[Her hand is so warm in his, and he feels a surge of gratitude, relief, elation. This is real, and she isn't realising all his worst fears and turning him away, despite his expectations. He draws her hand up to his lips and kisses it as a Fódlan gentleman might, but there's no real formality in the gesture. His expression is both playful and indescribably fond as his gaze lifts to meet hers.
Then Claude-- no, he was Khalid to her now, wasn't he? -- lowers her hand again, gives it a squeeze as he steps closer to close the distance between them, studying her face as if to remember this moment, engrave it on his heart.]
Can I...?
[His eyes go from her lips and upward again. He's asking permission this time, to make up for the desperation he had sprung on her in the roots.]
[Predictably, she flusters slightly when his lips press to her knuckles, when he fixes her with that look that is so warm and yet still slightly teasing, as if he will test every little boundary she has and gently scuff his toe over the line. She thought he would have learned better by now... or perhaps she has not been strict enough with him. She let herself cave in to the affection, craving it in a place she is loathe to acknowledge, reminded of how that man had once looked at her when days were brighter- the one she would only see again to die together.
He asks... and she turns her red cheeks away from him, then pulls her hand from his. She withdraws, is she truly about to flee after all this... ?
No.
She sidles a few feet to the left, coming to a stop next to a large stone at the edge of the stream where she waits somewhat expectantly, her blush growing stronger by the second. The rockseems to be roughly the perfect shape that, if he were to stand on it... he might reach or slightly overtake the foot-and-a-few-inches she has on him in height.]
[His gaze follows her as she sidles along, and he lets out a laugh. Oh, so she was going to make fun of his height, was she? (He knows that's not actually her intention, and is actually a good idea, but its funny all the same.) He steps up onto the rock, and manages to reach more or less a similar height to her if he stands up straight.]
Hey, would you look at that. I've magically hit a growth spurt. [There is no rock here. Not at all.
All joking aside, he reaches to touch her jaw, her neck, below the patch covering her ruined eye, his fingers feather-light as his green eyes study her, now that it's easier to see her up close. He still can't believe she's accepted him, that the ruddiness spreading across her complexion is because of him, that she'll no longer give into the temptation to flee. Softly, he can only voice one thought.]
[She should be more annoyed at his laugh. She should resent that he knows how to laugh. But instead, she just grows redder the longer he keeps her waiting, knowing what he has asked her permission for. The line of her mouth thins, like she's trying hard not to let it be seen that she might find anything about what he's said or done to be amusing.
... It's odd, to be face-to-face with a human. She doesn't do him the indignity of looking down at the rock.
Instead, sharp canines nip into her lip when his hand finally closes the distance between, smoothing along the lines of her jaw and down her neck. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, a little shiver tracing down her long spine to end in a twitchy flick of her tail. Of course he would torture her even still, forcing her to notice how vibrant and bright his eyes are, to inhale his scent, to hear him call himself lucky to have her acceptance...]
No...
[She finds herself tipping her face into the touch of his hand despite what she says, her voice a quiet, embarrassed murmur. Lucky?]
[He brushes a thumb along her skin, leaning close, until his breath intermingles with hers, still studying every little reaction he's able to elicit. The way her sharp teeth, too sharp to be human, bite at her lip. When he speaks, it's in a low murmur.]
Unfortunately for you, I guess you're stuck with this fool.
[Because she accepted him, no matter how foolish and irrational he seems, no matter how much he doesn't seem to make sense to her. He closes the distance to kiss her, finally, his lips gentle yet urgent, chasing what they'd left behind at the roots of the Tree.]
[She almost tries to protest. To claim she wasn't stuck with him at all, that at any point if he became too vexing that she would be gone and deny she had ever known him, ever allowed him to touch her and say such things to her, that she had only so much tolerance in her hearts-
But he kisses her, and those words never quite make it to her tongue.
