(SE) when the nighttime comes, say yes

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

She grows still as he moves her slightly, the ripples of water doing little to try and separate them — but he’d promised to catch her should she drift, and at this present moment with how her body aligns with his, he can’t help but to want it to continue. But there’s tension in the air between them, a taught string that grows increasingly as flimsy as his resolve, as he can feel her heart thunder in her chest, feel it race against his hand and his body from where they align.

And he wants more.

Perhaps it’s greed, to want to share this with her. But from how she reacted prior, he‘s not sure she’s ever done anything like this. And so he wants to ensure that her first time is nice, sweet, fearless in the face of if she attempted to again. And she doesn’t move away despite their closeness, despite the way she searched her gaze uncertain if she should, uncertain if she wants to.

She’ll find within them that he absolutely does want to.

He searches her pale gaze, where once she may have been unable to see, vision brought back through lenses that should have changed to reflect it. He finds it endearing, stroking her jaw further at their closeness, at the dewy water that lingers on her pale lashes. Her hand splays along the back of his neck, reaching into his dark hair, and there’s a breathy hum of approval at that, at an agreement that burns with the tension within him.

He forgets about the ring on his finger, transfixed by her, forgets about everything aside from the string that connects them and the fiery feeling within him he tries to swallow down. He hopes she’ll stay, hopes she’ll still train with him, still stay at the bar. But he’s not so sure after this.

Because he leans in ever so slowly to give her time to react, eyes finding the lips she anxiously chewed at, runs his tongue over his own as he leans in to capture her lips with his in a soft, gentle, smooth kiss. He can smell the scent of the river and the dryness of parchment within her, like how she could smell the remnant hints of smoke and the river as well. And he hopes he hasn’t made a terrible mistake, breaking and giving in, no longer caring.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

It is a mistake. And it's on her. It's on him. It's on both of them, now that there was no turning back. Whatever this attraction was, wherever it came from it was thunder and lightning, but wrapped up in sunshine, laughter and bloody old bandages, barely covering wounds that still wept. Maea would never be able to explain it, nor her reasons for caving in to the hunger she saw in his eyes as he looked at her.

Maybe, in the end, there were no reasons. Just want. The ultimate ego trip of being desired, for once in her fucking life.

He paused, one breath away, searching her soul for something, and perhaps he found it because then her hand was in his hair and his lips were on hers and there was a spark of elation in her stomach, like a million butterflies taking flight. He was gentle. Oh, so soft, and warm, and if there was a strange aftertaste of guilt, if the swooping was followed by a sickening plummet when she recalled that she'd broken her own promises to herself in the end... she soon forgot about it.

Maea had never been kissed before. Though she'd seen this coming, she did not really know what to do now. How long should she stay still, what was she supposed to do with her hands, and was it strange that her thoughts kept racing around the head like a flock of sheep? She felt his chest against hers, a strong arm holding her in a tight grip and it felt good, far too nice to give up. So... she gambled on easing herself closer. Answering the wordless declaration with one of her own... not pulling away until flashes of light began to dance before eyelids she couldn't remember closing.

She'd forgotten to breathe entirely.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

There’s an incredible amount of hunger in the look he gives her, as he searches her, horned head inching closer to close the gap on that string that grows looser and looser the closer they get, sharing breaths. Her hand in his hair, his hand at the small of her back pulling her into him as his lips find hers, soft and gentle as he can be.

He doesn’t care how much of a mistake it is. All he can feel is her lips on his, her hands on him, her body pressed against his in such a way that when she reciprocates, there’s another quiet hum that leaves him in relief. He guides her through the motions, gentle and soft, slightly deeper as he fights the internal battle warring within himself to not completely give in, to make it enjoyable and kind. His hand leaves her jaw then, wrapping along the side of her neck under her hair, soft gentle strokes along her skin. And she moves closer to him, the edge of a smile felt within the kiss that he deepens slightly, before he realizes he should withdraw.

