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

The spine?

[...Hm. Mental note for potential places to search for her in the future.]

What was the view like from up there?

[Is he deliberately not asking her specific questions that he knows are on her mind? Yes. But mostly because he's trying to coax her to tell her on her own terms and in her own time.

The fact that she came to him within the same night... It's already speaking volumes of how far they've come when he would have needed to expect several days.]

[She can sense what he's doing just as easily, and she does appreciate that he's going along with it. She's not quite ready to broach the subject yet. She's still getting used to the fact that she's grounded here. That she took him up on his word...]

The best view of Nogard there is.

[Her fingers run along the edges of the window, her eyes watching his reflection in the glass.]

... I could show you another time.

Hmm...

[A wry grin.]

Another outing perhaps?

[She sees that grin in his reflection, and any normal day, she would want to smack that thing right off his face, but tonight...

Tonight, she appreciates it.

Tonight, it can stay.]

I'd hardly call it one. Just a trip up to the spine so you can see for yourself.

[But she does think of those crepes that they talked about.]

As long as you are not afraid of heights, that is.

Think I've been higher than that without issue.

[Thanks to her—but also thanks to his Eikon, for better or worse.

But then he looks at her, and while this is nice... Through that same reflection he can see the hard, weariness, the sag in her shoulders, and he'll close the distance a little, leaning up besides her with his hand just lightly touching hers.]

...But that will be for another time. For now, how about you wash up...and you can stay with me tonight.

[Her fingers twitch again at his touch, almost like they are reaching out for his, but they never quite close that distance completely. She does, however, shift around to face him, his suggestion making her heart sink a little with more guilt. Is this a feeling she's going to need to start getting used to? Because she's certainly felt it plenty in one night.

Eyes move up to meet his, a silent plea within them.]

You're sure?

[She really could use a wash... a hot shower to get the cold sea salt off her skin, and maybe with it, she can shed these feelings, too. And she had made no plans... hell, she hadn't really thought about much on her way here. All she knew was that this was where she wanted to be. Everything else that came before or after that didn't matter.]

[When her eyes finally meets his, that distance between them will swiftly close as his lips brush over hers for a very soft, gentle, little kiss.]

Aye.

[The words are soft as his eyes remain on hers.]

Stay with me.

[Unlike other times, there's no suggestive heat in his voice. Instead the quiet passion that is carried is gentler and more for soothing; coaxing her. All he wants is for her to be with him and not be alone.]

[He need not do anything to coax her to stay. She had already made up her mind the moment she had flown off from his boat, his absence immediately felt when her hand had grown cold and that feeling only grew and grew until she couldn't bear it anymore and she flew to his window. Is she perhaps falling onto his shoulders a little too much? Using him as a crutch when she would otherwise stumble too much?

Maybe, but... what if she wants to? What if she not only needs him, but wants him to be here?

...

She closes her eyes against his lips, a bit more of that tension releasing from her shoulders, and while her heart still churns with conflict, his plea stems that feeling just long enough for her to steal another searching kiss from him.]

I want to...

[But she's still not so sure that she deserves this after what happened. She pulls back anyway, a small, guilty laugh escaping her.]

I need a shower.

[A soft grin as he brushes his thumb over hers before pulling back.]

Go ahead. You can borrow one of my shirts.

[Which he knows she enjoys stealing—]

Need anything else? Coffee, tea...

[With a shake of her head, she slowly runs her hands over her chest, stopping when she reaches the fresh bandages on his side. She stares at the wound for a moment, her fingers trembling again, that anger bubbling...]

No. Just... [And with a slow, steadying breath, her voice grows so quiet she wonders if she's even said it aloud at all.] ...you.

Edited 2024-01-27 17:37 (UTC)

[...Ah.

His hand goes up to hers and gently squeezes it.]

All right.

[She can't bring herself to meet his eyes again, but she does offer his hand a squeeze in return, a gesture of acknowledgement, which is still far more than she thinks she can manage right now.]

Then I... will be back.

[Her fingers slide out of his as she forces her feet to carry her away from him towards the bathroom, not sparing a glance back as that tension settles right back into her shoulders again. She won't be long in there, but it will take a few moments for the water to actually start. She can't help but glance around—this is the first time that she is here, and her quiet huff of amusement at all its simplicity is drowned out by the shower.

Compared to her own bathroom, it's...

So very Cidolfus.

A steaming hot shower is exactly the thing that she needed to get that salt and water that clung stubbornly to her out of her skin. She comes out with a towel around herself, her hair a wet mess, and unlike the floral scent of her own soap, she's surrounded by his—an oddly comforting feeling.]

... Your shirts?

[Cid had moved to his desk, taking the opportunity to hide the thing she doesn't need to see, check his messages, and was smoking a little when she comes out.