When they had kissed beneath the roots, sudden and desperate and unexpected, she had been a woman who could count such acts on the fingers of her hand, collected in the anonymous, mask-obscured night at the World's Edge when she had been tortured by the contents of spiked drinks and attempting to be rid of something. Since her last heat, laced with Discord that had driven her to seek relief, she had somehow become more shamefully versed in such things... but there are still traces of inexperience on her lips, of shyness in how she slowly tips her head to meet him.
How strange to be standing and not having to bend down to reach. To be able to move her hands upward and find a place in his shirt... to possessively curl her fingers.]
[She hasn't bitten his lip yet this time, at least, but the way her fingers clutch at his shirt is certainly familiar. He's only grateful this time that she isn't crying, that the taste of salty tears is no longer on her skin. He hopes, perhaps, that he can take care of her well enough that she never has to cry like that again, pours that protective feeling into the kiss, a kiss that floods him with warmth, lights a fire deep inside him.
It's not a wildfire that could burn him inside out, as he's sometimes heard passion described. It's a comforting, gentle thing, something he wants to protect and nurture, lest the cold and the dark parts of Kenos try to extinguish it.
He draws back, gently pressing his forehead to hers, his hand moving along the fine line of her neck to her powerful shoulder. He doesn't want to forget this feeling, for as long as he lives.]
[Despite how many times she has called him a fool... Maybe she is one, too. To let herself feel, as he kisses her, that perhaps she really could believe in all the things he offered her. That she could show him her weaknesses and not be judged, that he would look at her the same way no matter what he saw, how pathetic her tears were... That maybe he really would chose her side no matter what, that he would protect her even in those times when she still vehemently denied that she needed protection.
Her fingers tighten in his clothing as they kiss because... because the rational part of her still thinks he will come to his senses, the weak, emotional part of her doesn't want him to go after she's avoided him for weeks and tried fleeing from his offer of affection. Even as the kiss breaks and he presses their foreheads together from his borrowed, equal height...
She doesn't let go. Her breathing is shallow and slightly too quick, her cheeks still red... and one of her back legs is half-up, hoof quivering in the air and occasionally pawing at the earth. It feels like any words she could conjure up would be the wrong ones, her protests seem stupid, now-
So she doesn't say anything at all, waiting for him to break the silence instead as she inhales his scent from up close.]
[He catches the pawing from the corner of his eye, the raised hoof as he glances down, and it reminds him just what an odd sight they must look. How unfamiliar much of her body language still is to him, when she's usually so proud, and angry, and tense. It's odd, but not wrong, and he'd dare any imagined observer to say otherwise.
If anything, the little motion of hers is -- dare he even think the forbidden word -- cute. He smiles and kisses her again, at the corner of her mouth, and decides to keep what he says next casual.]
Not so bad, right?
[Kissing, he means. Nothing bad happened, and her warrior integrity wasn't suddenly shattered on the spot, or whatever else she was presumably thinking to get herself so worked up.]
[He kisses at the corner of her mouth and her reaction is too slow, shifting to try and capture his lips almost instinctively but he is already apart again, murmuring words into the scant space between them, and at least… at least he has the courage to speak. In that… he is braver than her, she has to admit.]
I didn’t say… it would be bad…
[Kissing him.
She’d said that he was an idiot to love her, that she couldn’t trust or believe so easily, that he had just been confused and desperate at the end of the world looking for someone to be together with, that she was a warrior and not a woman… and yes, there had been a part of her that was afraid something wrong would happen if she let a man kiss her without the excuse of seasonal desire or spiked drinks. But she hadn’t thought he would be a bad kisser.
In the depths of her heat when she’d fantasized about calling him for help… he’d been quite good at it, actually. Not that. She could just say that???]
[He squeezes her shoulder gently, eyes shining with amusement.]
Could've fooled me, when you ran away last time.
[He knows the situation was much more complicated than that, and he's just being self-deprecating to be silly. Maybe it will help her feel better and less embarassed about the situation, if nothing else.
