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

[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.

[A quiet hum of a laugh at her response, as if expected, and he waits for her to finish before he finally leans back. But before doing his usual check, he eyes her for a moment, head canted slightly as his hand remain where they are, his body caging her to the sink still.]

You won't run on me, will you?

[Any other day, it would be just a normal tease. Now, it is that, but...maybe a genuine question of what he should expect once he's out.]

[She stares at him, a silence settling in over them, the only sound the echo of the water dripping slowly from the tap. She can hear it in his question, that heaviness, and she is tempted to turn on the faucet just so that she can break this self-imposed tension that pulls at the air.

But she doesn't.

Instead, she sets the razor down on the sink beside her, picks up the towel, and starts to dab it gently on his cheek, never once breaking eye contact with him. If he stares long and deep enough, he might spot the genuine promise within them.]

As I said, don't keep me waiting for long...

[He holds her gaze, and while he can never be too sure when it comes to her...

...He choose to believe what he believes is a genuine sentiment to stay hidden in her otherwise vague words.

So there's the slightest quirk of his lips before he slowly leans back, hand rising to run over his now neatly shaven chin. He'll put on some aftershave to soften the hairs further, but it feels just like it always has, her technique and skill just as good as it was in the past.

As his fingertips brush over the space above his upper lip, his eyes once more meet hers before he's suddenly leaning in—]

I'll try not to.

[—kissing the corner of her mouth with a quiet—]

...Thanks.

[—and then pulling back, his other hand slowly slipping off the edge of the counter as he steps away so she can leave.

His words were to her helping him shave, but...he also means for just being here at all. For checking on him, for persisting, forcing him to get up. So what he's really saying is he'll try not to keep her waiting for him to bounce back for too long. It'll take some time still, the physical and mental toll he put himself through these past few days too much to recover in just a few hours. But he'll get there.]

[The kiss surprises her, her own lips puckering and her eyes widening in response to it, and when he pulls back, she almost chases after him, wanting a proper kiss to make up for the lack of them before. She hadn't thought she wanted any in the first place... until he went and gave her one.

She slips off the counter as soon as he backs away, but rather than leave immediately, she grabs hold of the hand touching his face and very lazily threads her fingers through his, a silent gesture to know that she understood and accepts his thanks.

Gratitude that she isn't sure she wants.]

Mm. Stop that.

[And she'll take what she thinks is rightfully hers, which is a kiss to the corner of his mouth.]

I'll be outside.

[The quiet smile at her hand turns into a laugh when she takes that kiss. And for a moment, it does look as he might pull her back, the grip on her hand tightening. Pull her back and not let her leave at all.

Instead, he compromises and tugs her back just enough so he can kiss her properly on the lips. It's soft, light...maybe even a little tentative, but a kiss all the same.]

[A kiss is a kiss, and it had been what she wanted, strangely enough. She wouldn't seek it on her own, forcing him instead to offer it when he felt he wanted to, so she just takes that single step back and yields, returning it in kind, however soft and brief it is.

And she would seek more, as they are wont to often do, but he really does need to get cleaned up if he wants to get back to any semblance of normalcy. The beard was just the first step.

So, with just a glance and not a word spoken when she pulls back, she slides her hand free from his and leaves him in the bathroom, pulling the door half shut on her way out.

When he comes to join her, he'll find her seated in his chair at his desk, her feet kicked up upon it, a leather-bound journal of his "doodles", as she likes to call them, open on her lap, and a lit cigar held between her lips.]

Edited 2024-01-07 06:29 (UTC)

[He's also tempted to chase, but he knows if either of them do they will never get out of this bathroom. So he just lets her slip away, watching her even after she leaves and closes the door before he finally heaves a sigh and closes it more fully so that he can undress and shower.

And while he won't take long as promised, in the time he is in there he takes some time to reflect on his past actions, of how he really had been letting all this get the better of him without him fully realizing it. Always telling himself that he'd "pick up" tomorrow, and then several tomorrows passed. Really, if Benedikta hadn't come by, he would still be working and barely living properly. He would have recovered on his own eventually, but it was better that she had.

When he finally steps out of the shower and finished with his own facial and hair care, he'll look at her sitting at his desk and watch her for a moment before speaking up.]

Made yourself at home, have you?

[And speaking of "being at home"—since Cid didn't have a change of clothes, he's just standing there at the entranceway with the towel around his waist.]

I did.

[The words come out on a slow drawl as she holds the cigar between her teeth, her feet kicking gently on the desk. The journal slams shut with a gentle thump, and while she is far too comfortable to move she does tilt her head just far enough that she can glance at him...

...

But upon seeing him standing there in nothing but a towel... Well, she's just going to turn more fully, her eyes shamelessly raking over his body as she bites down on the cigar and takes an inhale. Honestly, did he really need the towel?]

Is that a problem?

[No, he doesn't, but he is being courteous.

And he knows hiding something is more tempting than if it's on full display, the way her gaze falls on him not going by unnoticed.]

Not at all. So long as you don't move things around too much.

[He'll slowly straighten, one end of the towel slipping down his hip just a bit as he turns to head to the bedroom to change.]

[Don't think she doesn't notice the way the towel slips, revealing that peek of the carved muscles underneath, and she arches a brow, letting her eyes linger before they follow him out of the room.]

It was already disorganized.

[He'll hear the leather book thump on the desk as she gives it a toss, her shuffling, and then her footsteps coming into the bedroom after him, and while she won't come all the way in, she will treat herself to a show from the door where she leans, cigar now between her fingers, the scent of his soap mixing with it so very appetizing.]

A simple thank you would suffice.

I'd call it a chaotic order.

[A wry comment in return, though she is right. She knows he usually keeps thing more organized than that, and even if he can sometimes get overwhelming in his work with papers everywhere, there was usually still some kind of order to it. Very rare has it ever gotten so haphazard and messy as it was.

Hearing and not surprised she followed him, she will arrive just in time to see that towel fall, his back to her as he rummages through the small dresser next to the bed to pull out some fresh clothes.]

And I thought I already gave you one.

[Granted, that was mostly for the shaving but he did mean it for everything else as well.]

I thought that was just for the razor work.

[No, she knows what it really meant. She's just being her usual greedy, difficult self, and will continue to be as she wanders into the room now that he's rid himself of the towel, and she'll press up behind him as he picks out his clothes, her hand coming around with the cigar to offer it to his lips.]

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