherwise.
But when she had shown up at his workshop the moment that she could, it was because she knew where he would be. It was a toss-up whether he would be hunched over a bottle of whiskey or his sketches, but what she was sure of was that he would be buried in his work as he is wont to do when the stress comes for him. It was always his way... and she would have to swoop in and wrestle the lines away from between his brow, she would smooth them out with a kiss as she shoved herself between him and his work after a long time away.
And this was no different, regardless of how they have changed both together and individually. Some things just remain the same, no matter how far apart they have grown, or how close they become. Benedikta was never one to offer empty reassurances, especially when they both knew the reality of things, and this—everything that she has done today—was the only way she knows how.
It was never meant to comfort him, that was someone else's job. Rather, to pull him free of that slump that he had sunk himself into. She would drag him out if she had to because the truth is that she hates that version of him. She wanted that Cidolfus that she knows well—the one with the cocky grin and the easy laugh, the one with that glint of mischief always shining in his eyes. The Cidolfus that knows all the hundred little ways to push her buttons and get under her skin. The one that knows how to make her feel something.
She finally found him, and she does not intend to let him go.
If this is the only way that she can hold on, then so be it. Let this be that distraction that keeps him here. It's a language that they both understand. A comfort that they can both lose themselves in and forget for just a little while—something that Benedikta herself needs, too.
A distraction from those pesky feelings that rise up every time she sees that little pang of sadness in those green eyes of his. A distraction from those darker, sadder thoughts that ripple through her every now and again, reminding her that this is the only place where they can be... and if he were to choose to return to Midadol, then...
Indeed, what transpires in the pool is more than physical intimacy and that much-needed release. Whatever it is for him, it is as genuine for her too. She may not ever speak the thought into the world, keeping it to herself, but he will feel it in her touch, her lips, the way she whispers his name... And she receives it from him in a way that is easier for her heart to process. All of it.
She just hopes that he does too.
So when she finds herself spent and relaxed, resting against his side, her head on his shoulder and idly bringing her hand up to let the water trickle over his chest, she lifts her gaze up to his when he finally speaks, that smile he flashes her doing all sorts of annoying things to her heart. She takes it, and lifts it to her lips.]
... I thought you'd never ask. About time we had some.
no subject
But when she had shown up at his workshop the moment that she could, it was because she knew where he would be. It was a toss-up whether he would be hunched over a bottle of whiskey or his sketches, but what she was sure of was that he would be buried in his work as he is wont to do when the stress comes for him. It was always his way... and she would have to swoop in and wrestle the lines away from between his brow, she would smooth them out with a kiss as she shoved herself between him and his work after a long time away.
And this was no different, regardless of how they have changed both together and individually. Some things just remain the same, no matter how far apart they have grown, or how close they become. Benedikta was never one to offer empty reassurances, especially when they both knew the reality of things, and this—everything that she has done today—was the only way she knows how.
It was never meant to comfort him, that was someone else's job. Rather, to pull him free of that slump that he had sunk himself into. She would drag him out if she had to because the truth is that she hates that version of him. She wanted that Cidolfus that she knows well—the one with the cocky grin and the easy laugh, the one with that glint of mischief always shining in his eyes. The Cidolfus that knows all the hundred little ways to push her buttons and get under her skin. The one that knows how to make her feel something.
She finally found him, and she does not intend to let him go.
If this is the only way that she can hold on, then so be it. Let this be that distraction that keeps him here. It's a language that they both understand. A comfort that they can both lose themselves in and forget for just a little while—something that Benedikta herself needs, too.
A distraction from those pesky feelings that rise up every time she sees that little pang of sadness in those green eyes of his. A distraction from those darker, sadder thoughts that ripple through her every now and again, reminding her that this is the only place where they can be... and if he were to choose to return to Midadol, then...
Indeed, what transpires in the pool is more than physical intimacy and that much-needed release. Whatever it is for him, it is as genuine for her too. She may not ever speak the thought into the world, keeping it to herself, but he will feel it in her touch, her lips, the way she whispers his name... And she receives it from him in a way that is easier for her heart to process. All of it.
She just hopes that he does too.
So when she finds herself spent and relaxed, resting against his side, her head on his shoulder and idly bringing her hand up to let the water trickle over his chest, she lifts her gaze up to his when he finally speaks, that smile he flashes her doing all sorts of annoying things to her heart. She takes it, and lifts it to her lips.]
... I thought you'd never ask. About time we had some.