Noticing how her mouth had tipped towards his, though, how she still held him close, he wasn't about to leave her hanging. He kisses her again, hungrier than before, hands trailing down her sides to settle at her waist.]
This time she can't stop the desire to protest. She... waits, though, because he offers her the kiss she had been angling for and it is longer, deeper, his hands coming to rest at her "waist" where human-like features began to transition to equine. At the World's Edge, that is when she'd begun to panic in her first attempt at masked intimacy, sure that her partner would somehow sense the differences in their bodies, remembering the way that potential buyers would slide there hands over her like horseflesh, but-
She won't. This time she won't. She's experienced more since then, she's more self-assured-
But when the kiss breaks she can't stop herself from fighting him on his words, even if they were a joke, muttering hot against his lips,]
I didn't run away.
[... Yes, she had. Run... in a direction away from him... But not because of his... Yes, because of his kiss, but more because of everything else- !!!!]
[He concedes it mischievously, breathy against her mouth. He's making light of it, too, to show that he doesn't hold any of it against her. Crushed as he'd been at the time, it was the past. It was done. The bleak ending they could have had didn't happen, and now, things have turned out very differently, like that possibility had just been a bad dream.
He teases at the hem of her clothes, as if he wants to slip his wandering hands under, explore her further. Still, he's wondering if he should take things slow, a little at a time, not knowing how much will be too much too quickly for her. On this, as he imagines will be the case for many things, he'll follow Hayame's lead on her boundaries.]
[She knows… she knows he’s trying to show that he isn’t holding a grudge against her, that he’s trying to show that she needn’t linger on those less pleasant things, but Hayame cannot help but huff and bluster over it, betraying how embarrassing she had found it to cave in to the weak emotions she had in the face of his offer of affection. Knowing that he must remember how she looked crying, that no matter how he seemed to accept it surely a part of him must have found the display unbecoming…
If not, by some miracle, then she would find it unbecoming enough for the both of them.
But his fingers slip along her dun coat and brush against her pelt wrap, the edges of her sleeveless kimono’s hem, and she… she doesn’t know what to do. He is so close that it’s hard, but her one remaining eye tries to focus on his, quietly asking for his intent. She doesn’t shy away, exactly, she doesn’t run… but her tail is swishing somewhat audibly behind her, her sharp canines digging briefly into her bottom lip.]
[His touch falters as he picks up on her unease, the way she bites her lip, and he decides to slow it down for now, his eyes continuing to study her. They have-- not all the time in the world, exactly, but whatever's left that Kenos can afford. With Hayame unaccustomed to intimacy, to his knowledge, it would be better to start gradually. Fingers brush along her dun coat and settle on the small of her back where it joins to equine.]
Hey... Do you still need somewhere to stay? My place is still open to you, you know. I know it's not the most convenient for a jinba, but...
[It beats staying in a stall boxed in with four walls and not much else.]
[Even after her desire-driven attempts at ridding herself of the purity her stable master had guarded for so long, after the shameful things she has done when spiked drinks and Discord have mixed with her season... That was heat. Heat was an excuse. Heat made it easy to just... just blame her body, just do what it wanted...
But without heat... She swallows her fears down. Her withers twitch and shiver beneath the slide of his hands until they find a resting point, and then... she is just standing there blushing.]
I have duties in Alenroux...
[She did, it wasn't even just hesitation, but... Her eye darts to the side for a moment, then back. Her fingers smooth out his clothing, from where she's rumpled it with her clutch.]
... But on the days I have to return to Springstar to report to the general...
[The way she twitches and shivers even under the smallest of touches is enough to drive him to distraction, but he'll leave her be for now. This, just being close to her, is enough, and his smile brightens when she offers her suggestion.]
It's a date, then. [Multiple dates, even. What that entails, he doesn't elaborate, but he leaves the implication there: that he'd like to spend more time with her, beyond just necessities like providing her comfort and shelter. The routine still gives her space too, while she adjusts.]
