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

[Ugh, that voice of his always does find its way into her, making her shudder against him, but the way it fills her head doesn't mask the sound of the next impatient grumble of her stomach. Now that she is aware of it, it makes itself very, very known.

So not sexy at all.

And she'll continue to remain where she is, her arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders so that he can't sneak a peek at her. Silence follows...

...

Before she very quietly grumbles.]

Pancakes.

[A snort as he tries not to laugh, but it still ends in a chuckle.]

Pancakes it is.

[He then drops a kiss on the top of her head, his hands rubbing her back and arms before he starts to try and disentangle himself.]

[Don't laugh! This is just a normal human reaction to waking up in the morning!!! Especially when she hadn't eaten much the night before!

It will take some work for him to remove himself from her, though, her arms and legs not giving up so easily. She will let him go, and as soon as she does, she rolls over onto her back and stretches out properly in the sun's rays, all the while pouting at him still, and at the distance that is now between them.]

... And sausage.

[He'll sit for a moment, stretching his arms and shoulders a bit before he hears her...

And smirks.]

Well if it's sausage you want—

[Her head turns to him, a brow arched high behind the hair that's fallen over her eyes.]

I already had my fill of that. For now.

[She hates him. This is what she meant by how he has changed.]

[Just a beat before—]

Do you want some cream on those pancakes—

[Preparing to run—]

[He'd better run, because Benedikta is picking up his pillow and flinging it at him as hard as she can, aiming right for his head.

Unbelievable.

But—]

Some whipped cream wouldn't hurt.

[It hits him, but he just laughs as he stands, tossing the pillow right back at her before grabbing some clothes.

This is the man you now love, Benedikta. Get used to it.]

Coffee or tea?

[BUT HE'LL BE GOOD NOW...]

[She doesn't think she will ever get used to this side of him. As much as she does think this suits him far better now, he sure does know how to get under her skin. Part of the whole package, she supposes... But does he have to be so good at it?

She shoves the pillow off herself and turns over so that she's on her stomach, lazily plopping back down on the bed, eyeing him through her hair.]

Coffee.

[If only because it reminds her of him. It tastes like him.]

I will share yours.

[As he starts to dress, he watches her stretch out, it is very tempting to just go back to her, which is made evident by how his eyes rake over her, lingering.]

Welcome to share more than that.

[A light smirk before he finally pulls a new shirt over his head and steps out.]

Won't be too long, but make yourself at home.

[She flashes him a playfully scornful look, not missing the way his eyes move over her form, her own finding the very fine view in front of her quite tempting as well. She almost reaches out to pull them back to her in bed, but he escapes her before she can even think to. For the best, probably, considering that she can feel another growl coming from her stomach.

She kicks her feet up to tease him before he leaves, and only once he's gone from the bedroom does she relax again, her head falling to the pillow and staring at the door where he had once been.

Unbelievable that she has found herself in his bed once again, lounging around just like she used to on those cloudier mornings in Waloed. And as much as she prefers those sorts of mornings, listening to the rain and wind clash against the windows, the coolness in the air, there's something different about this morning... lazily tangled up in his sheets that smell so very much like him, the late morning sun beating down over her, with him in the next room making pancakes of all things. Coffee for them to share.

What the fuck is that all about?

It's so very... idyllic. They have had a few shared moments that she thought of this way, but this is so much more than what those were. And it is one thing with it being her bed, but this one is his.

If anyone had told her even five months ago that she would be here and wishing that he were still right next to her, she would have spat in their face.

And maybe... this is all just a dream that they will inevitably wake from. Maybe this is all in her head and she will wake up in her own bed, alone. But she'd like to make this last for as long as possible, in that case.

Make this strange, fluttering happiness last for as long as possible. Shut out the rest of the world until it comes closing in on her again, when she is forced to face whatever this is head-on. She can run and run and fly all she likes, but they do always find a way to find her and catch up to her, don't they? And they have certainly caught up to her now. These feelings, this fondness, this love is far bigger than anything that she can escape from or even hope to control.

The only choice she has this morning is to embrace it. Let it wash over her the way that the sun through the window does.

Once she hears him start mixing in the kitchen is when she finally pulls herself up and out of bed, stretching her arms up high over her head as she takes a better look around his room. While the rest is very... plain... it's the desk that would give away that this place was his in all its organized clutter that she is so familiar with.

