Hotaru
nothing's fair in love and war
As a creature of self-indulgence, relaxation is a realm she feels comfortable in opening up for him. Guiding him. A form of healing in itself; no knitting of wounds, but an unwinding of tension, a healing of drained pools of energy, a removal of aches that are carried until they are nearly forgotten - inconsequential compared to more grievous lacerations. This is what she offers him. Though she cannot see his face, she can read the tense curiosity in the half-there tension of his shoulders, the tilt of his head. But he does not move away, and even goes so far as to affirm the strength she uses on him. Only then does he begin to melt by increments, and she watches the play of muscles uncoiling in pleased fascination. Eager but not impatient to see him fully relaxed. His question isn’t unexpected, though she doesn’t answer for a moment, using her knuckles to begin small rotations in the muscles of his lower back, deepening the pressure and working below the surface as she considers her answer.
“Caido wasn’t the first place I landed after Helovia was destroyed. I fell through many portals. Each land was different, and the time I spent varied. Hours, weeks, years...” Never able to relax, always aware it could be taken away at a moments notice. Never growing close to anyone. Constantly searching for her family, for a single soul that had gone through the original portal with her as Kisamoa destroyed their world. She hadn’t - not until Caido. “I was never much of a healer in the traditional sense. But bodies...well, I knew those well enough. I knew where to aim to hurt, disable, kill; from there, it was easy to learn the opposite.” Slowly her hands traverse to his hips, focusing on the joints - points of collective pain for so many. Hotaru doesn’t venture too far, dipping scantly beneath the hem of his shorts and around his sides only to trace the ligaments there. “Plus...well. It was...nice, to be able to touch people so unreservedly. I was so alone in those years. So lost. I could not afford to let anyone touch me, but at least I could lay my hands on someone else.” Her voice falls softly, vulnerable and open in a way she is scarcely capable of doing with anyone outside of Deimos. Even now, only because she is not subjected to his piercing gaze.