And on days when you're in Alenroux and I'm around to tend to Naira, I'll come say hi, too. When you're not busy, of course.
[How is she supposed to not twitch or shiver? For all that she has stumbled into under the influence of her heat... This is not that. This is something else entirely that she is still afraid to fully believe in, despite how she has silently expressed her intent to try. Claude (Khalid) is touching her, even though he is not a potential buyer or a groomsman, he is... He is a potential... lover.
Who wants to "date". She has heard about... "dating". (It sounded confusing.)]
... Only when I am not busy.
[She frowns, the expression seemingly almost exaggerated again, like it's less a real look and more an attempt to maintain some sort of dignity in the midst of her fluster.]
I have a reputation...
[She can't have the soldiers thinking she's gone soft, or was distracted by some sort of affair- ?!]
[He laughs.] You do realise everyone else in Alenroux has relationships of their own, right? Partners, friends, families... None of them have their reputation ruined just for something as ordinary as that.
[Or at least he doesn't think so, not that he spends as much time among them as she does day to day.]
I think for those who care about you, they'd be happy for you. To everyone else, they'll figure it's none of their business.
[Gossipy types aside, but those are everywhere. He leans in to catch her lips in a brief kiss again, as if to head off another of her reflexive protests before they can happen. Then he adds, more softly:] But... we can take it slow. Nobody has to know until you're happy with it, and you know how long I can keep a secret.
[He says it like it's such an obvious thing, and even though a part of her does recognize that, for the people of Kenos, perhaps it was true... It has always been difficult for Hayame to let go of the shackles she has worn her entire life. Even now, after over a year apart from the only world she had ever known... She still often acts on instinct based on the rules and morals of her culture. Even though it is a culture she had always secretly raged against, resented for what it did to jinba, to women...
It somehow is not easy to let go of. Perhaps she had simply clung to it in order to keep her sanity in Horos, in Kenos, where things were so overwhelming and wrong...
He was right to think a protest might be coming. It is stalled by his kiss, and she finds herself lingering on his lips just because she doesn't know what words to use. Should she chastise him for reminding her how long he had lied about something as simple as his name? Should she try to claim that he was a man, and of course a man need not ever worry for damage to his reputation like a woman must? She nuzzles against his forehead for a moment, her eye drifting closed, and what finally comes out is an equally quiet, half-reluctant admission that,]
... It is not easy for me.
[She has fiercely protected her reputation and her status as a warrior ever since she'd understood how the world worked. To change it now...
... So. She is grateful. That he seems willing to be a secret until she says otherwise.]
[Khalid closes his eyes too, as she nuzzles against him, and he wonders if he melt like this every time she shows him these small, precious pieces of affection.]
I know. But it'll get easier, I promise.
[He once never would have dreamed of being this close with anyone, and yet here he is. A little at a time he's lowered his guard, bared his soul, until there's none of his secrets left between them. If he can do it, anyone can, even someone who has experienced as many of life's cruelties as Hayame has.]
I'll be with you every step of the way. And eventually... you'll be able to look at life in a whole new way, without fear or shame. --No, [he pauses to reconsider, pulling back just enough to see her face once more,] you're already starting on that journey.
She has already decided that she will believe in a far more outrageous promise from this man, so perhaps it is not much of a trial to believe in this one. But it is still somewhat difficult, and she cannot so easily just nod and agree. Her fangs dig in to the plush skin of her bottom lip again, swallowing her protest... and occupying herself more presently with finishing smoothing out his clothing.
There. Fixed.]
You needn't be so sappy...
[It is embarrassing. She does not know how to respond to it. And if she stays here longer then it will become even more obvious, (and the soldiers might notice that she was gone quite long into the woods with a man), so... She gently pushes, as if to urge him off his rock. Even if she looks slightly conflicted and reluctant to do so.]