So terribly reluctantly, Sunjata withdraws, a small playful and gentle nip at her lower lip, pulling away enough to press his horned forehead against hers to search that pale gaze for a reaction, within reach should she want more. His cheeks are flushed and there’s an incredibly soft smile to his lips at that, forgetting everything else aside from her, swallowing her up with his stormy gaze.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

It was a little girl's romantic dream come true. The handsome stranger, the balmy summer breeze, a gentle kiss on trembling lips. Except... well. The man is married, and they're standing in a river, soaked to the bones. Small fish swarm around their feet in the relatively still waters of the cove, and a little gryphon could be yawning on a pile of clothes, bored to the teeth with the humans. Her skin is flushed and tender under the merciless rays of the sun, and it hurts a little to be hugged so tightly.

But the ache is sweet, and her eyes are a touch hazy as he pulls away. Still only a breath away, but she needed hers. Quite badly, because somewhere in that blissful and too short moment she'd lost all of it. He sought her gaze, all smiles and tender promise, and she has the chance to give in again. To lean forward just a touch and taste that laughing mouth again. She ached to do so, wanted it more than she could recall wanting anything else in her life.

Yet... in the end, though she returned a shaky smile of her own the girl looked down, away. Face flushed, guilt half hidden behind those long lashes. And she withdrew ever so slightly, should he allow it. If he decided to maintain the crushing grip around her there was nothing she could do about it - absolutely nothing - but it had not occurred to her that he might not want to let her go.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

She gives him a shaky smile, and something within him sinks as she turns away slightly. He lets up on his hold on her, watching her face turn away from him, spying that pale jawbone he’d want nothing more than to tenderly kiss, her neck beneath the white of her hair, and he swallows hard. “Maea.” His hoarse voice whispers to her, aware of how close they are, how he could pull her back in if he wanted to.

And gods how he wants to.

But he refrains, hand still at her neck as he strokes the side of it, unable and incapable of stopping that small gesture. She’d told him that she hadn’t wanted to do this, because of Phoebe, and yet it had still happened — had slipped his mind because he hadn’t cared and the feeling of her body against his had become too powerful. He exhales a shuddering sigh, smile faltering as concern crosses his gaze. “I’m sorry.” Because it was his fault, had he not tested and teased her and taunted her, she may not have put herself in that place.

But he’d wanted her to, wanted to get her to experience it just once if that was all he got, something to treasure and keep all to himself.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

It was, perhaps, one of the hardest things she'd done. To look up at him and shake her head, to forgive him even as she pretended this hadn't been her own choice. But though she ached to lean back in, to throw all caution to the wind and just flow with him, this game... had already gone too far.

"It's.. okay" she said, voice soft, a little hoarse. Quite sad, as her little reply suggested it was not in fact, okay at all. Even the tone was a lie, suggesting she was glad he let her go when in fact she was aching for him to hold on, keep her still, kiss her again. But it was a necessary deception. For her own sake. For Phoebe's. For his, even if he seemed oblivious to the damage this was doing to himself. Ought to be doing, at least, if he cared half as much as he so far made her believe.

Quite gently she freed herself from his arms and let the river carry her away from the warmth he offered. For a moment Maea just let herself drift, then began to make her way towards the shore. It was very difficult not to look back at him, to see what her words might be doing to him - he'd asked and she'd practically said yes, but now that she changed her mind and let him believe he'd hurt her...? - but she kept her eyes fixed on the gryphon and the basket, on the clothes and the path that would lead her away from here.

Not right away, of course. She wasn't angry, or hurt (not quite) just... not up for doing this any more. There was room for more words, reassurances, apologies perhaps. But no more hugs. No more kisses or confidences.