She finds that shirt that had been discarded not long after she'd put it on last night and slips it into her shoulders, and he'd said to make herself at home, so she will. She searches through his drawers and slides on a pair of his underwear, folding it at the waist to make sure that it fits, before wandering over to explore his desk. Yes, she's going to snoop, and no, she will feel no shame. She used to do this plenty back then, and would admire his sketches, even if she had no idea what they meant.

There are plenty of those again—words and pictures that Benedikta does not understand. Her nose crinkles at most of them, she shakes her head at others, scoffing fondly at him for being such a tinkerer. He really is too smart for his own good, she thinks. But as long as he isn't burying himself in it...

She picks up one of the journals on the desk and flips through the pages, nothing in there that is worthy of noting, until a piece of paper falls out, fluttering onto the desk face down.]

Hm?

[Setting down the leather-bound book, she turns over the parchment, and what she sees sketched in pencil there makes her heart both stop and leap up into her throat at the same time. It's messy, to be sure, but not difficult to make out in that very Cidolfus Style it's drawn in. She knows that body shape too well, that short bob of hair, the feathery clothes... She knows it well because it's her.

He'd sketched... her?

She tries to inhale, but it hitches, her heart racing a thousand beats a minute as she looks it over.

When? And why?

And gods damn it all, her face is as red and hot as can be now.

The sizzling of the stove startles her out of whatever reverie this had put her under as she stares down at it, the page crinkling a little at the corners between her fingers and their tightening grip. Her gaze snaps to the bedroom door and she wanders there, feet carrying her without a second thought. Carrying her and carrying her until she can lean against the wall and stare at him, watch him as if in complete awe of the man in front of her, with that parchment tucked behind her back...]

Edited 2024-02-02 19:25 (UTC)

[Cid had similar thoughts as her. As he stepped out of the bathroom after freshening up, he feared that if he looked back in his room she would be gone. Either of her own volition, with the window open and curtain fluttering, or that this was all a dream and it never happened at all. So while she's looking away he does chance that glance through the door as he passes, a deep sigh of relief unknowingly escaping him as he sees her there. And it takes every ounce of restraint to not go back in and join her once again, to just be sure one more time.

But if he wants to ensure that this is not a dream, he has to have faith and believe in it. So he continues in into the kitchen and first starts with the coffee maker, prepping it and getting the water to bowl before he pulls out the pans and ingredients for a very full breakfast. Granted, he eats about this much when he does make it for himself, and knowing how much of a bird she is he knows not to make too much.

Not that he couldn't finish whatever is left.

In any case, as he starts, his thoughts drift once more to everything from last night. Of the revelations and truths they uncovered, and the anger that momentarily spills over as he cracks an egg a little too hard, swearing under his breath as he cleans up the spilled yolk and shell pieces before schooling his thoughts and resuming. No, let's not ruin the morning mood with those thoughts. Instead they will wander back to the young woman waiting for him in his room, who he can now hear rustling around.

Wander to how he never would have pictured this three months ago, five months ago, a year ago. Six years ago. Yet here they are, the second time for him cooking breakfast for her. And this time, while it might still be a little awkward for her (and admittedly, feels a little unbelievable for him, too), it's markedly different from before. There's more of an acceptance, that wall finally broke down.

And, he also finds, he doesn't mind this situation. In fact, he might quite like it. Perhaps not now, but in the future...

By the time Benedikta comes out, most everything is cooking or almost finished, the aroma mouth watering, and she will bear witness to Cid's pancake flipping. And of course, he's being a bit silly about it, flipping them into the air and spinning the pan before catching it. One day he will try spinning in place, but not today. Still, there's no mistaking that smug grin when he succeeds, setting the finishing pancake aside before pouring in the batter to work on another. And he will flip that one into the air, too, when it's ready.]

[Either he doesn't notice her standing there, or he is pretending that he doesn't see her as she watches him flip those pancakes. She waits, silently, a brow arching at him when she sees that smug little grin on his face when he flips and catches it. The Lord Commander of Waloed would never done something like this... or maybe he would have, and she'd missed it. Maybe he had an image to uphold in front of her. Or maybe that new outlaw life of his really did change him that much. Had he flipped pancakes in the kitchens of his hideaway, too? Had he smiled, pleased with himself, back then too?

