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

Aye.

[There's no hesitation in his answer this time, no falter due to whatever other emotions and thoughts that could strike him. And it's reflected in his own gaze that meets her, more of that steadfast and fierce resolution brimming behind those greens before it softens a touch as he continues.]

I told you once, before. That for a long time I worked to find a way for all of us to choose how we die—to be more than what we are, but who we are. [Here there is a slight falter as he stares at her before he glances away.] Including myself.

[Although...the real reason is staring at him right in front of him. The one who made that wish first, her wish to be thought of as human, and spurred him on that seemingly impossible quest. ]

But I was wrong. I should have been focusing more on changing things so we all have a choice on how we lived. And that is why...

[His hand reaches up to brush against her cheek as he looks back up at her.]

I choose this life now, with you. I already lost that chance once... And I can't have it anywhere else.

[Those words are distantly reminiscent, like the ring of a faraway bell, or the lightest tug of a string. Like a foggy memory that she has a hard time clearing, or even reaching for to wipe clean so that she can see what's inside.

So instead, she leans into his touch, breathing out that long-held sigh that she hadn't realized she'd been clinging to.

Whether she can believe those words with all her heart—believe in them and their ability to fight against whatever fate has in store for them, it was just the thing that she needed to hear. It was the last little push from behind to know for certain what it is she needs to do. He may want a way to control the rifts, but she wants to close them for good.

Does she still feel that twinge of guilt about it? Yes. Will it ever go away? It's unlikely... but when has she ever been the selfless one? When has she ever been anything but selfish when it came to him?

And it isn't just about him, either... but for her own survival. But what is there left tethering her to herself in a world where he is no longer in it? Her very own relic of the past, of who she used to be, who she could have been, and who she can be all wrapped into one. Only one of the hundreds of reasons why she cannot seem to let him go.]

You have a funny way of showing it.

[It's muttered quietly under a breath, a quip to all the times he's pushed himself too far, put himself at too much risk, but she doesn't linger on the thought.]

Then promise that you will quit locking yourself away in your workshop for days at a time.

[He had wondered how she would take his answer... And for the first time since this conversation started, a more lighthearted, genuine smile forms, small as it is.]

Even if it really is for a deadline?

[It may be small, but Benedikta can tell the difference from all the others. It's less empty, and slowly creeps up into the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. The kind that she had been looking for all this time, and one that brings about that annoying flutter in her chest.]

I don't care about your deadlines.

[And though she plays into the whole thing, the slightest quirk of her lip on her otherwise soft expression, she means every word.]

If I am to choose a life here with you, I don't want to find you with those circles under your eyes, and that awful beard. Never again.

[Her hand caresses said beard.]

[There's something about her words that send that odd, warm, ticklish feeling through his chest.

If she were to choose a life here with him...

Conditional or not, they are still the closest thing he perhaps has been wanting to hear, and she may see that flicker of emotion in his eyes, the slight tension in his jaw as he unknowingly clenches his teeth before they loosen.]

But if it should happen...

[If he were to falter, if that tough armor of his were to crack, if he were to show her that vulnerable side that he tries to cover up and hide...]

...would you still pull me out of it?

[Be there, push him, yell at him. Love him. Just be that reminder of what he's doing all this for.]

[It was her way of saying that yes, she would choose him. This. Whatever this is... if it even has a name.

Any hint of that smile is all but gone at his question, though it is not replaced with something harder. She should scold him for it because there should be no reason for it to happen again if she can help it, but she is much too tired for that, too. So, her expression—her eyes especially—softens.]

Did we not agree that I was the best one for it?

[That he needed her to be that hand to pull him out just as much as she needed him?

She leans in close, her head tipping in his direction, though it doesn't come to rest against his. Yet.]

But should you stumble again... [She pauses.] ... You may borrow my wings.

[He just wanted to hear it. Some kind of reassurance that she wouldn't just leave him. Regret her choice.

So again there is a little more of a genuine smile, his eyes so soft before there is just a subtle shift as he regards her.]

...You, too.

[Once more brushes her cheek with the crook of his finger.]

Should you ever need it, you can always fly and rest your wings with me.

[The distance between them closes a little more, until their just a hairbreadth's away.]

I won't let you fall... I won't let you go.

[Just like him, she may never reveal everything that bothers or troubles her. She may try to do things on her own, just like he still will. That's just their nature. However, just as he will also try to lean on her more, he wants her to lean on him. Wants her to feel safer and come to him when she needs it.

Share those burdens.

And perhaps, the more often they do, the more likely they will.]

[Not again, she wants to say against his lips, so close now that she can taste the wine and the peach on his breath. So close that she just wants to breach the rest of that distance and put an end to all of this for good. To stop those words of his before he can crush her with them...

But it's with just a brush of her lips to his, a silent show of acknowledgement, an affirmation that she hears him and understands him, and that maybe, some small part of her actually believes that he won't let her go this time. That there really is a place for her to rest her wings upon his back. A small part, but it's more than what it had been when all of this started. Even more than when she had watched over him as he slept, that very real, deep fear making a home in her. Perhaps even Garuda stirring to remind her...

But she has since tried to push them all aside in favour of his voice and while they will never go away for her, at least he has a place among them, louder and clearer than all the rest in moments like this one.

A quiet moment that she allows to settle between them that lasts several heartbeats, to let his words sink in before she sighs.]

... I don't like that version of you that I saw this morning.

[His thoughts are similar to hers. It's hard not to, when they are so close and their hearts so strained, so worn out, that want they want that relief and release that can only be granted by each other. But at her words, his first instinct is to apologize again...

...]

What version do you like?