[His smile is lopsided, and he acquiesces to the nudge, touching her arm briefly as he steps down from the rock. Suddenly, they've gone from seeing eye-to-eye, to Hayame towering over him once again, as his boots touch the dirt. She does raise a good point, and Naira is a creature of routine as much as any animal, so surely his steed will be wondering where he has gone.
He still simply feels... elated. How can he not be sappy, or want to drag the moment out for all it's worth, given everything?]
All right, you win. [He concedes, despite that.] I'll go.
[He turns, moving to the trees to head back the way he came, and pauses just a moment longer. That bird is still singing, somewhere in the distance.]
...Thanks. For coming to find me.
[Or waiting for him, or just happening to strategically run into him, or however she wanted to frame events. None of this would have happened, if not for her. But she told him not to be sappy, so with that said, he gives her one last smile, before disappearing into the trees.]
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Then Claude-- no, he was Khalid to her now, wasn't he? -- lowers her hand again, gives it a squeeze as he steps closer to close the distance between them, studying her face as if to remember this moment, engrave it on his heart.]
Can I...?
[His eyes go from her lips and upward again. He's asking permission this time, to make up for the desperation he had sprung on her in the roots.]
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He asks... and she turns her red cheeks away from him, then pulls her hand from his. She withdraws, is she truly about to flee after all this... ?
No.
She sidles a few feet to the left, coming to a stop next to a large stone at the edge of the stream where she waits somewhat expectantly, her blush growing stronger by the second. The rockseems to be roughly the perfect shape that, if he were to stand on it... he might reach or slightly overtake the foot-and-a-few-inches she has on him in height.]
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Hey, would you look at that. I've magically hit a growth spurt. [There is no rock here. Not at all.
All joking aside, he reaches to touch her jaw, her neck, below the patch covering her ruined eye, his fingers feather-light as his green eyes study her, now that it's easier to see her up close. He still can't believe she's accepted him, that the ruddiness spreading across her complexion is because of him, that she'll no longer give into the temptation to flee. Softly, he can only voice one thought.]
...I really am lucky.
[He's not talking about the rock any more.]
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... It's odd, to be face-to-face with a human. She doesn't do him the indignity of looking down at the rock.
Instead, sharp canines nip into her lip when his hand finally closes the distance between, smoothing along the lines of her jaw and down her neck. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, a little shiver tracing down her long spine to end in a twitchy flick of her tail. Of course he would torture her even still, forcing her to notice how vibrant and bright his eyes are, to inhale his scent, to hear him call himself lucky to have her acceptance...]
No...
[She finds herself tipping her face into the touch of his hand despite what she says, her voice a quiet, embarrassed murmur. Lucky?]
... You are a fool, Khalid.
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Unfortunately for you, I guess you're stuck with this fool.
[Because she accepted him, no matter how foolish and irrational he seems, no matter how much he doesn't seem to make sense to her. He closes the distance to kiss her, finally, his lips gentle yet urgent, chasing what they'd left behind at the roots of the Tree.]
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But he kisses her, and those words never quite make it to her tongue.
When they had kissed beneath the roots, sudden and desperate and unexpected, she had been a woman who could count such acts on the fingers of her hand, collected in the anonymous, mask-obscured night at the World's Edge when she had been tortured by the contents of spiked drinks and attempting to be rid of something. Since her last heat, laced with Discord that had driven her to seek relief, she had somehow become more shamefully versed in such things... but there are still traces of inexperience on her lips, of shyness in how she slowly tips her head to meet him.
How strange to be standing and not having to bend down to reach. To be able to move her hands upward and find a place in his shirt... to possessively curl her fingers.]
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It's not a wildfire that could burn him inside out, as he's sometimes heard passion described. It's a comforting, gentle thing, something he wants to protect and nurture, lest the cold and the dark parts of Kenos try to extinguish it.
He draws back, gently pressing his forehead to hers, his hand moving along the fine line of her neck to her powerful shoulder. He doesn't want to forget this feeling, for as long as he lives.]
