escordvi | closed 🪶⚡ all the storms we have faced that tried to break our embrace...

Those were different times then...

[A small sigh as he strokes her hair, thinking back. But then again, he did the same even after he left. Stayed up reading reports, working out plans.]

What I do here is on a much smaller scale.

[She closes her eyes at his hand in her hair, her chest rising and falling with a steadying breath. Already, she's feeling so... unlike herself.]

And?

[Sure, those are different, but—]

What's going to stop you from doing the same?

Starting a larger operation, you mean?

[She lifts her head just far enough to stare at him.]

Taking on too much.

Depends on what you mean by "too much."

[A small sigh.]

Just because I have a lot of interests doesn't mean I'm doing everything at the same time.

You mean projects.

[Her head drops down to his shoulder again, a stiffness finding its way into her shoulders.]

What I mean is...spending all hours on the day working on those interests.

[For fuck's sake, she wants to tear her skin right off.]

[He glances down at her a moment, his hand stilling before resuming the idle stroking of her hair.]

And if I happen to enjoy spending all those hours of the day working?

[She's silent. For a long time.

Her body tenses, that feel of his hand stroking her hair feeling less like a tender motion and more of a ploy. But she doesn't dare lift her head from where her face remains buried in his neck, her conflicted, angry expression hidden well away. Anger not directed at him, but at herself for even feeling so...

So pathetic.]

Enough that you'd forget everything else?

[... Everything else being her?]

[He thinks he's getting an idea of what she's getting at... But he won't give her an easy out, won't answer with the words she can't bring herself to say.]

Might depend on what the "everything else" is.

[Not this time.]

[He might feel her expression tighten against his skin, her lips pressing into a firm, tight line, her brows furrowing with slight ire at his constant pushing. She knows what he's doing and what he does because this isn't the first time that he's done it, and she wishes he wouldn't. That he would just take what he already knows...]

Me, Cidolfus.

[She blurts it out before she can stop herself, and she swears quietly under her breath. If she could burrow further into him and just disappear completely, she would, and hell, she will try as she mutters one more word.]

...Us.

[And there it is. Finally. If it were anyone else he wouldn't push as much, but this is Benedikta, the woman who has had him run in circles and left him wondering what she really wants and feels about them. It's more clear now, of course, but it doesn't hurt to have this kind of confirmation. Would do her more good to be more honest, too.

But as if to reward her (and likely irritate her more), he kisses the top of her head and pull her into a tighter embrace.]

I'm only human, Benna. Is it possible I could lose track of time and not realize noon has turned into midnight? Aye, it is, it's happened. But I am willing to do better about it so that it doesn't, or make up for it if it does.

[That kiss against the top of her head does a lot of both.]

Cidolfus...

[She tries to keep her frustration free from her voice, but it's near impossible.]

That is my point. You say "if it does", and I say that it should not. If you and I are to be... [... Whatever this is, and she just groans under her breath before going on.] Then no more of that.

[This is difficult.]

I understand that, truly. And I'm already trying to tell you that I won't let it happen. But you also have to realize that reality—and I—is not so perfect.

Can you honestly say that you sometimes don't get caught up in your own affairs and momentarily forget about everything else?

[Even if she doesn't look at him, she can feel that pointed look. Because that's happened before.]

[Her entire body tightens at that, legs wrapping around his, arms snaking about his shoulders, and she presses her face as firmly as she can into his neck as she says his name quietly again.]

What affairs? Unless there are projects I'm not aware of.

[She spends most of her time at home these days? Waiting for him to call or message or knock on her door? Can she go and knock on his instead? Can she call or message him instead? Sure, but how many times has she written a message and then wound up deleting it?]

Well I wouldn't know.

[And he's going to call her out on that.]

You never tell me anything.

[Which was fine before—they weren't even together or even on the best of terms, why should she? So he was fine being the one to continue to pester and be the one to make the first move—still is, honestly. Just part of his nature. However, since things are different now, it would be better if he had his own expectations set. Should he expect her to reach out or just accept it will be a rare thing and he'll have to make her for certain occasions?

If he has to make an effort to hold back to give her more time, only seems fair she needs to make an effort to step forward to do the same.]

Edited 2024-02-10 01:52 (UTC)

Well, what do you want to know?

[She didn't think it important? Granted, she isn't so used to having him around as much these days still. Not used to having him seek her out and in return, her wanting to seek him out. They used to share everything with each other, and at some point, that had stopped. Things became classified, and that rift grew until there was no time at all to tell each other anything.

And even in the first few months of being here, she wouldn't have thought to. Not while they were on good terms.

She's going to lift her head briefly to flash him a pointed look.]

And you don't, either.

[Does he remember the Gallows, or...?]

I at least send you a message every so often.

[Still giving a pointed look.]

I get lucky if I get a reply.

Is that what this is about now?

[Her voice rises just a touch, but he'll feel her soften in his arms again only seconds after she realizes that she's letting her frustration get to her. She's trying to be better about it, but it's hard when he is being difficult.]

Using our phones?

[She's getting defensive because she didn't know how to use her phone properly!!!]

It's not about the phones, it's about double standards.

[This is going to be a trying conversation to be sure.]

You want me to not "forget" about us, when I'm the one who has done more to reach out to you even before we reconciled.

Bit unfair to hold a hypothetical day or two against me when I see you every other time.

[Maybe not everyday, and that's fine, they don't need to (nice, but not necessary). But certainly more often in recent weeks with it likely to continue in the future.]

Hypothetical?

[She shoves herself up off him now, bringing the sheets with her to wrap around herself as she sits on the bed beside him. Any softness left in her expression is gone, replaced with a hardness and a barrier that should be all too familiar with him.]

There is nothing hypothetical about the three days last month. Nor is there anything hypothetical about those nights in Waloed, Cidolfus.

[Her voice breaks at the end there, drawing on those memories feeling like she's reaching right into her chest and squeezing her heart herself.]

[And now he's sitting up, his expression mirroring her own.]

Is this what you're basing things on? How I was when I wasn't even in my right mind?

[He's so—!

She spins until her back is facing to him, straight and rigid, the fresher lines of her tattoo stretching across her skin.]

You haven't exactly given me a reason to think otherwise. You continue to push yourself beyond your limits. You go off and take jobs without any backup. You fight people who claim to be gods. You nearly get yourself killed.

[She sighs.]

And then the one time I asked you to stop, begged you to let me take care of you, what happened?

[Running his hand over his face.]

Yes, I snapped and you have every right to be upset about it.

[Still wishing he could strangle his past self.]

But what of you? How many times have I tried to help you only for you to bite my head off. Ever hear me bring it up or hold it against you?

I am trying, Cidolfus.

[Another raise of her voice, another stiffening of her shoulders, and she grits her teeth as she tries to rein her control it back in.

Because it would only prove his point, and the last thing that she needs right now is for him to give her That Look again. The one that tells her the things that, yes, she knows.

That she has bitten his hands more times than she has taken it when he's offered them to her, but six years is a long time for habits and feelings and pride to build only to try and shake them all off.]

I know.

[There's just the sound of a soft exhale before she'll feel his hands around her shoulders and his chest lightly pressing against her back. And should she try to flinch or move away, he'll tighten his hold.]

And I also know why you act the way you do and I try to be understanding about it. How many times do I have to apologize and compromise for you to do the same?

[Despite his own earlier air of frustration, in the end he keeps calm and tries to coax her instead. Try to work things out. While at the same time pointing out those double standards she has set up, unintentionally or not.]

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