escordvi | closed ⚡🪶 and forevermore, i'll be chasing the storm we had.

[There's a press of her lips together and then more silence as she shifts on the bed, moving closer to where he's crouched at the edge of it. She moves so that she's sitting in front of him, legs coming down to rest on either side of his body.]

Clearly.

[She has no empty platitudes to offer him. No words of wisdom or to console him... but what she does have are her actions, and while it isn't much, she fumbles for his hands and takes them loosely in hers.]

Then let us get you cleaned up. And then maybe get you out of this dingy, wretched little place.

[He looks at her a little surprised, but even if she might feel inadequate, it's true that even these little gestures, her just trying mean quite a bit. Makes him feel a strange but welcoming ripple of warmth when she tries to take his hands.

It's sweet, really. And there will be a quiet little smile as he looks at her, his hands helping hers as he threads his fingers between hers and gives her a gentle, understanding squeeze.]

It's not that dingy or wretched.

[A light quip as he starts to stand, grimacing a bit. Oof, it's these times when he can start to feel his age a bit...]

[If he keeps looking at her like that, then she truly will flee... That smile is far too gentle, far too sweet that she feels it claw its way right into her heart.

But she's just going to remain on the bed where she is until he pulls her up by her hands.]

It is dingy and wretched. Especially when you have been holed up in here for days.

Just needs a bit of airing out, that's all.

[And a stretch—oh that was definitely a crack of his bones before he starts making his way out the bedroom, Benedikta in tow.]

You need a bit of airing out, I think.

[And as she stands up, hands still holding his, she makes a face at the sound of his bones cracking. She'll follow him, allowing herself to be pulled along, and when he steps out into the workshop proper, he'll see that it's been tidied up, too. Papers and books stacked neatly, any dust that might have been left behind wiped and swept away, his ash trays cleaned out with a fresh cigar perched there and waiting to be lit. All in all, it's much cleaner and organized than it was before he went to sleep...]

I'd started to wonder when I didn't get message after message from you about this new island.

[He does pause a bit when he see the workshop cleaned up and organized, staring a bit in wonder before he turns to look back at her.]

....Ah, right, that happened, didn't it.

[He barely noticed. Once Nogard decided to move, it wasn't really a bad time for him to just hole up in his workshop. But while he heard things in the few times he stepped out... He otherwise paid little attention.

Yeah, that would seem strange to anyone who was familiar with him.]

[She's dragging him to the bathroom now, before he can make a point about the way she'd cleaned up the workshop. She'd rather not talk about that part, so off they go. And everything will be tidy in there, too, though she did leave out the straight razor and the shaving cream that she found in the cabinet, as well as a fresh cloth and towel.]

It did.

[She finally answers as she perches herself up on the edge of the sink.]

You've really heard nothing about it?

[Imagine her surprise when she finds out something before he does—]

I heard some of it, but was in a bit of a rush to continue working to pay much more attention.

[Again just going to glance around...]

Something about some kind of migration and retreat? Mountain lodge?

[She arches a brow—rush to continue work, huh?—as she gives his hand a firm tug, pulling him right to her so that she can trap him with her legs around his, ankles locking behind his knees so he can't move away.]

A volcano... and mountain both.

[And she dislikes very much where Nogard decided to rest. It's only a matter of time before that heat starts to sink into this place.

There's a very pointed pause while she spreads a little bit of shaving cream into her palm before she adds...]

Hot springs.

[Whoa—

All right, he hadn't expected her to not only pull him but also lock him in place with her legs like this, and he can't help but arch a brow given the... Positioning. But he won't push back—]

Volcano, you say? Thought it was strangely warm.

[—instead just bracing his hands against the counter on either side of her as be leans in closer.]

And hot springs, too?

[He really shouldn't be so shocked about this anymore. This is how it's been, and this is how it's going to be, with Benedikta taking charge of his "taking care of himself". Meanwhile, she's going to be nonchalant, even as he leans in closer to her, rubbing her palms together before spreading a light layer of cream over his cheeks and down to his chin, massaging it in.]

Yes. Hot springs.

[Her brow arches, but she never once looks him straight in his eyes.]