No more secrets to weigh her down next time she tried to look a friend in the eye.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

It’s not okay, and her voice is hoarse and sad and gods he’s an idiot. He’d intended to do this with someone, a release, but he’d never anticipated it to be her. Someone else perhaps, that would be far less hurt, far more willing. And he aches with her absence, with putting her in this situation, and he lets her go to watch her drift – steel eyes shadowed and haunted, head angling to watch the waves of the water from the space she’d just been, hands clenching and unclenching beneath the surface.

He exhales a raspy sigh, reaching up to run a hand through his hair and shake his head – so cold despite the heat of the sun behind his back, along his spine, tanning and reddening. He looks back up finally to her, to ensure she hasn’t just went off and drowned herself, watching as she makes her way to the shore – and he can’t just let her go, let her leave like that. His cheeks are flushed, shadows haunting his gaze, never having intended it but wanting it all the same.

He swims then, to the shore as well, surfacing and pulling himself up from the rocks edge, letting the water drip from hair and horns and the rest of his body as he rises to his full height, quite a bit taller than she is where she keeps her eyes on the basket and Haai gives her a quiet howl. “Maea, talk to me.” His voice is hoarse and raspy and there’s a hint that it might break there, wondering if she’ll keep the secret, wondering if it should be kept as his heart thunders in his chest and he takes a step toward her.

To do what, he’s not sure. He can feel it still, feel the need to touch and hug and hold and assure – hand outstretched, edged in dark claws as though he’s let go in the emotions that slip over him with it.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

Her name on his lips was like feeling his hand trail down her spine all over again. He sounded so desperate as he came after her, and it nearly tore her apart to let it stay that way. But she did not stop until she reached the shore, could stand up with water only to her knees and freed of the need to lean on him for support. The white underdress clung to her body, revealing far more of her slender, willowy figure than might be wise right now. But the fabric is blissfully opaque, keeping most of her secrets to herself still and with her hair a tangled, wet mess clinging to the neck, cheeks, shoulders...

She turned, facing him fully.

Her raised chin drew a line between them, as sure as if she'd painted it in the gravel with a stick. It's in her eyes, that show no fear of the claws or the horns but offer no suggestion of leniency either. She would not let him touch her again today. Maea would back off if he tried, run if she had to, because... because if he did close that distance, she might not be able to resist anymore.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, soft, quiet. A creature wrought of ice, about to melt in the sun. How long had they been playing in the water? An hour perhaps, maybe less. There had been quite a lot of talking, and some horsing around. They'd caught the sun, both of them, and still it hung over them like a glaring, watchful eye. Maea thought she saw judgement in it, as she shifted into the nearest source of shade.

A tree. Not Sunjata.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

She faces him fully, and he pauses, falters and stops like a pillar – watching as she raises her chin to draw the line between them, and he finds that shade within his heart, within his mind, the dark recesses that helped keep him wearing the mask he had when she’d stumbled upon him. But she knows too much now, knows the darkness that swarms around his heart – not all of it, never quite all of it – but enough that she could use it in one way.

Like everyone had, in some way.

And it hurts, in his weakness, in letting her grow close enough to feel the curves of her willowy body against his muscled one, that kept him talking despite knowing when it was time to keep his mouth shut. Perhaps he was the monster that everyone told him he was, the Flood that’s returned but under the darker swaths and shades of a raging river. Sinking deeper and deeper like an anchor, swept away and forgotten long after his use was fulfilled.

He doesn’t know what he wants her to say, but he wants her to say something, to give him something to work with if he can’t touch her, can’t hold her again. His mouth opens to say something when she moves to the shade of a tree, but before he can get a word out, the feather reaches the back of his throat and he turns from her half way as his exhaustion and overexertion catch up, causing that deep sound of a serious of coughs to leave him.

When he’s recovered enough, he runs another hand through his hair and looks back at her, rasping for breath. “Anything.” He admits, voice equally as haunted as his gaze where not long ago she had lit them up.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

She could have picked him apart, at that moment. Maea had never been given that kind of power over anyone before. So many gifts he imparted on her this day... Life guidance, fun, all his experience to learn from and a kiss too. Perhaps she was the real monster here, who even considered letting him think that she hated this last part. Her resolve faltered, the lie growing stale on her tongue already.