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Her fingers tighten in his clothing as they kiss because... because the rational part of her still thinks he will come to his senses, the weak, emotional part of her doesn't want him to go after she's avoided him for weeks and tried fleeing from his offer of affection. Even as the kiss breaks and he presses their foreheads together from his borrowed, equal height...
She doesn't let go. Her breathing is shallow and slightly too quick, her cheeks still red... and one of her back legs is half-up, hoof quivering in the air and occasionally pawing at the earth. It feels like any words she could conjure up would be the wrong ones, her protests seem stupid, now-
So she doesn't say anything at all, waiting for him to break the silence instead as she inhales his scent from up close.]
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If anything, the little motion of hers is -- dare he even think the forbidden word -- cute. He smiles and kisses her again, at the corner of her mouth, and decides to keep what he says next casual.]
Not so bad, right?
[Kissing, he means. Nothing bad happened, and her warrior integrity wasn't suddenly shattered on the spot, or whatever else she was presumably thinking to get herself so worked up.]
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I didn’t say… it would be bad…
[Kissing him.
She’d said that he was an idiot to love her, that she couldn’t trust or believe so easily, that he had just been confused and desperate at the end of the world looking for someone to be together with, that she was a warrior and not a woman… and yes, there had been a part of her that was afraid something wrong would happen if she let a man kiss her without the excuse of seasonal desire or spiked drinks. But she hadn’t thought he would be a bad kisser.
In the depths of her heat when she’d fantasized about calling him for help… he’d been quite good at it, actually. Not that. She could just say that???]
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Could've fooled me, when you ran away last time.
[He knows the situation was much more complicated than that, and he's just being self-deprecating to be silly. Maybe it will help her feel better and less embarassed about the situation, if nothing else.
Noticing how her mouth had tipped towards his, though, how she still held him close, he wasn't about to leave her hanging. He kisses her again, hungrier than before, hands trailing down her sides to settle at her waist.]
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This time she can't stop the desire to protest. She... waits, though, because he offers her the kiss she had been angling for and it is longer, deeper, his hands coming to rest at her "waist" where human-like features began to transition to equine. At the World's Edge, that is when she'd begun to panic in her first attempt at masked intimacy, sure that her partner would somehow sense the differences in their bodies, remembering the way that potential buyers would slide there hands over her like horseflesh, but-
She won't. This time she won't. She's experienced more since then, she's more self-assured-
But when the kiss breaks she can't stop herself from fighting him on his words, even if they were a joke, muttering hot against his lips,]
I didn't run away.
[... Yes, she had. Run... in a direction away from him... But not because of his... Yes, because of his kiss, but more because of everything else- !!!!]
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[He concedes it mischievously, breathy against her mouth. He's making light of it, too, to show that he doesn't hold any of it against her. Crushed as he'd been at the time, it was the past. It was done. The bleak ending they could have had didn't happen, and now, things have turned out very differently, like that possibility had just been a bad dream.
He teases at the hem of her clothes, as if he wants to slip his wandering hands under, explore her further. Still, he's wondering if he should take things slow, a little at a time, not knowing how much will be too much too quickly for her. On this, as he imagines will be the case for many things, he'll follow Hayame's lead on her boundaries.]
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If not, by some miracle, then she would find it unbecoming enough for the both of them.
But his fingers slip along her dun coat and brush against her pelt wrap, the edges of her sleeveless kimono’s hem, and she… she doesn’t know what to do. He is so close that it’s hard, but her one remaining eye tries to focus on his, quietly asking for his intent. She doesn’t shy away, exactly, she doesn’t run… but her tail is swishing somewhat audibly behind her, her sharp canines digging briefly into her bottom lip.]
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Hey... Do you still need somewhere to stay? My place is still open to you, you know. I know it's not the most convenient for a jinba, but...
[It beats staying in a stall boxed in with four walls and not much else.]
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But without heat... She swallows her fears down. Her withers twitch and shiver beneath the slide of his hands until they find a resting point, and then... she is just standing there blushing.]
