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sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-15-2025
Parting ways at the Skyport with the promise that the Maverick would come and visit the house when his trip was done, the butcher sets off down the Ahi Coast with a very specific, lovely mansion of a house in mind, looking forward to having a few days to relax and do nothing but gossip and hopefully spend a decent amount of time in the hot tub he’s been longing for ever since LongNight.
It takes him a bit longer than it otherwise would for the butcher to reach the doors of the Wildering House, stepping inside and setting his bag down. He does look a mess, a black eye that’s starting to turn yellow around the edges, a few bruises peppering his neck and the majority of his shoulders and chest that are blissfully hidden by the thick plush burgundy sweater he wears.
He looks mostly put together if not for the fact that his face is a mess and he walks more stiffly. His posture isn’t quite where he prefers it, either, but he’s so tall the majority of those that he passed by likely couldn’t tell. You would have to know him to know if he’s slouching even an inch. “[say]My darling Floraaa![/say]” He calls out into the House, a smile on display as he waits to see whether it’s the queen or a spirit he encounters first.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 11-15-2025
Flora is already halfway down the staircase when Asta's voice rolls through the front hall, the spirits having rustled eagerly around her a few minutes earlier in that way they always do when someone they like is approaching. She’d taken it as the warning it was meant to be, smoothing her curls into something vaguely presentable and wandering toward the landing in her favourite pair of high-waisted cropped trousers and a pale little top knotted just beneath her ribs, comfortable and sun-kissed enough for a day spent at home.
She’s smiling before she even sees him—Asta always draws that out of her, effortlessly—but the moment her eyes catch the colour blooming across his face her steps slow, her breath catching in that soft, startled ache that rises whenever someone she loves is hurting. The urge to bound the rest of the stairs and throw her arms around him sings through her like a chord plucked too hard, but she reins it in, moving instead with a gentler drift until she reaches the same floor, curls bouncing as she crosses the last bit of space.
Her expression melts into an adoring frown, warm and worried in equal measure, her aqua gaze tracing every bruise with the tenderness of fingertips she doesn’t dare lift yet. [say]"Babe..."[/say] Her voice flows out of her in a hush, affection settling around the syllable like sunlight through gauze. [say]"You look like someone who could use a very long, very indulgent soak in the healing waters of my hot tub."[/say]
She doesn’t touch him, but her whole posture leans toward him anyway, a quiet gravity, an invitation he can take or refuse depending on what his ribs or shoulders might say about sudden affection.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-15-2025
He spots her nearly immediately up on the top of the stairs, looking radiant as ever despite not having any events to go to. It’s an effortless put togetherness that the butcher admires, given how long it takes for him to get presentable. His smile is bright and sharp, wide as he sees the way his appearance reflects in her reaction. Silent, apart from the way his ashen tipped tail flicks back and forth eagerly, he waits until she’s before him and speaking before he offers his own rumble in return. “[say]I know, I know.[/say]” He hums with all the dramatics he can muster – one arm moving far more than the other. “[say]I was so hoping you would suggest such a thing, darling.[/say]” He hadn’t wanted to assume, of course. He is a guest in her home.
But she leans forward and Asta, despite the stiffness and soreness, has absolutely loaded up on pain killers and leans forward into her space to meet her – his good arm wrapping around her to tug her in for a hug that’s scented in smoke and ash and honey sweet whiskey. Withdrawing from the hug to let his hand trail down her arm to collect her own, he gives it a gentle squeeze. “[say]It looks worse now than it is. I have had some rounds of healing, but I am fairly certain that I have exhausted the healers of the Infirmary.[/say]” He admits with a little sheepishness. “[say]Anywayyy, how have you been? Anything to note happen as of late?[/say]”
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 11-15-2025
Flora wrinkles her nose up at him in the soft, ridiculous way she saves only for the people she truly adores, that tiny scrunch of affection that makes her curls bounce as she tips her head. The moment his good arm hooks around her she melts easily into his side, light as a tidepool wave but warm all the same, shaping herself carefully around the spaces that aren’t sore. Her fingers slip into his without hesitation, squeezing back with a gentle little pulse of reassurance that says she’s very happy he came.
The spirits, ever eager to impress, come drifting down the staircase behind her like an invisible parade: two enormous fluffy towels, the robes swaying from unseen hands, and bathing suits for them both. Her black one-piece drapes itself over her arm with a whisper of silk, and the pair of swimming shorts—black with tiny hellhounds trotting proudly across them—float toward Asta with all the subtlety of a wink. Flora huffs a laugh, the sound bright and fond.