Was half expecting you to send my device into a fuss with it.

[There might be some light disappointment that he didn't...]

[...Oh?

While finding her touch both oddly stimulating and soothing in some sense, he can't help quirk his lip a bit.]

Expecting... Or hoping for an invitation?

Edited 2024-01-06 06:25 (UTC)

[There's a light clap of her hand against his cheek as she smothers more of the cream on it, but that was definitely on purpose, a silent warning to him.]

Neither. Simply an ask of whether or not I had plans on going.

[So, an invitation.

But she doesn't say it, and pretends to ignore it as she leans back to observe her work. Good enough, she thinks, and so she takes out the razor, running it along its leather sheath first before bringing it up to his face.]

In case you are wondering, I don't.

[She makes her first stroke, light and careful and practiced from their days in Waloed...]

[The eye on that side closes in response to the light slap, but it also just made that smile deepen a little before it drops down to something more casual and relaxed.]

Really?

[And now she has that razor in her hand, he knows he should probably careful on what he says, let alone not talk much otherwise he really will get a cut.

But—]

And if did want to try them out with you?

[Their faces are so close now that he'll feel her breath on him, catch the whiff of the cigar that she had stolen for herself, and the taste of rum that she had. Her eyes are so focused on the razor as she makes another clean, close stroke, pausing to wash it off under the faucet...]

Then you'd have to ask.

[... before bringing her eyes up to him.

She knows that he isn't in the best of moods, but there is something to be said about that more relaxed, easy smile he has, even through all of that shaving cream that covers it. It puts her at ease as well, no longer afraid that he'll snap at her or tell her to leave...]

[A low hum as his eyes longer first on hers then drift down to her lips before back up again. He waits until she's finished another stroke, not worried or concerned at all at how she might do it before speaks again.]

Come with me.

[None of his usual teasing or lead ins to try and persuade her. Just a direct request to leave little room to question.]

[Something constricts in her throat at that directness. She half expected that she would have to fight him for it or wait until his mood improved a bit before he finally asked, but it wasn't even a question. More like... a demand. The sort that she doesn't mind... the sort that only makes her heart race a little bit faster.

She brings the razor back up, deliberately going right over his lips so that he has no room to talk as she carves away some more of that beard, rinses, and continues without saying a word. But even as she brings the blade so close to his skin, her gaze moves up to meet his, her steady hands doing all the work in guiding it over the sculpted curves of his face.

Only when she finishes another brush does she finally answer, bringing herself in close, close, closer, so that she can watch where the blade moves over his chin, her own tilting upwards. From here, not only can he feel her warmth, but see the spark that ignites in her eyes in the brief moment they connect again.]

... I will think about it.

[He watches her closely, carefully. He can already tell it isn't an instant rejection, that she'll accept in one way or another. Even if she would have the right not to, what with how he treated her earlier. But his mood has improved, both thanks to the real sleep he got and because of her company. Because of her attempts to do something he knows she's not used to.

But there is something of a clinginess he may still be feeling even if he doesn't want to or want to fully admit it. Especially when her shaving his beard is reminding him once again of long bygone days, days he had started to believe he would never get back. And they never will get back those days exactly, but...

As he continues to watch her, he finds this isn't so bad, either. And that this may fit them more as they are now.]

Don't think for too long.

[A low voice with a slight wry grin, eyes shining a little more compared to the tired, duller outlook he had before. There are still traces of it there, but it's lessening.]

[She sees those traces, but she doesn't point them out. Really, the last thing that she needs is him spilling his heart out to her, telling her all of his feelings, and sharing his emotions and thoughts... all things that she would not know what to do with. If her presence is enough to at least put him at some ease, then that is all she will do.]

Then don't leave me waiting next time.

[Both a tease and a very real warning, small as it is, as she brings the cleaned razor back over his beard again, the light scrape of it filling the void in that pause.

Not because she wouldn't agree, but the way she's grown antsy and worried during that wait had made her uncomfortable. Scared that the message about Midadol's departure would be the last one she ever received from him, and so far, it is. She hated that feeling... hates it.

