Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
It's the subtle softening of her around him that eases some of the worry tightening in his chest. The slight manner in which she leans back, the way her fingers melt into the spaces between his, the faint kiss of her cheek over her scarf as a smile pushes past the fabric—it's all unspoken, but it's loud with promise. No matter the dark and the cold that threatens, they'll always reach out for one another, fitting themselves as best they can into those abysmal corners like nightlights braving the shadows. It's the acceptance, the return, the attempt of it all, that delivers enough shiny warmth to quell even the worst of the world. He's never been able to hold his hand out and know with certainty it'd be claimed, not until her.
Trying to leave every doubt into the seams of her pocket, like lint she could gather and fold away, his own smile breaks in easier around the silly ideas of snowy rainbows stretching out as neon bands in the night sky. Like Kaisel I dunno shit about snow places and their funny weather. "Aurora is their real name, Snowbow is their father's name nickname," he declares with a warm puff of breath rolling over the curve of her shoulder. The usual lilt to her voice returns, all of its earlier carefulness replaced with that easy shimmer he so adores, the sound of her happy and content like gold flecks scattered through every moment she touches, warming them into something dazzling without even trying.
His attention drifts up, as if expecting the mere mention of the living constellations would summon them into place. "Hmm, you have a point," he murmurs with the sort of dreamy absence of thought, already losing himself to this moment, wrapped in her warmth and captured by the lights weaving through the sky like a cosmic stitch. "I wonder what's colder, deep sea or space?" The whales would probably know.
He lifts himself from the gradual slumping of his posture against her as she begins to turn. He doesn't withdraw, just straightens, arms popping out to give her the room and the freedom to twist. Once she resettles, so does he, reclaiming any new space between them with a refusal to let it remain. His gaze has since dropped, catching on the peek of her face he can see from here. Her features are deep set with the shadowy haze of twilight, though the bold reflections of their adventure highlight some regions in quiet rebellion. Streaks of vibrantly colored light dance like something living across her, painting her with the full force of this moment's impossible beauty, as much in image as feeling. It pulls his breath in, careful not to disturb this for as long as he can, preserving her exactly as she is right now. He tucks it away in his chest with all the other ones she’s given him, wondering how it keeps making room for more.
Chicken butt, he's poised to say in response, the edge of a wind-wild grin already creeping in, but she doesn't give him the room, and thank the gods for that. Every word strikes him with the same gentle cleansing of raindrops, washing away the silliness that stretches in his smile. It doesn't strip his happiness, but seeps under the top layer of it, allowing something full and honest to emerge. What she says soaks down into the worries he’d folded up and set aside. They don't break, but soften until they're so thin there’s nothing left to hold onto beneath the warm drizzle of her certainty. For a heartbeat, he just stays there behind her, breath stalled somewhere between his ribs, the world oddly quiet despite the sharp breeze of the Tundra skies and the snap of sails. Then it lets go all at once.
A laugh breaks free, the sound not joyful so much as a release of exhausted relief, the hitch of his emotion bubbling up into something that can't take any other form when it's been completely smothered by her love. The gentle smile that sunk carefully and steadily into place behind her words now splits wide and unguarded, staying there like his face might never manage to fit anything less. He doesn't have the words to explain what she just did, so he doesn't bother trying. Instead he steps in, curling around from behind her to press a kiss so fierce with adoration his whole body flushes with the warmth of it. It’s clumsy in the small ways—an awkward angle, his whipped cream residue absolutely leaving a sticky trail on her skin, his lungs burning with the unprepared breath of it all—but none of that matters. All that exists is holding her and telling her in the only way that could possibly come close right now, just how much she means to him. Now, and always.
“Flora—gods,” he says with a soft chuckle of wonder as he tilts his head against her, pulling away just barely. He exhales quiet and awed, visible breath mingling in the small space between them. “You're my favorite person." The laughter of being so knocked off balance by her perspective still lingers in the edges of his voice. “I love every chance I get to be with you, and I can't wait to experience everything we can together. Even if it's a hundred first times seeing starwhales, on a dozen different skyships, in thousands of different skys.” He says it simple and certain, like the truth has finally found the easiest way out of him. The happiness that follows isn’t big, despite the fact it fills all of him. It just settles, bright and unmistakable, filling the space her words cleared until there’s nothing left but the two of them and the promise of everything still waiting to be seen, because it will all be theirs.
