Theea
takes blood, sweat, and tears to look natural
I brighten. We have a deal. A training commitment means I’ll see him all the time—maybe not as often as I’d like with two regions between us, but more than now. "I’m gonna make you come train in the sand instead of the snow, too," I tell him, smiling but entirely serious.
My smile purses a little when he says I make it work—always like a fact, never flattery. I glance down at the gleaming blade and weigh it against the daggers I grew up on. Daggers live close to the ribs; this has reach and weight, a different kind of promise. There are benefits here, too. And I’m hunting monsters, not people. Looking at you, mom and dad.
Aria pads over, and I don’t hesitate to sheath the sword and crouch, scritching under her chin. Warmth pools in my chest—a memory of real heat that sinks into bone, even when we were freezing.
I slow my attentions on Aria and straighten at his voice, at the way his eyes settle on me. Beyond the doors, the guards’ clamor starts to wake. My smile goes soft and real and warmer than a hearth, cheeks heating like I’ve stepped into sunlight. An excuse to keep each other’s company—something that isn’t clashing steel and fists or hammering nails and hauling beams.
"Sounds amazing," I breathe, then add, a little too quickly, "I’m freezing. And starving. Worked up an appetite."
As we head for the exit, I bump his shoulder and don’t quite move away. My arm brushes his as we walk, and I let myself—dangerously—wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand.
FIN
My smile purses a little when he says I make it work—always like a fact, never flattery. I glance down at the gleaming blade and weigh it against the daggers I grew up on. Daggers live close to the ribs; this has reach and weight, a different kind of promise. There are benefits here, too. And I’m hunting monsters, not people. Looking at you, mom and dad.
Aria pads over, and I don’t hesitate to sheath the sword and crouch, scritching under her chin. Warmth pools in my chest—a memory of real heat that sinks into bone, even when we were freezing.
I slow my attentions on Aria and straighten at his voice, at the way his eyes settle on me. Beyond the doors, the guards’ clamor starts to wake. My smile goes soft and real and warmer than a hearth, cheeks heating like I’ve stepped into sunlight. An excuse to keep each other’s company—something that isn’t clashing steel and fists or hammering nails and hauling beams.
"Sounds amazing," I breathe, then add, a little too quickly, "I’m freezing. And starving. Worked up an appetite."
As we head for the exit, I bump his shoulder and don’t quite move away. My arm brushes his as we walk, and I let myself—dangerously—wonder what it would feel like to hold his hand.
FIN
that's how it's done