[say]"Oh, you'll turn into a prune long before the healing waters even think about getting tired of you,"[/say] she teases, leaning in just enough to nudge her shoulder against his good one, her smile widening at the theatrics of his earlier tone.
She reaches out to pluck her towel and robe from the air, hooking her fingers through the strap of the swimsuit before guiding them both toward the hall that leads to the terrace and the steaming pool beyond.
[say]"Oh, not much,"[/say] she says breezily, as though listing her grocery errands. [say]"I sort of threatened the new Commander of Stormbreak because he was rude to me, had what I would truly call an unnecessarily dramatic family dinner, and now I’m trying to find the time to get the Hanged Man rebuilt."[/say] She shrugs, expression as unbothered as someone describing a mild sunburn. [say]"And trying to plan Kai's birthday party, so, you know. The usual."[/say]
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-17-2025
She’s warm and molds against him as he hugs her tight to him despite the soreness and the bruises that are slowly recovering day by day. And as he takes her hand, he feels her squeeze back in agreement just before the spirits of the Wildering House make their appearance with all the lovely little items they’ll need for a perfect day in her healing waters.
“[say]Thank you, my dears.[/say]” The butcher trills as he lets Flora’s hand go to collect the towel and the swim trunks, taking note of the little hellhounds and their proud puffed out chests as they appear to be designed like they’re trotting across the soft material. “[say]Oh, and hellhounds,[/say]” he drawls with a warm laugh of appreciation, his tail wagging slightly with the reaction not unlike a dog about to go to the park).
Nuding her back lightly with his shoulder as he beams his sharp smile her way, he takes in her bright gaze and sighs contently with the prospect of becoming a prune. “[say]Very good. I cannot wait.[/say]” He says as he follows her without any additional prompting, listening instead to the things he’s missed since they’d last talked.
“[say]Oh ho, do tell.[/say]” The butcher grins over at Flora – letting the smile fade slightly as he perks up with the mention of the Hanged Man. “[say]What happened to the Hanged Man?[/say]” He asks, trying to recall if he’d heard her mention anything about it when they’d gotten together during LongNight. “[say]As for Kai, I can try to be somewhat helpful for his birthday party planning. It is Danta’s this season as well and have thankfully already planned most of it, even if the mud behemoth was a surprise.[/say]” His nose wrinkles as he shakes his head and sighs, stepping out after her toward the steaming pool toward the lounging pool chairs where he might be able to change and slip out of the clothes he’d traveled in so he can slip on the hellhound shorts.
Slow at first, the butcher peels the jacket and the shirt off, revealing the mapping of healing bruises that are there that the healing waters would hopefully take good care of, and the wide arcs of pale skin on his arm in three separate places which are new from the last time she had seen his arm and multitude of scars already littered about.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 11-18-2025
Flora laughs, bright and delighted, the sound spilling out of her like sun-warm water. [say]"Of course,"[/say] she says, absolutely charmed as Asta holds up the hellhound shorts. She drifts with him toward the chairs and the little changing alcoves, curls bouncing, towel tucked beneath her arm. At the question, she rolls her eyes so dramatically it’s a wonder they don’t fall straight out of her head. [say]"Oh gods, well...Kaisel’s ex burned it down."[/say] She says of the Hanged Man, pausing just long enough to let the absurdity settle before widening her eyes for emphasis, hands splaying as if displaying a particularly spicy piece of art. [say]"Because he told her he was dating me. Which—"[/say] she lifts a shoulder, [say]"—rude, but also deeply flattering if you look at it from the right angle."[/say] In the words of Taylor Swift, it's actually romantic.
There’s enough distance from the sting now that she can appreciate the theatricality of it; the jealous blaze, the collapse of one era, the chance to build something shinier and wilder from the ashes. [say]"And to save face,"[/say] she adds with a groan, pressing a hand to her forehead, [say]"I told all of Torchline that I burned it down so I could rebuild something better. So now I actually have to rebuild something better. Which is...honestly exhausting."[/say]
Her laughter softens into a grin as she turns back toward Asta, standing with arms full of towel and robe. At the mention of Danta’s birthday she gasps, the sound high and scandalously enthusiastic. [say]"What have you planned? Tell me everything. And is it something just between the two of you, or am I invited?"[/say] Her brows lift, hopeful, playful.
Then, a sigh—warm, fond, affectionate enough to glow—Flora glances back over her shoulder as he strips down, her aqua eyes tracing the new pale arcs on his arm, the bruises still tinting his skin, the familiar constellation of old scars. [say]"Honestly,"[/say] she murmurs, voice dipping into something soft and delighted, [say]"you just get more handsome every single time I see you."[/say] The grin that follows is mischievous but full of admiration.
With that, she slips behind one of the frosted privacy screens, her silhouette briefly visible between the drifting steam; long legs, a flash of lifted arms as she changes, curls shaking loose. She reappears moments later in a black one-piece, the plunging neckline sweeping all the way down to reveal the dip of her navel, the fabric sleek against her sun-bronzed skin. Her gold jewellery catches the light like tiny comet trails as she tosses her towel down nearby and steps into the water with a delighted hum of approval.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-20-2025
“[say]Oh, darling, what a display.[/say]” The butcher approves of the story of which caused the Hanged Man to burn down. Obviously it was upsetting that it had to happen, but the reasoning? The butcher can absolutely look at it in the right light. Just Flora’s name in regards to whomever Kaisel’s ex was, was enough to demolish something of such importance? It sounds childish in the way that he would agree that it’s a good bare bones for a good love story.
But then she has to make her own plans for it, the rebuild, taking the blame, swallowing down whatever’s happened in order to make something new without the memories. “[say]I can only imagine. I am quite happy to help should you require it, though.[/say]” He hums, leaning into her space once he’s dressed for the healing warm water that calls to the bruises and pain still in his bones. He nudges her gently with his elbow and offers a shark tooth grin before he withdraws, snorting softly to hear her excitement regarding Danta’s birthday.
“[say]Well, I am afraid it likely isn’t your scene, darling.[/say]” He sighs dramatically and a touch sorrowful. “[say]I have planned a hunt – and not particularly one for your average deer.[/say]” If she catches his meaning, so be it, but his smile doesn’t give anything away whether the game was deer, bears, or people. “[say]Yet in terms of an actual celebration, perhaps something along those lines might make for a nice apology for going and doing all of, mm, well… This.[/say]” Gesturing to the pale arcs of scar tissue and letting his tail wag to hear her praise for his appearance regardless of the black eye and the bruising, he chuckles a soft “[say]thank you, darling[/say]” before following her into the warmth of the water.
Immediately there’s the sense of dull sparks of pain alleviating, a welcoming sensation as he sinks into it until the water rests against his neck and the edge of his jaw, the long dark hair kept swept back behind his horns long enough now to start wicking the water like a watercolor paintbrush. “[say]You know… I thought for a second that he was going to break up with me after I got back.[/say]” He trails off, his fingertips toying with the water in front of him before he lifts his dark gaze over toward Flora – a faint smile still tugged on his face but he somehow looks much softer.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 11-21-2025
Flora huffs an enormous, theatrical sigh, rolling her eyes skyward as though beseeching the gods for strength in the face of such absurd memories. [say]"Oh, it absolutely was,"[/say]she insists, curls bouncing with the force of her indignation. [say]"And then after they burned it down, the three triplets just packed up and moved to King’s End to go be with Jack or whatever."[/say] Her hands fling outward in an exasperated flourish, as though presenting the world’s most dramatic disappearing act.
Her expression softens immediately afterward, nose wrinkling in that endearingly affectionate way she never bothers to hide from him. [say]"And yes, I will very happily take you up on the offer. The bar will absolutely benefit from your touch."[/say]
When he describes the hunt he’s planned for Danta, Flora chuckles, low and amused, nodding with a wisdom that says oh yes, that all tracks entirely. [say]"No, that probably isn’t a party I’d know my way around,"[/say] she concedes lightly. [say]"But if you ever want someone to channel a spirit for you two to sink your teeth into for something different..."[/say] Her lips pull into a sly smile. [say]"You only have to ask."[/say]
She sinks slowly into the hot tub beside him, a luxurious sigh unspooling from her chest as the healing warmth starts seeping into every stubborn knot of tension. For a moment she’s simply quiet, letting the steam embrace her, letting the water rise along the plunge of her swimsuit until it kisses her collarbones. But then he continues—softly, enough to almost vanish beneath the sound of their small waves—and she gasps. It’s theatrical, yes, but it’s also entirely genuine because she cannot fathom the sentence he has just offered her. Her aqua eyes widen, clear shock painted across her face as she turns fully toward him.