But it was the cough that undid her. Wet, rasping, growing from somewhere deep in his lungs. She half expected blood to cover his lips when he turned back to face her again, and her hands balled up into fists to hold back the urge to go over and steady him. The hoarse, hollow voice finally undid her, the look in his eyes making her afraid of what might happen if she really went through with the cold, callous severing she'd resolved herself to.

Breathing in a shivering lungful of air, the calm mask crumbled a little. There was longing in her gaze as she watched him, a little quiver about the lips before she could stop it. Pulling the hair away from her face with icy fingers, Maea shook her head.

"I didn't hate it. The kiss. It was... nice." An understatement of a lifetime, but 'nice' did cover it. "It just... It can't happen again."

Some of the hurt in her shone through as she said it. It was not the kiss she was walking away from. Not him either, not really. It was the idea that she might grow far too attached, and be relegated to a second option. To jealously watch him live a life with someone else and show up only when he felt like it, when it was convenient, when he wanted to prove some point. For all that they'd just met, Maea could so easily see it happen. For most of her life she'd thirsted for affection, attention, to be somewhat special to someone.

It was just too bad it made her vulnerable to making stupid mistakes like falling for the first guy to show up.

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

The mask of ice, one he’d seen so many times, it shatters within him and he can see the way this will go – after he’d admitted so much, told her so much about him and the arrangement with Phoebe and his life and a few deeper tidbits of information surrounding him that he hadn’t told anyone else. He’d never openly told anyone that his father had abused him, had never openly uttered the words out loud. And it frightens him, this hold that she has over him, the axe over his head should she wish to wield it.

But it softens when he turns to face her, after the cough had racked through his system, his gaze finding hers and the mask shifts, his own long gone, drifting further down the river under the face of the sun. He takes a shaky breath, turning to her fully once more, bold enough to take a step toward her but to keep the distance between them, however much he craves to break the distance, to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her again, to lay with her beneath the shade of the trees and watch the sun drift in the sky.

He doesn’t move in inch past that first step, watching her run a hand through her hair, away from her face – silken white strands that he can feel the touch of them ghostlike along his fingertips. He exhales when she says she didn’t hate it, that it was nice, that it can’t happen again. And he knows this, and he hates it. Hates the fact that he’d made the mistakes to lead up to this moment, to chain himself to the midwife with a terribly miserable future, when he could spend it anywhere else other than the dark dungeon of what his life’s become.

He wants nothing more than to go to her, to tell her everything would be okay. That she’d stay at the bar, with chaste quiet smiles sent to her, time set aside for her to train and teach her to wield weapons, and he clenches his jaw slightly with another shaky breath, closing off from her slightly as he folds his arms across his chest, beneath the flaming arrow over his heart, claws digging into the muscle there slightly. “It’s not your fault. Blame it on me.” He says quietly, defeated, looking away from her to Haai who watches the whole ordeal, keeping guard over Ludo’s rags.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

"No."

Such a simple word. It could contain many things. With all the secrets shared between them, it held an infinite number of meanings. No, don't close her out again. No, don't hate yourself for mistakes that could still be fixed. No, don't come closer... It could be anything, really. But Maea clarified as she shook her head, still smiling a bit sadly at him.

"I'm not going to blame you. It's not your fault. I could have stopped you at a hundred points, but I didn't. I... did not want to." A quirk of embarrassment at that admission. She tried to return the vulnerable honesty he'd showed her, and it left her cheeks red. Hands trembling.

"I don't want to hurt you, Sunjata. But... I don't want to hurt Phoebe either. Or myself... and the way things are right now, I can't see anything ending well if we get too close. So, let's... lets just be friends, alright?  Unless you decide you don't want that ring anymore. Maybe then we can talk. About other... things."