Something hot like envy catches in Benedikta's throat again, but it's brief and shoved aside by the ridiculousness of it all. Him, making pancakes. Flipping them like it's some kind of game. Brewing coffee for her. And this sketch that she clutches in her hand...

She'll continue to wait for this next one to be ready to flip to speak up and make her presence known—]

Don't drop it.

[—right as he prepares himself.]

[He's practically humming as he gets into his little zone, but right as he tosses it up—]

Gyah—!

[He starts, actually flinching in surprise when he looks at Benedikta in pure surprise before belatedly remembering the pancake and—]

—!

....

[SPLAT goes the pancake on his face.]

Well. I caught it.

[A sigh as he reaches up to pull it off.]

Edited 2024-02-03 00:37 (UTC)

—!?

[Benedikta stares at him, wide-eyed. She didn't think she would startle him that much, and as he stares at her, she motions up to the pancake right, but down it goes before she can do much of anything. The sad little splat sound it makes on his face makes her snort out loud...

...

...before she laughs. Really, truly laughs. It's a soft sound, much like all of her others, but it's as genuine as it can be, ringing crystal clear through the kitchen.]

Performance anxiety?

[Tucking the piece of parchment behind her back, she strolls into the room and crosses to him, picking up a towel on the way. And though there's no batter on his face, she'll dab at it anyway.]

No.

[Just a flustered, withering look as the pancake goes to his share. Well it was still a good pancake! He has enough to make one more, so after he lets her dab at his face (even if he probably wouldn't need it, would he really pass on this opportunity? No.), he pours it in.]

Just broke my concentration.

[Aw, is he being a pouty old dog now? It only makes her grin widen, more giggling and snickering under her breath as she swipes her thumb over his lip.]

How long have you been practicing that trick?

[And why is she only finding out about it now?]

[He would enjoy her laughter more if it wasn't at his expense!! Or at least if he had planned it instead of caught like this.

...

No, that's a lie. He still likes the way she laughs right now and while he is still definitely pouting and grumping a bit, there is a bit of a softer look as she continues to give him attention. So perhaps it's not so bad.]

Only since we've been here. Saw someone from one of those food stalls do it and thought to try to make breakfast making a little less boring.

And you weren't going to tell me? You wound me, Cidolfus.

[Fingers plucking idly at the collar of his shirt, she looks over the stove at the new pancake cooking, and at the ones that are sitting and waiting to be eaten.

But she'll take a single step back away from him, giving him a decent berth before she's motioning to the pan.]

Well. Let's see it again properly this time.

I was, but wouldn't hurt to have a bit more practice.

[And he just glances wryly at her as she steps back.]

But all right. First you loosen it with the spatula like this and then...

[A flick of his wrist and lift of his hand upward and FLIP. Up the pancake goes, spinning in the air, and this time he catches it just fine.]

There, see? Nothing to it so long as someone doesn't interrupt.

[Pointed look.]

Edited 2024-02-03 03:36 (UTC)

[She flashes him a dramatically apologetic smile.]

As if I knew what you were doing.

[She knew exactly what he was doing, and had stood there and watched for at least two pancakes worth before she said anything.]

Good to know I can easily break your focus. Wonder what I'll do with that.

[She knew exactly what she was doing and his pointed look and roll of his eyes say as much.]

Oy, you.

[A mock, warning tone as he does a smaller flip of the pancake to make sure it was all done before sliding it over to her little pile of pancakes. Yes, he made two distinct sets because it was easier.]

Just keep in mind what goes around...

[She moves in like a cat again, grabbing hold of his shirt in one hand, and unfolding the paper between her fingers behind her back.]

Oh? I didn't think you were one for payback.

[A laugh as he leans back against her a little as he turns off one eye, sets aside the eggs, and pokes the sausages a little more before they're done.]

I think I've made that quite clear that I am.

[Some could consider his little mission to change the world one of revenge of sorts, but that aside, how many times has he turned things around on her? Countless.]

I would be careful where you are flinging those threats, Cidolfus...

[Heart racing again, there's a little crinkling sound behind her back.]

You never know what sort of arsenal one has in their pocket.

[Slowly, she brings out the hand that's been hiding, and flashes him the sketch of her.]

When did you do this?

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject