She does not think of him in the same way he thinks of her, does not remember what he does from that night together. She remembers him soft and kind - remembers how well he had tried to hide that from her right up until she had curled against his chest and he had held her so close. But there were no warning bells, no fireworks lighting her veins, no epiphanies to be undone by. She remembers warmth and safety and finding solace in the strong curve of his neck around her.
It is only fitting that she finds him again when it is what she craves most.
But he has changed, she thinks, as the sand rises like a tide up over his legs, further to hide the smooth dark of his body. He is almost so changed she does not recognize him, nearly pauses and turns to give this stranger room on their shared path. But he claims her with a word, a name - hers, and those dark, bruised eyes lift to a face she knows from a memory. "Fenris." She says, and the shadows writhe across her body, thin snakes abused by the light that swells in surprise to see him, in the soft half-smile that curves across her lips.
Remembering him is hard though, strikes an ache in her chest that she cannot understand, a pain that dims the light from her skin again.
Why put yourself in danger’s path?
Have I, are you dangerous?
I am, but not in the way you appear to know.
Dovev, she remembers, feels the sting of the wound he had torn into her neck. It was still fresh when Fenris found her that night in the forest, still new and frightening. If only he knew what she thought of Dovev now. Maybe it is best he does not. The scar is still there where he left it, healed pink and smooth, gray at the edges where the blue and white hairs thicken.
She blinks, winces at the way something writhes inside her, something dark and unnameable that traces a weariness in her brow that even sleep cannot touch. "Too long, I think." And her words are soft and silver, etched in the light she cannot seem to hold onto anymore. But she is smiling again at his nickname for her, little bird, he had called her. It didn't matter that it didn't suit her at all - no wings, no feathers, no beak to speak of. But it rings of a fondness, one he should have hidden deeper if he did not want her to see it, and she is quick to close the distance between them, touch her nose so softly to the side of his jaw in greeting.
“Are you still someone worth trusting, Fenris?” Just a whisper, nothing more.
@[laura]