[say]"Asta,"[/say] she breathes, horror and disbelief braided through her voice. [say]"What do you mean? Why would you think that?"[/say] The question is gentle but absolutely laden, the kind of stunned refusal that comes only from someone who cannot imagine Danta choosing to step away from the man before her or even be upset at him over a bit of a scrap with some mud. Her curls cling damply to her cheek, and she leans in just a little, as though proximity will help her make sense of something that simply makes none at all.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-21-2025
“[say]Mm, well, I suppose at least they are no longer a threat or a reminder?[/say]” He suggests in regards to the triplets and Jack for that matter. And when his offer of help is accepted, his smile twitches toward something knowing before he’s explaining the hunt he’s got planned. Her offer for a spirit to let him sink his teeth into is a generous one, and one that he notes for later perhaps.
Because today despite the mud and the pain that radiates through the butcher, he’s well fed and his bloodlust feels mostly well enough under control – a first in a while, though it helps when traveling to be able to sneak off and find something unsuspecting. “[say]Thank you for the offer, darling.[/say]” He hums softly, sinking into the hot tub, the warmth radiating and smoothing out the incessant sting of the mostly healed wounds and the bruises that look worse than they actually are these days.
And then, he lets it slip. Enough that he tucks his head in a little, bearded chin sinking toward his chest as he regards the Queen and her horror – like she can’t imagine it just as much as he couldn’t in the moment, his misunderstanding being yet another forefront of a conversation only to be alleviated later with the realization that he wouldn’t be leaving the Maverick as easily as just one death.
“[say]We talked the day after I came back and he had the healer come by. I… stressed him out, understandably, coming home the way that I had. So, when we talked, I thought... mm, well, I was exhausted and still sluggish and I thought he was saying he was tired of loving me.[/say]” So obviously that meant that he wanted a fresh pace, with someone he didn’t have to worry about – because the butcher’s mind worked in long stretches and leaps, mistaking portions of the road that it took to get to the result for final nails in a coffin. “[say]I misheard or misunderstood, though, so all is well. Mostly. You know how I can be.[/say]” His elbow sneaks toward her to nudge her gently with the grin he shoots her way, because if anyone understood his horrible misunderstandings at times, it was Danta and Flora. Especially Flora, given the state of their dating history.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 11-26-2025
Flora wrinkles her nose at the very idea, a tiny, indignant scrunch that ripples through her curls and settles in the water as a faint shimmer. [say]"They were never a real threat,"[/say] she insists, even though some small, honest place in her chest knows better—that if the Marins had stayed, if Jack had stayed tangled in that aftermath, Torchline might have gone up in a blaze far worse than a pub—but she refuses to give that thought any oxygen. [say]"Just...dramatic,"[/say] she concludes, with all the prim finality of someone placing a bow on a messy parcel and pushing it firmly aside.
She sinks deeper into the water until it laps warmly at her collarbones, steam curling around her shoulders like soft, enchanted veilwork. She listens as Asta explains, her aqua eyes widening in that raw flash of disbelief before softening into something tender and understanding. The more he speaks, the more the shape of it becomes clear; how easily exhaustion and fear could twist an innocent phrasing into something fatal in the wrong headspace, especially one that loves as fiercely and catastrophically as his.
When he finishes, she lets out a relieved laugh, bright and airy, nudging his arm right back now that the water has eased the stiffness in his muscles. [say]"Oh, Asta,"[/say] she sighs fondly, letting warmth colour every inch of the sound. She huffs playfully at him, eyes sparkling. [say]"Let me guess—he was just saying he was worried about you?"[/say]
Her lashes flutter upward in a teasing sweep as she leans comfortably into his side, steam curling between them like a soft cloak. The water shifts with her movement, a lazy ripple spreading outward as she tilts her head against his shoulder. A smirk tugs at her lips, aimed down into the shimmering surface as though she can see the reflection of every past misunderstanding he’s ever endured (or at least the ones she was there for).
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 11-30-2025
“[say]Mm, I do not mean a threat in the way one might assume to be dangerous.[/say]” He pauses, because Flora was strong — stronger than he was and he can recognize it with absolute ease and understanding even if it recoils against a previous part of himself that had been striving to be the strongest. “[say]I believe I meant more along the lines of emotionally.[/say]” He hums, leaning toward her so that his good arm brushes against her with a warm, too sharp smile that seems to suggest he can understand.
After all, she and Jack had been dating when he’d gone and had kids with a goddess. Which was messy in its own right.
