04-09-2017, 12:43 AM
Ruan
He was settled by her slow nod of agreement, drawn a silent step closer, and a knot in his chest slowly untangled and released. She spoke of loyalty not easily won, not easily lost or broken, and he was reminded how alike their spirits seemed to be. But she also mentioned the tensions in the Taiga, and he felt a pang of guilt at bringing her home to a place that perhaps was not stable for new eyes. She’d stayed though, and said she wasn’t leaving. That was comforting.
She mentioned all the changes happening, that he couldn’t let them make him colder, and he glanced away. It was eerie that she spoke of things nobody else should know about him. Like his distance, his coldness, his isolation. His state of unfeeling. The danger he could be if he let it consume him, if he gave in.
She brought his eyes back to her though, the genuine kindness in her voice tugging at him to focus on her alone. ”...and I will be beside you every step of the way.” He stared at her, into those brilliant, blue eyes, almost afraid to believe the strength of her words. She couldn’t know how much that would mean to him, to have that support. And he didn’t feel like he could tell her. Didn’t feel like it was right to, but perhaps in time he could say so. Then again, she seemed to be so in-tune with him, and maybe she already knew it or could sense it.
”You didn’t just save a stranger from the snow that night,” she continued with an impish sort of grin. He felt an amused smile turn his lips in response as he listened. ”You made a life long friend and ally.” A warmth budded and bloomed in his chest at those words, knowing she meant them and knowing how much they meant to him. He didn’t really have friends, never really had. He had his wife, his kids, but not friends. When he’d tried to make a friend.. Well, it hadn’t seemed to go over so well.
He’d always been hyper-aware of how near they were, careful not to reach out and touch her as he might do with any other of their home. But with her last words, until the day you say you don’t want me, I will never be far from your side, he found he couldn’t just stand there anymore. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped closer, reaching to lightly touch the curve of muscle in her neck, silently breathe in her scent. He felt an intuitive urge to do more, show more comfort and appreciation for this friendship and her words that buried so deeply into his soul… But it felt too strong, and he retreated from it, retreated from her one step, then two, three.
His gaze met hers again, held it steadily with his own. Thank you, Tyrna, he said quietly, unable to say more, unable to express how much it meant to him beyond that brief little touch of thanks. Hers was a friendship he could trust, he would cherish and respect. I should go, he admitted apologetically, but I’ll find you again soon. He gave her a weak, half-smile then turned away.
She mentioned all the changes happening, that he couldn’t let them make him colder, and he glanced away. It was eerie that she spoke of things nobody else should know about him. Like his distance, his coldness, his isolation. His state of unfeeling. The danger he could be if he let it consume him, if he gave in.
She brought his eyes back to her though, the genuine kindness in her voice tugging at him to focus on her alone. ”...and I will be beside you every step of the way.” He stared at her, into those brilliant, blue eyes, almost afraid to believe the strength of her words. She couldn’t know how much that would mean to him, to have that support. And he didn’t feel like he could tell her. Didn’t feel like it was right to, but perhaps in time he could say so. Then again, she seemed to be so in-tune with him, and maybe she already knew it or could sense it.
”You didn’t just save a stranger from the snow that night,” she continued with an impish sort of grin. He felt an amused smile turn his lips in response as he listened. ”You made a life long friend and ally.” A warmth budded and bloomed in his chest at those words, knowing she meant them and knowing how much they meant to him. He didn’t really have friends, never really had. He had his wife, his kids, but not friends. When he’d tried to make a friend.. Well, it hadn’t seemed to go over so well.
He’d always been hyper-aware of how near they were, careful not to reach out and touch her as he might do with any other of their home. But with her last words, until the day you say you don’t want me, I will never be far from your side, he found he couldn’t just stand there anymore. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped closer, reaching to lightly touch the curve of muscle in her neck, silently breathe in her scent. He felt an intuitive urge to do more, show more comfort and appreciation for this friendship and her words that buried so deeply into his soul… But it felt too strong, and he retreated from it, retreated from her one step, then two, three.
His gaze met hers again, held it steadily with his own. Thank you, Tyrna, he said quietly, unable to say more, unable to express how much it meant to him beyond that brief little touch of thanks. Hers was a friendship he could trust, he would cherish and respect. I should go, he admitted apologetically, but I’ll find you again soon. He gave her a weak, half-smile then turned away.