For a moment his mind goes blank as he stares at her. It's not the first time he's seen her come out of the bath with just a towel—or less—but there is a strange difference when it's from his own...and with her looking as vulnerable as she does. So it takes him a second, the cigar starting to tilt in his fingertips before he comes to his senses and clears his throat, quickly catching and then setting down that cigar.]

—Shirt, right.

[And then up he goes to his dresser to pull one out and hand it to her.]

Need anything else?

[He's certain he knows the answer, but might as well offer.]

[She catches him staring, and she's not sure why she feels so embarrassed about it. It's not as if this is the first time he's seen her in a towel, or nothing at all, after a bath, but it isn't about that. It's the way that he's looking at her as if it is...

Her face red, she takes the shirt from him and moves to his bed, sliding to towel from herself with her back to him.]

... No, Cidolfus.

[It's quiet, but a bit exasperated. After she slips the shirt on, the cotton hanging loosely from her body, she walks over to his desk, perches herself at the edge, and takes the cigar to press to her lips. Not once does she meet his gaze.]

I already told you.

—Right.

[He, too, had for some reason kept his gaze averted.

What the hell, there's no need for him to feel so strange about this, but... The mood and atmosphere is indeed very strange. Partly due to what happened on his boat, and now the awkwardness that follows... But what is it about her now that makes the "usual" not so right now?

He shakes off the thoughts and turns to face her, eyes only flitting to where he shoved a certain piece of paper away before looking her over. Not wanting to create any unwanted distance, he moves to lean against his chair.]

...Then what can I do for you?

[Perhaps it's that she no longer feels like she is in her own skin. Yes, she is marked with her tattoo, every scar, every bit of aether that tingles beneath it, and Garuda resting within, but she feels... not herself. Different. They feel different.

Even more so when it's not him who closes that distance fully, with her sitting at one end of his desk and him halfway there at his chair, and she looks at him through the corner of her eyes and her hair that shields them. She brings the cigar to her lips again, buying herself some time to come up with an answer while she takes a long drag.

What can he do for her?

She doesn't exactly know. She doesn't have an answer for that besides... this.

Only without this rift that's grown between them somehow.

...

Her other hand stretches out towards him...]

[Seeing her hand, his expression softens and he takes into his. But instead of moving closer...]

Come over here. Bed's more comfortable.

[He tugs her to him instead, as if trying to pull her away from that perch.]

[She follows, that tug being the only thing that she needs to go to him. The smoke billows past her lips, and she dabs out the cigar on his desk before going the rest of the way.

That she didn't even have to ask for him to know what it is she wanted... Her heart wrenches and twists, wishing that she could be better for him. Wishing that she could be the person that he thinks he sees her as, and not who she really is.

Another foreign feeling that she tries to ignore as she takes those steps to the bed and settles down upon it, dragging him with her until they both rest their heads on his pillows.

And the first thing that comes out of her:]

... You need a bigger bed.

[As he deliberately places himself so he can roll onto his uninjured side to face her and drapes an arm around her waist as he's so naturally come to do again, he snorts.

Really, that's the first thing she always says—]

Not like yours is any bigger.

Edited 2024-01-27 20:09 (UTC)

[It's the first thing she always says, and it doesn't make it any less true. Ever.

But it was more or less an attempt to set things right again. To get them back to some semblance of normalcy after everything has felt so unnatural, but she's not sure it worked. Maybe a little, as her lip quirks, but she still feels like she's wearing someone else's skin.]

I make do.

[Her hand glides along his side, stopping once again when her fingertips reach the soft cotton of his bandages, and her breath suddenly catches.]

... Does it hurt still?

[He can see her struggling, but as always he is patient and let's her work through it. Gives her the time and space she needs until she needs the push.]

Not really. Bit sore, but it'll heal.

[Maybe he should have gone to a clinic upon returning, but he didn't really feel like it. Rather, perhaps he didn't want anyone else removing the bandages she had placed.]

[Her jaw clenches and unclenches, fingers resting delicately on the bandage with what can barely be called a touch.]

... I should have stopped it.

[Should have seen it coming and got to her before she could get to him.]

[A slight frown as his hand strokes her back.]

How were you to know? She must have been well hidden before she ran out.

I don't know, Cidolfus...

[Her voice strains when she feels his hand on her back, the gesture too much and not enough all at the same time.]

I spotted her when she ran out, but I thought nothing of it.

[And now he's hurt, her hand pressing lightly over the edges of the bandage, careful not to press too hard that it will hurt him.]

[A small sigh as his head naturally tilts towards hers.]

Injuries happen even to the best of warriors. If not her, it could have one of the guards, you can never predict what will happen.

But you don't have to feel responsible for it.

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