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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    Moonbeam; arrya
    #11
    Oh, no. He broke her.

    Faded brown eyes watched with dismay as the emotions took over her face; watering her eyes, trembling her lip. This was not good. He was most definitely the worst person to be here. Nobody ever cried at him, around him. What the hell was he supposed to do? He tentatively smiled back at her as she looked up at him, though it looked more like a grimace. He'd teased and called himself the child's uncle, and now here she was with that look in her eye. He swallowed as she told him she'd like that, him as an uncle of sorts, and that the child didn't really have a whole lot of family.

    Family. No, he didn't either, for that matter. They were dead now, thanks to him.

    She rubbed her pretty face against his shoulder just as he was about to detach himself from her, and instead he froze. His eyes darkened as he battle natural instinct to want to press into her, soak in her body heat as if it were his own. He'd never really had to steady himself before; nobody ever got near enough to touch him. In the past, they'd gone out of their way to avoid him, in fact. This new life was strange, so much to adjust to. Women touching him for one. People actually talking to him. And her sass-mouth; that was certainly unique.

    He couldn't help but tune her out a little, brown eyes heating to liquid gold as he stared down at her. Control. So much control. He'd been taught that. Why couldn't he remember any of it when her face swept back into its devious little smirk? Her words filter though a fog: you seem to like my smart mouth well enough. Maybe that'd be a point in the kid's favor, huh, precious?
    He supposed she was right. He did like that mouth.
    Uh oh. Not good. All he could do was stare at her lips while his mind screamed mayday! mayday! and was it just him, or were they getting closer?

    Knock it off.

    He could nearly feel the burn in his eyes when he closed them. A little leaning was all it took to touch his face to hers, and he stayed that way as he grappled with his composure. Emotionless had always been so easy, so simple. So natural. She was terrible for him.

    He sighed and pulled away. Sad regret caused him to avoid her gaze. What now? Apologize? Pretend it didn't happen? No, it definitely happened. He'd nearly kissed her. There was no way she'd ever let him near her again. She wasn't his, she never would be. Nobody would be. So why was he so drawn to her? He forced himself to meet her eyes so that she'd know he meant it when he said he was Sorry.

    I'm sorry, Arrya.
    It won't happen again.


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    #12
    You've got a heart as loud as lions, so why let your voice be tamed?
    Welp. I broke him. He looks awkward as fuck, all uncomfortable and wincy, grimacing at my weepy bullshit. Can’t say I blame him, either. I’m pretty damn uncomfortable with all this emotional shit too, I just can’t quite seem to get my stupid self under control. Damn hormones. He swallows hard, and freezes up when I borrow his big dumb shoulder to wipe away my tears. I’d mutter an apology and scurry away to go dig a hole deep enough to bury myself ‘til I can get my goddamn shit together and not be a teary-eyed mess, but that’s pretty much not gonna happen ‘til the kid pops out and then...well let’s be real, a while after that, fine, whatever. Kids make me squishy.

    I get a little caught up in my usual combination of mouthing off and quietly berating myself, so that slo-o-o-ow lean in, and then the touch of his face against mine, it’s kind of unexpected. And. Um. Weird? I do a little freezing up myself, because I have no goddamn idea how to react to that. Friendly comforting? Doesn’t feel like it, not exactly. Kind of brings to mind that little not-quite-kiss from...what, last year? Maybe it’s just that he’s not from here and his customs are a little different?

    It’s not ‘til he pulls back and apologizes that I realize I’m a fucking idiot.

    He’s looking into my eyes and promising it won’t happen again when realization hits me like a kick in the chest. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Not again. I’m shit at interacting with women, and apparently just as goddamn terrible at men, because all I motherfucking wanted was a friend and--god is he going to leave too now? That’s how this works, right? Things get all damn complicated and feely and I’m the blind idiot all oblivious and then it’s too goddamn late to fix it and--no, but breathe, okay? This isn’t Rhory all over again. I like Kade. He’s fun, he banters back and puts up with my sass, and he wants to be my squishy little moonbeam’s uncle. It would fucking suck losing him, and I’d probably curl up next to Rhory and cry, but he doesn’t love me like Rhory did then, that’d be fucking dumb of him.

    Right? Right. “Good. It...I mean, it can’t. I’m not...” Fuck, words, words are hard. “I’m with Rhory. If I did anything to...fuck, give you the wrong impression, or...I’m sorry. I can be your friend, if you still want, and I hope you do but if you can’t I will understand that, but that’s all. That’s all I can be. I would never hurt him, and I don’t...I’m not the kind of girl who...fuck.”

    Fuck, fuck, fuck.

    “Did I do something?” I ask, searching his eyes for an answer, because I can’t...I don’t exactly have a lot of friends, and I can’t really handle losing them because--because what, emotions get complicated? God, I clearly have the emotional intelligence of a goddamn turnip, because I didn’t see this coming. Even after everything with Rhory.