I have duties in Alenroux...
[She did, it wasn't even just hesitation, but... Her eye darts to the side for a moment, then back. Her fingers smooth out his clothing, from where she's rumpled it with her clutch.]
... But on the days I have to return to Springstar to report to the general...
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It's a date, then. [Multiple dates, even. What that entails, he doesn't elaborate, but he leaves the implication there: that he'd like to spend more time with her, beyond just necessities like providing her comfort and shelter. The routine still gives her space too, while she adjusts.]
And on days when you're in Alenroux and I'm around to tend to Naira, I'll come say hi, too. When you're not busy, of course.
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Who wants to "date". She has heard about... "dating". (It sounded confusing.)]
... Only when I am not busy.
[She frowns, the expression seemingly almost exaggerated again, like it's less a real look and more an attempt to maintain some sort of dignity in the midst of her fluster.]
I have a reputation...
[She can't have the soldiers thinking she's gone soft, or was distracted by some sort of affair- ?!]
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[Or at least he doesn't think so, not that he spends as much time among them as she does day to day.]
I think for those who care about you, they'd be happy for you. To everyone else, they'll figure it's none of their business.
[Gossipy types aside, but those are everywhere. He leans in to catch her lips in a brief kiss again, as if to head off another of her reflexive protests before they can happen. Then he adds, more softly:] But... we can take it slow. Nobody has to know until you're happy with it, and you know how long I can keep a secret.
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It somehow is not easy to let go of. Perhaps she had simply clung to it in order to keep her sanity in Horos, in Kenos, where things were so overwhelming and wrong...
He was right to think a protest might be coming. It is stalled by his kiss, and she finds herself lingering on his lips just because she doesn't know what words to use. Should she chastise him for reminding her how long he had lied about something as simple as his name? Should she try to claim that he was a man, and of course a man need not ever worry for damage to his reputation like a woman must? She nuzzles against his forehead for a moment, her eye drifting closed, and what finally comes out is an equally quiet, half-reluctant admission that,]
... It is not easy for me.
[She has fiercely protected her reputation and her status as a warrior ever since she'd understood how the world worked. To change it now...
... So. She is grateful. That he seems willing to be a secret until she says otherwise.]
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I know. But it'll get easier, I promise.
[He once never would have dreamed of being this close with anyone, and yet here he is. A little at a time he's lowered his guard, bared his soul, until there's none of his secrets left between them. If he can do it, anyone can, even someone who has experienced as many of life's cruelties as Hayame has.]
I'll be with you every step of the way. And eventually... you'll be able to look at life in a whole new way, without fear or shame. --No, [he pauses to reconsider, pulling back just enough to see her face once more,] you're already starting on that journey.
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She has already decided that she will believe in a far more outrageous promise from this man, so perhaps it is not much of a trial to believe in this one. But it is still somewhat difficult, and she cannot so easily just nod and agree. Her fangs dig in to the plush skin of her bottom lip again, swallowing her protest... and occupying herself more presently with finishing smoothing out his clothing.
There. Fixed.]
You needn't be so sappy...
[It is embarrassing. She does not know how to respond to it. And if she stays here longer then it will become even more obvious, (and the soldiers might notice that she was gone quite long into the woods with a man), so... She gently pushes, as if to urge him off his rock. Even if she looks slightly conflicted and reluctant to do so.]
... Your wyvern is waiting. Remember?
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He still simply feels... elated. How can he not be sappy, or want to drag the moment out for all it's worth, given everything?]
All right, you win. [He concedes, despite that.] I'll go.
[He turns, moving to the trees to head back the way he came, and pauses just a moment longer. That bird is still singing, somewhere in the distance.]
...Thanks. For coming to find me.
[Or waiting for him, or just happening to strategically run into him, or however she wanted to frame events. None of this would have happened, if not for her. But she told him not to be sappy, so with that said, he gives her one last smile, before disappearing into the trees.]