[Ah.

She should have seen that question coming, but it makes her flush all the same. She has thought about this plenty since she found him when she realized that what she saw in him was not a version of him that she liked, and why that was. She didn't like that looming shadow cast over his eyes, that faraway look that made her think of their final days together.

It's time for her to slip her lips away so that she can lean in, just far enough that he can no longer see her.]

... This one.

[That probably answers nothing.]

[NOPE. But there is a faint smile as he just follows and leans closer to her, the water quietly rippling from their movements.]

Hmmm? Not sure what you mean.

Yes, you do.

[Don't play coy with her.

But she lets him chase her all the same because as much as this part of him makes her bristle, it's the part of him that she's discovered she prefers over what she saw today.]

This arrogant old fool that gets under my skin.

From the way you phrase it, that sounds like you like it when I annoy you.

[A low chuckle is his lips brush against her skin, but not quite at her lips.]

[She snaps back immediately to look at him, her expression hardening for a fraction of second.]

That's not it.

[Don't get the wrong idea here.

But it all melts away as fast as it had come.]

You are just not yourself when you are like that.

[And she almost tells him what it reminds her of. Almost. But she manages to bite her tongue.]

[There's just a hint of one of his usual smirks, a quick flash that is only not as full as it normally is due to the subdued mood that still hangs over them.]

Is there anything else? About "myself" that you like.

[She's going to shove him underwater if he keeps up this line of questioning or so help her—]

No.

[Is the first answer that she gives quietly, but the way that her hand slides over his shoulder and her lips over his jaw will no doubt tell him that isn't the case.]

But I prefer that stupid grin of yours over you looking miserable.

Any reason why?

[Yes he's pushing it, but he kind of needs this. Not her actual answers, just... Something dumb and sillier. And be might be a little curious as to what she thinks, too.]

[Oh, he is definitely pushing it... but this is one of the rare times that she will oblige.]

... It looks better on you.

[Or try to oblige. She's not very good at offering compliments, but she is being genuine as her fingers move from his shoulder to his face, where she pokes at the corner of his lips, pushing and lifting them slightly as if to force a wider smile there.

Happiness looks better on him. It always has.]

Edited 2024-01-23 17:03 (UTC)

[There's a slight look of surprise when she pulls at his mouth before he laughs, the wider smile she wanted forming more freely as more of those shadows disappear along with it, as if chased away.

This woman...

For all her thorns and denials, she can still be quite cute. Adorable. Truly, how could he not love her when she does unexpected things like this? Especially when he knows he'll be the only one to see it.

And yet, even as his eyes shine more as he looks at her, they also soften a little. Almost a little sad.]

...You, too, you know.

[Now it's his turn to raise his hands and poke the corners of her mouth to gently pull them into a smaller smile.]

Looks better on you.

[She gives her head a little shake—not enough to shove his hands away, but enough that it will hide that little quirk of her lips that shows that whatever he's doing is working, or that furrow of her brow to show that it's not. In truth, there's that violent flutter in her chest again, that warm buzz that seems to dig its way deep into her as if he'd just struck her with his levin.

Warm enough that her cheeks flush even more, but there's a sadness and emptiness in her eyes that reflects some of his.]

... Then I will need more reasons to.

[It's not as if she had many reasons to do so for a long, long time, she realizes.]

I'll figure it out.

[And while she may have tried to shake him off, he'll be stubborn, his hand now cupping her cheek to tilt her back just a little towards him.]

All the reasons you could ever want...

[The most stubborn, arrogant, frustrating man that she has ever known, she can hardly stand it sometimes. No, she can't stand it at all, but maybe that's why she is so drawn to him—this side of him. That he makes her feel anything at all, whether it be anger or happiness or sadness, or even her own pride, if only he knew how what that meant to her. How much that affected her...

If only she knew how much...

So when he lifts her face to look at him again, he'll see all of those things in there.]

... That sounds like another promise.

Maybe it is.

[His gaze remains soft as he brushes his thumb over her cheek.]

But it's no less true. I can't be the only one receiving such a gift.

[Her eyes close, and she leans further into his touch, head tipping so that she can brush her lips over the inside of his hand, leaving a trail of heat behind.]

You aren't the only one.

[She isn't sure why she feels so compelled to say so... Perhaps she can blame it all on the fact that he had been so pensive earlier, the stark difference from what she's become so accustomed to the reason for her heart wanting to spill itself for him in this quiet moment before it's over and they return to their usual selves.

Wanting to see to it that he no longer bears that weight alone on his shoulders, and that it is because of her alone that he doesn't.

To be wanted and needed again.]

You have given me far too many gifts. I don't know what to do with them all...

[And she doesn't mean the jewelry, the box, the mirror that he snuck into her bag, or the rest of the material things he has given her.]

Edited 2024-01-23 21:55 (UTC)

[He just smiles a little as that warmth from her lips and words tickle his palm and heart.]

Just enjoy it.

[He knows she doesn't mean just those material gifts, but the meaning of his words is the same.]

If you want to do something in return then I won't stop you... But everything I do is willing with no expectations of such returns.

[Once more the distance between them closes, his voice deepening as there is a slight smirk.]

I already get to enjoy your reactions.

[Her confusion, her embarrassment, her indignation, her surprise, her tears—and the occasional smile that slips through.

More than that, he just wants her to receive the things he had always wanted to give her but couldn't. Let her have that love that she had so desperately wanted but could never find. To undo the wrongs their world inflicted upon her... Where it, and he, had failed her before.

But if he told her that she would surely break, so he just keeps it all tucked in his heart and lets her hear and feel the subtle hints through his actions.]

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