Happiness is not an ideal of reason but of imagination
It was just so easy to be with her, to sit with her, no matter the form either of us took, no matter the topic of conversation. I was naïve, I knew it - I was always prone to seeing the good in people, to assuming everyone was inherently good, kind, well-meaning (like me?) On Earth, I did not have many relationships, but to those who caught my attention, I was quick to declare love, to seek out those deeper emotions, those intimate moments. I had been burned, admittedly to my past behaviour, which had caused me to hesitate my outright declarations of love - but it hardly stopped the emotions themselves from forming within me.
Goddamnit, I didn't love her already, did I?
Wouldn't fucking surprise me. Ugh.
(To be clear, I am annoyed at myself.)
(To be absolutely, perfectly certain, I am pretty sure I am smitten already.)
(Goddamnit!)
I listen, to both the silence as it stretches out between us, and then her words. There is hesitation, I heard it, felt it, but practiced patience, maintaining a calm and welcoming demeanour - and also hoping to reassure her that I did not mind if she did not want to share. It was her story to tell, and while I welcomed it, I did not want to force it from her if she was not fully prepared to retell her tales. But then she spoke, she shared and showed, and I obediently looked, mewing soft sounds of concern as she relived the painful memories.
She spoke of battles, of armour and more magic - wild magic?, like Jigano lectured about? Or different again? - and I absorbed it all, grateful that she would entrust me with this much. Of course her words stirred more questions within me, more desire to know all that I could about her, her past, her history - what made Kiada the Kia I was coming to know and like.
Finally, I felt like I had lingered in this shift for long enough, and so I stepped out of her lap, arching my back and headbutting her shoulder on my way out, of course. I let the form I was born into fill me, I return to my tall, lanky (but slowly filling in with muscly bulk) form. I am squatting next to her, and I settle quickly on the ground, surprised at how warm our little "spar" (if you can call it that) has made me. I aim to sit close to her, right by her side, reaching an arm along her shoulders in an embrace, tracing the X as my hand makes its way across her nape.
'Does it cause any pain, now?' I ask softly, restraining the hoard of other questions that were burning within me, wanting to know so much more - but patiently holding my tongue, that she might share when her trust in me grows.
Goddamnit, I didn't love her already, did I?
Wouldn't fucking surprise me. Ugh.
(To be clear, I am annoyed at myself.)
(To be absolutely, perfectly certain, I am pretty sure I am smitten already.)
(Goddamnit!)
I listen, to both the silence as it stretches out between us, and then her words. There is hesitation, I heard it, felt it, but practiced patience, maintaining a calm and welcoming demeanour - and also hoping to reassure her that I did not mind if she did not want to share. It was her story to tell, and while I welcomed it, I did not want to force it from her if she was not fully prepared to retell her tales. But then she spoke, she shared and showed, and I obediently looked, mewing soft sounds of concern as she relived the painful memories.
She spoke of battles, of armour and more magic - wild magic?, like Jigano lectured about? Or different again? - and I absorbed it all, grateful that she would entrust me with this much. Of course her words stirred more questions within me, more desire to know all that I could about her, her past, her history - what made Kiada the Kia I was coming to know and like.
Finally, I felt like I had lingered in this shift for long enough, and so I stepped out of her lap, arching my back and headbutting her shoulder on my way out, of course. I let the form I was born into fill me, I return to my tall, lanky (but slowly filling in with muscly bulk) form. I am squatting next to her, and I settle quickly on the ground, surprised at how warm our little "spar" (if you can call it that) has made me. I aim to sit close to her, right by her side, reaching an arm along her shoulders in an embrace, tracing the X as my hand makes its way across her nape.
'Does it cause any pain, now?' I ask softly, restraining the hoard of other questions that were burning within me, wanting to know so much more - but patiently holding my tongue, that she might share when her trust in me grows.
CHULANE