    “Because I can stop, if I know. I like you, and it’d suck to lose you as a friend because I did something stupid. Was it the crying? No wait, that’s a dumb question, crying isn’t attractive, fuck. Uh.” My brow furrows and I try, I really do, to come up with any goddamn thing I’ve done that might have...no but really, what could he possibly find attractive here? I smart mouth him, I’m the size of a bloated whale carcass about to burst open all over the beach, I’m a scruffy, shaggy little nothing of a mare with more sass than sense and I straight up do not understand--ugh.

    I shake my head, baffled and just generally miserable with the whole situation. Sorry, baby, Mommy might’ve fucked up that whole uncle thing for you, though I have no idea how. Don’t hate me, okay? I’ll...I’ll think of something. I promise. You won’t be lonely, don’t worry.
    You've got the light to fight the shadows, so stop hiding it away.
    Reply
    #13
    Oh, God. He'd messed up bad this time. Real bad.

    He'd pulled back and her eyes were an entire canvas of just how badly he'd screwed up. Shaky confusion and then a slow swirl into something glassy and fragile. She soldiered up a bit and told him good, she couldn't be anything more to him because she had her man. All things he knew and yet each word she added to it only cut him deeper. He wished he could make her stop talking, he didn't need to hear it. He already knew how foolish he'd been. How out of line.

    It wouldn't happen again.

    His blood was running cold and he itched to get the hell out of here. Just leave. He couldn't even look at her anymore when she asked if she did anything to cause it. Like it was her fault he was just an idiot. And that deep searching in her eyes turned his gaze away instantly, anywhere but at her. Such a fool. Why the hell did he have to mess up everything he touched?

    And then she wanted him to tell her why. So she could stop doing whatever it was. His head bowed in a semblance of defeat. Seriously, she was blaming herself? He was the screw-up, not her. Besides, she couldn't just stop being who she was. And hell, maybe he didn't even really feel anything. Maybe it was just one of those stupid moments where something insane just felt right. God, he hoped it was that.

    He stiffened when she said it would suck to lose him as a friend, -a friend? did he have any of those?-, and he pinned her with a hard stare. She thought he'd just leave and stop talking to her? Stop seeing her? Avoid her because it may hurt? Did it?
    As though he were some coward.

    I run from nothing, he ground out darkly, gritting his teeth. Nearly nose to nose with her, he locked her in a pointed stare. He would never allow her to think him so weak. He'd never allow her to think he'd leave her side if she ever wanted him there. Not for anything. He was no coward. He would not run.

    The glowing embers remained in his eyes though his face softened. His eyes slid down her face again, admiring everything she was. Who she was. All her nonsensical ramblings, her nearly self-destructive emotions. God, and that sweet scent of her that made his mouth water. Gently, he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes again. Damn him if he didn't see a hint of fear in there, that she might lose him. Don't let me hallucinate this.

    That, right there, he said softly, thinking on all her smart ass jibes, her deep emotions she shared so openly with him. That's why. You are why. And I never want you to change it. Her blunt honesty. Her drive to understand things and solve them if she could. Those raw emotions.

    He sighed quietly and straightened, shoulders just a little slumped and eyes on the ground. When she should shun him, demand he never talk to her again, she stood there afraid he'd run off and avoid her. Afraid he'd try to escape his feelings. He was the Guardian, the warrior, the bodyguard. Emotions were felt, accepted, and buried deep. Death was the only thing he escaped, and that only a temporary dance.

    It won't happen again Arrya.
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    #14
    You've got a heart as loud as lions, so why let your voice be tamed?
    Ugh, he can’t even look at me, fuck, he’s gonna bolt. I can’t blame him, it’s not fair to expect him to stick around when things just got complicated and I mean we’re friends, right, but he’s only known me for...like a year...and maybe that’s expendable. Maybe I’m expendable, when being around me is...complicated, whatever, it’s fine, I’ll be fine. I’m bracing myself for goodbye and getting ready to not fucking cry ‘til I get wrapped up in Rhory’s arms and can fall apart in peace. And the ache in my chest has little moonbeam squirming about, stirring in silent protest at the -- well probably more at the way I’m tensed up, stomach clenched, waiting for the blow, but it feels like the kid’s upset that I’m upset, and I’ll take what I can get right now.

    But then. When I’m trying to be all understanding and kind of lying through my teeth that it’d be okay if he wanted to leave and not talk to me anymore, instead of taking the out I’m offering him, he finally meets my eyes. Hell, he stares right into me, jaw clenched, right in my face as he growls, “I run from nothing.”

    Not quite the blow I was expecting, but it still hits me right in the chest, followed by this inexplicable whoosh of calm that just washes right over me, chasing away the fear and the sadness, relaxing all those tensed up muscles little squish was protesting. My heart does a funny little thump thump in my chest, a fluttery little beat that’s not quite on rhythm, and I nod. “Okay.” He’s not going anywhere. Okay. Good.