Hates that she still cares too damn much about him.]

... We can go after this.

[Gently, she grasps his chin, and for a moment, her eyes flick down to his lips, and despite all of the shaving cream there, she is half tempted to press her own to them... to seal that silent deal that they've just made...

...

But she turns his head to face his side so that she can work on his jawline and cheek with a slight quirk to her lip.]

I cannot let you walk around looking like you did.

Edited 2024-01-06 08:07 (UTC)

[He catches her tone and meaning, and there's just a rough sound of acknowledgement that's a mix of a hum and a laugh, mostly because he can't really say anything at the moment. But his eyes will be sincere with a hint of remorse.

Had he really made her worried to such an extent? No, maybe not worried... Anxious? He couldn't fathom what exactly she thought, but he can at least get the sense she was bothered enough, especially since it made her come all the way here.

And he will certainly catch the way her eyes lingered on his lips, his own falling on hers. He, too, was tempted, even more when there is that mutual attraction that always manages to build between them even when their moods are not aligned. A temptation that has grown between them that it's more natural than not at this point.

But she's pushed him away, and while he somewhat expected it, it's still a bit disappointing. Well, he'll live. It's how things usually go between them, anyway.]

Surprised you're not going to throw me into the bath first.

[She might have... were it not for the cream still smeared over his lips. He looks ridiculous with it, like a marshmallow had just sneezed all over him, but... seeing him like this does remind her of those days. The mornings, rather, when she would sit perched on the bathroom counter just like this and use her steady hands to clean his beard. She always did love it, even when it did get a little long because it meant that she could spend this quiet time with him... just the two of them, close and together.

It's always been an exercise of trust besides, and honestly, she's quite surprised that he is letting her at all. After all the biting words and blows exchanged between them, he would still trust her with a sharpened blade to his throat...

There's a moment where she lingers, her head canting like she's observing her work rather than simply being unable to pull away, before she exhales and turn on the tap again.]

Would you prefer that I did?

[Her finger tips his chin up so she can get underneath.]

That can still be arranged.

[With his head tilted up, he has to shift his gaze down to watch her before he just closes his eyes and relaxes. Well, as much as one can standing like this in this position. Yet despite the vulnerability, he's otherwise completely unguarded. Perhaps he would have been a little more a few months ago, but not now.]

Would you join me?

[Though whether he should be making such jokes with a smirk with a razor near his neck is a different question—]

[She hums, a laugh resting in the back of her throat.]

First the hot springs and now a bath?

[No, she is walking right into all of it. Deliberately.]

You're feeling bold again, aren't you?

[Slowly but surely, she guides him back to his usual self, just as she guides his chin, tipping it again slightly to the side and running the blade down, down, down... her eyes caught on the chords of his throat as the foam is slowly dragged away from it.]

[A low hum of his own, his body naturally tensing against the blade against his neck. But that's just an instinctive reaction as he otherwise continues to be relaxed, eyes closed. It's almost ticklish how she works the razor, and focuses on it a moment before he answers.]

Hmmm, true. Maybe save it for the hot springs and I just take a quick shower here to freshen up first.

Doesn't mean I wouldn't mind the company, no matter how "quick."

[He still manages to make his lascivious jokes and suggestions, though whether he honestly would feel up to anything is a different matter. With her, wouldn't be too difficult to get into it, but... Were he to be more honest, he'd rather something a little more relaxing.

Which can be done better at the hot springs.

Still, there's truth that he still wants her around, her touch and presence really doing wonders to help distract him at least.]

[Her eyes rest on his, something more dubious and hesitant behind that slight quirk of her lip, one corner lifting with a suggestive smile even though she has a feeling he wants otherwise. Still, he never quits with his jokes, does he?]

You can shower on your own.

[An arch of her brow first before she gets back to it, just a few more careful strokes before she's finished.

As much as she'd rather just ignore these tender feelings swirling in the pit of her stomach, find a distraction elsewhere, she knows that he hasn't bounced back fully. There's still a weight to his shoulders and in his eyes that she doesn't think he'll be shaking off anytime soon. And she isn't about to try.]

I will wait outside.

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