But the butcher also can’t imagine having children, the mere thought brushes up against every portion of his soul still encapsulated by the harsh snows of Whitebrim. It’s more survival than anything, and nothing like it once was, but Asta can’t help but to try to avoid that at all costs.
Luckily, it isn’t something he has to worry about. Instead he can sit here beside his beautiful friend, healing in waters that have cut through the ache of his bones and the sharp screaming ticks of pain through the rest of his old body, gossiping like old hens. She nudges his arm and he watches her with a sheepish glint of his eyes and a smile that tugs a bit higher to hear the soft oh Asta, because gods, he knows that was one hell of a time to misunderstand.
His arm sweeps around her shoulder easily as she tucks in against his side, the water sloshing slightly with the movement up his chest to relieve some long dead pain that continues to ghost through his scars. “[say]Essentially.[/say]” He murmurs with a small shrug. “[say]And that he wished for me to stay in one piece so he did not have to worry constantly.[/say]” Which he could absolutely understand. He was, after all, equally as protective when Danta was gone. Except he typically didn’t get into trouble the way that Asta tends to.
“[say]Which is partially the reason I told him to take a vacation with zero holds barred. I believe he is spending it with your… step father?[/say]” He can’t hide the way his tail lashes a little beneath the warm water at the thought of the Flood. “[say]And I promised him I would stay out of trouble by spending time with my favorite Queen.[/say]” He tilts his head toward her with that still too sharp grin, warm and appreciative of her friendship as he squeezes her shoulders slightly.
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 12-01-2025
Flora’s frown forms slowly, the kind that gathers in the soft pull of her brows and the faint downturn of her mouth, a quiet ache of recognition settling beneath her ribs. Of course he’s right. It had simply been easier—cleaner—to pretend the whole ordeal had been more dramatic than dangerous, more theatrical than devastating. But hearing it said aloud, gently and without judgment, is like a pin slipping into a balloon she’s been patching for seasons. [say]"Yeah,"[/say] she murmurs, almost too soft for the bubbling water to carry. [say]"You’re right."[/say] Her eyes lift to him when he nudges her, and she offers him a crooked, rueful smile; something warm, something grateful, something that acknowledges the part of her that still twitches at the name Jack.
When his arm drapes around her, she slides in without hesitation, fitting herself against his side with a naturalness that feels older than it should be. The solid warmth of him, the strength beneath the healing wounds, is grounding in a way she hadn’t realized she needed. She lifts her hands and starts toying lazily with the bubbles the jets keep sending up, letting the foam slip between her fingers like drifting bits of seafoam breaking on a summer shore.
[say]"Maybe what you and Danta need,"[/say] she muses, voice brightening as she spins a little cluster of bubbles into a miniature whirlpool, [say]"is some kind of item. Something that lets you know when the other is in danger, and then just teleports you right to them."[/say] She glances up at him with raised eyebrows, shrugging lightly against his side. [say]"So if it’s quiet, you know they’re safe. And if it lights up or glows or sings at you or something, you can go charging in and save the day."[/say] She’s half teasing, half utterly serious, and entirely sure that Dygra could likely make the pair something like that.
The moment he mentions Sunjata, though, her eyebrows shoot up before she can temper her expression. [say]"Ewwwuh."[/say] she huffs, incredulous and a little horrified, pulling a face that scrunches her nose as if she’s been offered a drink that smells faintly like seawater and questionable decisions. Sunjata might not officially be her step-dad yet, but that was the place he occupied in her mind.
The absurdity of it all makes her laugh under her breath, shaking her head. [say]"As much as I adore spending time with you,"[/say] she says warmly, [say]"I don’t think I could ever offer something like that to Kai."[/say] Her nose wrinkles again, the corners of her mouth tipping in amused disbelief. There’s no judgment in her tone, just honest curiosity as she looks up at him, aqua eyes bright with interest. [say]"Does it ever bother you? Or...is it fine for you two?"[/say]
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Astaroth - 12-01-2025
If there’s one thing the butcher thinks he can do, is that he can be the pillar of support that Flora may need here and there. And while she doesn’t seem to need it all that often – not outright, it never hurts to hear it unbidden. When you don’t have to ask to hear it, and Asta tries to pay special attention to those moments.