    There’s still fire in his eyes even as he’s tilting my chin up to look at him, to make damn sure I’m looking back when he tells me he doesn’t want me to change anything. My breath catches in my throat, and all I can do is nod. “Okay.” It’s softer this time, barely above a whisper, and even as he sighs and looks away my eyes are locked on him. He’s really staying. He reassures me one more time that it won’t happen again, and I can’t quite stop myself from taking a step closer, reaching out to bump my nose gently against his shoulder.

    “I know,” I murmur, looking up at him and taking a deep breath as I nod again. “I trust you.”

    And then, to make things easier on both of us, I take a step back and coax my face into a sassy grin. “Well since you’re not running away, I’ll make sure this squishy little moonbeam of mine” because fuck it, he’s heard the nickname often enough that I’ve given up pretending “drives you far crazier than I do. You still sure you want to be its Uncle Kade?” And I make damn sure that last question is said with a sassy grin, not the last echoes of the fear he’s done so much to chase away already.
    You've got the light to fight the shadows, so stop hiding it away.
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    #15

    She said Okay so softly, but she at least seemed to get the point. He wasn't going anywhere. He was no coward to run from this, whatever it was. Or whatever it wasn't. The second time she said was even softer, nearly a whisper, and his stupid eyes fell to her lips again. There was a pain in his chest he wasn't used to and, completely randomly, he thought of Josie. He still hadn't seen her. Would it hurt her in this same way to see him so close to someone else? No, probably not. They were not together. But, then, neither were he and Arrya.

    Damn, he was a mess.

    She bumped her nose against him when he dropped his gaze, and he lashed out in a sharp, playful little nip. Damn woman always touching me.  Even those simple little nudges felt good. And good was clearly bad. He didn't have to worry that she'd do it again though, as she backed away a little. One of those crooked grins of hers lit her face. He smirked knowingly when she called the child Moonbeam again. So cute. Then she asked if he was sure he wanted to be Uncle Kade. Of course, he was sure.

    I'm not going anywhere, he said firmly, though he kept the grin glued in place. Hard eyes seemed to dare her to question him again, even playfully.

    I've kept you a while.. Should you be returning to your. Man? That wasn't so hard to say. Seriously. It was only a word, after all. Just entirely awkward on his tongue for some reason, and sent a sharp chill through his neck and shoulders. Perhaps he should be back to searching for Josie again anyway. They weren't mates, if he could ever truly be one for anyone, but he still worried for her safety. And her happiness.
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    #16
    You've got a heart as loud as lions, so why let your voice be tamed?
    That playful little nip was kind of adorable. I snort and nip right back, snapping my teeth shut on the air just shy of his skin, huffing out an amused breath as I pull away and put that distance between us. And his lips twist into a teasing grin at my use of baby’s squishy, mushy, happy little nickname, just like I expected. Good man, Still, even if the ground feels a little more solid as we drift back to familiar footing, I need to hear the words. More than I would have expected, really, but...but I don’t have a whole lot of people left in my life. I’ve lost so goddamn many over the years, and I really fucking like this one, okay? So I don’t quite manage to relax until he speaks again.

    “I’m not going anywhere.”

    Just like my sassy grin is hiding a whole lot of unspoken please don’t leave me, there’s a serious solemnity to his words despite that damn smirk lingering on his face. And if my eyes shine a little brighter, it’s damn well not tears, okay? Or at least not ones that will fall. A smile lights up my face, all trace of sass gone even if only for a moment, and I nod. “Good. I’m really fucking glad to hear that. Princess.” Okay, so it lasted all of half a second. I couldn’t quite keep what has somehow become a warped little term of endearment from slipping out, or my lips from quirking in amusement. Which is way easier better than being all teary-eyed, that’s for damn sure.

    And now that he’s chased away the last traces of fear that he’ll vanish into the night and I’ll never see him again, it’s easy to take that soft little suggestion that maybe I should waddle my way on home to Rhory at face value. Or at least mostly at face value. He’s not wrong, and maybe a little time to process things will be good for both of us. “Probably should, yeah. I wouldn’t want him to worry, and baby here is jonesing for some cuddle time. Like always. Get ready,” I add, an extra dash of mischief in my grin. “I’m pretty sure this one’s gonna be allllll up in your space. Snuggly, wiggly little thing, just you wait and see. And uncles are right at the top of the cuddle list.”

    With a toss of my head and a swish of my tail I turn to leave. Not quite as satisfying as another bump of my shoulder against his, or a cozy little nudge with my nose, but it’ll have to do. “Not long now! Better savor your quiet time while you’ve got it, precious, because it’ll be a hell of a lot harder to come by soon.” Normally I’d make some sassy remark about not staring to hard at my enormous ass as I waddle away, but it feels a little inappropriate at the moment and sometimes I can have at least a tiny bit of tact. I snort and shake my head, and throw a quick little, “kiss kiss” over my shoulder before dragging my very, very pregnant self on home to my man. Not that that’s a whole hell of a lot better, but there’s only so much restraint I can manage in one day, okay? Best I could do.
    You've got the light to fight the shadows, so stop hiding it away.
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