She indicated the black band around his finger. Though she'd tensed up when he took that step closer, wary as a doe sighted down an arrow, she gave him the benefit of the doubt and stood her ground. When he did not press his luck, she gave him a grateful little smile.

"All in all, it's been a good day, wouldn't you say? I had fun. Like you promised."

SUNJATA

i'm drowning in all these voices in the sea
and meeting all my vices in the ring

“No.” As it falls from her lips, he doesn’t look to her, unsure if he wants to know the answer to which part of this is the part she’s denying. He expects it to be all of it, the step granted toward her, the closing off from her that he does as his arms fold along her chest, the blame as it sets in deep and he internally scowls at the ring on his finger, the person back home he’d been attempting to avoid. No.

But he does look back at her with the desperation and sorrow clear along his face at the possibility of hurting her, of having never wanted or intended that, breaking ever so slightly as he focuses on her words that leave her lips. That she hadn’t wanted to stop him, and he hadn’t wanted to stop either, and how he curses internally at the predicament of how things were, caught up in a wash of uncertainty, breaking and ever so fleeting. What would it have been like to shift the course of his life so he didn’t agree to the wedding.

He had loved Phoebe once, long ago. But that part of him had become buried beneath the sand of the deepest ocean when this predicament fell upon them. And he’d tried, but somewhere he knew within that it wouldn’t work out. Because they never truly had. It was one thing or another that kept them close and kept them apart, and it should have remained that way. So when Maea says that she doesn’t want to hurt him, he can’t help but let his gaze linger on her — some sort of longing hidden beneath the rest.

A small nod is given when she suggests to remain friends, hoping he can contain himself enough for it to work. But the mention of whether he decides he doesn’t want the ring? Well, he looks at it then, fully looking at it, a heavy sigh sweeping over him at that. Hadn’t she heard him when he’d said he didn’t want it? Had never envisioned a life for himself that had him married to anyone? He frowns as he stares at the sapphire on his finger, wondering what would happen if he took it off. Wanting to try. “I’ve never wanted it.” He tells her hoarsely, honestly.

He looks back up to her then, his claws digging in still when she speaks, a quiet nod given as she says that she had fun, that he’d been successful in that venture of trying to get her to enjoy herself. But he can’t help but to ask, letting himself devour her with his gaze as though it were his last time. “Was that your first kiss?” He’s not sure why, but he wants to know.

so step inside, i ain't afraid to bleed
there ain't a casket strong enough for me

MAEA

He denied wanting it, yet it still remained on his finger. He said he didn't want the marriage, but clung to it like it was the only thing in the world that actually mattered. As if he could only live by the failure of something that was doomed to end before it ever begun.

"So you said."

Maea had heard his arguments, remembered them keenly but did not stress her own opinions again. It would do nothing to change his mind, probably only make him dig his heels in deeper. Like a stubborn sheep desperately clinging to a faded patch of grass, when the whole of the meadow waited beyond the hill. Her shrug was non-committal, leaving it entirely to him if the trinket would become the shackle to hold him back. Her eyes did move from the simple sapphire band to the river behind his back, a little meaningfully. The waters ran deep already, full of their secrets. Perhaps, it could hold more than that if he only wished it.

But she never voiced those thoughts, and wouldn't push him. Maea didn't like to make people choose, like there were only two truths to the world. All she offered was an option. An opportunity... and it was a far sight more than she'd ever extended to anyone else. It had been a very nice kiss. But friendship was good enough too, and might last longer than this fickle little flame.

Speaking of kisses, his question about it made her blush even deeper. Her gaze darted away, trailed erratically over everything but Sunjata as she fought to contain the embarrassment again. By some miracle she kept from squirming like the budding teen he made her feel, and nodded. "Was it that obvious?" she mumbled, if possible even more shy about it now than before she'd joined him in the water.