Such as now, as his good arm slips around her and tucks her in, watching sidelong as she plays with the bubbles that appear between her fingers from the jets that are doing Caido’s work to heal his aching body. It works incredibly, and the butcher realizes he likely hasn’t felt this relaxed and limber in years (give or take a few centuries as a gargoyle), and uses that to focus on her as she makes a suggestion that’s really something he’ll chastise himself later for not thinking of first.
“[say]Mm, thank Dygra for you and your thoughts, darling.[/say]” The butcher purrs, shooting her a vibrant and shark-toothed grin. “[say]That is a wonderful idea. Perhaps I will ask for one once I am finished with my current quest.[/say]” Which given the state of himself over the past few seasons had slipped his mind. He’ll have to make it up to Dygra one way or another (perhaps his hunt with Danta can also share part of that burden).
When she huffs at the mention of Sunjata, though, Asta’s laugh is deep and charmed. “[say]I know, right?[/say]” He breathes through and amused sigh, his grin still bright as he sinks back into the hot tub so his back rests fully against the back of the hot tub, his tail flicking back and forth under the water and brushing against the Doubletake’s legs on occasion.
But then she mentions that she doesn’t think she could offer something like that to Kai and he tilts his horned head to peer at her curiously when she meets his gaze in return, her bright aqua ones harboring a bright gleam of curiosity in whether or not it bothered him, which is a question he’s asked himself a lot over the past few seasons.
“[say]It was worse for me at first.[/say]” He starts off, looking away from her as if he’s thinking about just how to explain it. “[say]I think our libidos are more aligned in Leafchange these days than any other times. So it was.. an adjustment. And I believed I would be fine with it at first, which turned out to be a little less than ideal. It was not his fault, of course, but it was a conversation after.[/say]” Humming a thoughtful note as he recollects the conversation. “[say]There are those that I am willing to share with and be near, but it is better for me to not be around if he wishes to indulge on his own.[/say]” He shrugs lightly, casually, turning his attention back over toward her. “[say]It is different with you, of course, given our history.[/say]”
RE: sucks to be rich in the tropics, said nobody - Flora - 12-01-2025
Flora looks up at Asta with an immediate, sun-bright warmth that always answers his praise, her smile blooming wide and adoring enough to soften every angle of her face. [say]"What are you questing for?"[/say] she asks, curious and delighted, then blinks quickly, hands lifting from the bubbles in a tiny flutter. [say]"You don’t have to tell me if it’s something personal,"[/say] she adds, the words tumbling out with genuine care rather than retreat, remembering about the crow-charm he wore on his wrist and how long it had taken for him to tell her about its meaning.
His tail brushes her legs beneath the water and goosebumps chase upward in a soft, shimmering trail, not from cold but from the gentle, unexpected intimacy of it. Instead of pulling back, she relaxes even more fully against him, curling into the solid expanse of his side. It’s comforting in a way that feels rare and entirely welcome, leaving her feeling small against him, and safe, and held without having to earn it.
When he looks down at her and then away, she studies the shift of his expression: the line of his jaw tightening under old memories, the faint furrow between his brows, the lingering ache he tries so hard not to burden anyone with. She slides her head against his chest, nestling in quietly, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat under the heated water soothe both of them. Her nod is gentle, understanding humming through her like a low tide, knowing what he means about it not being Danta's fault.
Then he looks at her again—really looks—and as he clarifies that it's different with her, the laugh that tumbles out of her is warm and surprised and threaded with something fondly incredulous. [say]"It's different with you too,"[/say] she agrees easily, [say]"and with Danta."[/say] It still astonishes her sometimes, how the paths of their lives tangled together in the ways they did, how comfortable the knot feels now that the tension has eased.
She draws in a breath, the confession pulling itself up from somewhere deeper. [say]"On one hand, I understand,"[/say] she says, her fingers drifting idly through the swirling bubbles again. [say]"Sex can just be sex. It doesn’t have to mean anything."[/say] She sighs, the admission soft but weighted. [say]"But near the end with Jack..it was just sex, right up until suddenly it wasn’t."[/say] Her cheeks warm with the flush of guilt and memory as she glances up at the butcher, almost shyly. [say]"And that was all it took. One tiny shift. One moment where it stopped being meaningless, and it blew everything up."[/say]
She swallows, shaking her head faintly. [say]"I can’t imagine how it would feel if that happened with Kai and someone else. And maybe it makes me selfish, but the thought of taking that chance? It terrifies me."[/say] Her chin tips upward, aqua eyes lifting to meet his with a mixture of admiration and ache. [say]"I wish I could be as trusting as you are."[/say]