He does take a moment to tip his head back though, immeasurably smug as he calls out across the deck to Spice. "She said she loves me more than you!"
Trying to leave every doubt into the seams of her pocket, like lint she could gather and fold away, his own smile breaks in easier around the silly ideas of snowy rainbows stretching out as neon bands in the night sky. Like Kaisel I dunno shit about snow places and their funny weather. "Aurora is their real name, Snowbow is their father's name nickname," he declares with a warm puff of breath rolling over the curve of her shoulder. The usual lilt to her voice returns, all of its earlier carefulness replaced with that easy shimmer he so adores, the sound of her happy and content like gold flecks scattered through every moment she touches, warming them into something dazzling without even trying.
His attention drifts up, as if expecting the mere mention of the living constellations would summon them into place. "Hmm, you have a point," he murmurs with the sort of dreamy absence of thought, already losing himself to this moment, wrapped in her warmth and captured by the lights weaving through the sky like a cosmic stitch. "I wonder what's colder, deep sea or space?" The whales would probably know.
He lifts himself from the gradual slumping of his posture against her as she begins to turn. He doesn't withdraw, just straightens, arms popping out to give her the room and the freedom to twist. Once she resettles, so does he, reclaiming any new space between them with a refusal to let it remain. His gaze has since dropped, catching on the peek of her face he can see from here. Her features are deep set with the shadowy haze of twilight, though the bold reflections of their adventure highlight some regions in quiet rebellion. Streaks of vibrantly colored light dance like something living across her, painting her with the full force of this moment's impossible beauty, as much in image as feeling. It pulls his breath in, careful not to disturb this for as long as he can, preserving her exactly as she is right now. He tucks it away in his chest with all the other ones she’s given him, wondering how it keeps making room for more.
Chicken butt, he's poised to say in response, the edge of a wind-wild grin already creeping in, but she doesn't give him the room, and thank the gods for that. Every word strikes him with the same gentle cleansing of raindrops, washing away the silliness that stretches in his smile. It doesn't strip his happiness, but seeps under the top layer of it, allowing something full and honest to emerge. What she says soaks down into the worries he’d folded up and set aside. They don't break, but soften until they're so thin there’s nothing left to hold onto beneath the warm drizzle of her certainty. For a heartbeat, he just stays there behind her, breath stalled somewhere between his ribs, the world oddly quiet despite the sharp breeze of the Tundra skies and the snap of sails. Then it lets go all at once.
A laugh breaks free, the sound not joyful so much as a release of exhausted relief, the hitch of his emotion bubbling up into something that can't take any other form when it's been completely smothered by her love. The gentle smile that sunk carefully and steadily into place behind her words now splits wide and unguarded, staying there like his face might never manage to fit anything less. He doesn't have the words to explain what she just did, so he doesn't bother trying. Instead he steps in, curling around from behind her to press a kiss so fierce with adoration his whole body flushes with the warmth of it. It’s clumsy in the small ways—an awkward angle, his whipped cream residue absolutely leaving a sticky trail on her skin, his lungs burning with the unprepared breath of it all—but none of that matters. All that exists is holding her and telling her in the only way that could possibly come close right now, just how much she means to him. Now, and always.
“Flora—gods,” he says with a soft chuckle of wonder as he tilts his head against her, pulling away just barely. He exhales quiet and awed, visible breath mingling in the small space between them. “You're my favorite person." The laughter of being so knocked off balance by her perspective still lingers in the edges of his voice. “I love every chance I get to be with you, and I can't wait to experience everything we can together. Even if it's a hundred first times seeing starwhales, on a dozen different skyships, in thousands of different skys.” He says it simple and certain, like the truth has finally found the easiest way out of him. The happiness that follows isn’t big, despite the fact it fills all of him. It just settles, bright and unmistakable, filling the space her words cleared until there’s nothing left but the two of them and the promise of everything still waiting to be seen, because it will all be theirs.
He does take a moment to tip his head back though, immeasurably smug as he calls out across the deck to Spice. "She said she loves me more than you!"
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
