"Will You Still Be Here?"
Lord Maul x Reader
In which a tender moment is shared in the dark of night.
Beneath the pale impetus of the moons, the cast shadows grew peaceful and soft, dancing with the blue half-light of a clear night. Overhead, the canopies grew restless in the wind, leaves whistling in tune with the orchestra of night creatures. The silken curtains, sheer and light, adorned with a humble vine pattern, danced a quiet ballet just beyond the window, tickling the very edge of the bed in jest.
Inside, all was quiet, save for the hushed exhalations against the nape of your neck, arms tucked over and around you in a warm and protective display of affection, even in the depths of slumber. Here, in your safe space outside the looming, dreary walls of Janix, you and he simply existed. And while eventually he must return, right now, you contentedly existed alongside him.
You could sense him waking now, perhaps keenly feeling your restlessness as his eyes flickered open in a narrowed curiosity. In his loosened grasp, you turned at last to face him, a small smile tugging at your lips in turn. “What is it?” He muttered, words laced in weary worry, perhaps because he had come to expect danger. It always took him a while to remember where he was.
“Nothing at all,” you assured him in a whisper, and you lifted a hand to trace the tattoos on his chin in a familiar gesture of which he leaned into with a loving haste. With his cheek now at rest in your palm, through him you felt a deep, gravelly quake of a hum that portrayed a domestic happiness only you would ever see.
“If you are sure, my love,” he returned, the sharpened planes of his face hiding dense shadows in the low light as he pressed a tender kiss into the palm of your hand. He did not smile often, even with you, and that was the way it had always been. But tonight, you caught the slightest upturn in the corner of his lips as you drew a gentle path up each of his horns with your fingertip in ginger playfulness. “You tease me,” he rumbled, the ridge of his brow bent upward in a mischievous warning. Nevertheless, you continued a lazy route down to the cusp of his ear, knowingly drawing from him a full-bodied shiver that forced a shaky warning through clenched teeth, “dearest.” There was a long pause while he regained his composure, hand settling on your wrist in light restraint, “you know I will not resist if you continue, but I can feel that you are tired. What troubles you?”
To this, you couldn't help but to leer in small amusement, and then you cooed his name, coaxing his attention deeper, “Maul?”
He only hummed again in inquiry.
“When I wake in the morning, will you be here?” You asked, aware in every way that he would not be, but still longing for the day he would stay.
He thought for a moment, eyes rigid and unmoving, hand stilled against your wrist albeit in a gentler fashion, holding you in suspense as the militant look took hold over his features again. “We shall see, my love,” after the long quiet, there came the expected answer. And you accepted it, as expected.
Of course, you knew who he was and… what he was, and you too had once been part of that world and its demands. You always asked, regardless, but you were never disappointed, and you never pressed for more. So you drew an amused brow upwards, then touched your nose to his as the shreds of the aforementioned fatigue began to settle back into your eyelids, scouring them with the heavy, dull weight of the world. “We shall see,” you repeated.
He chuckled lovingly, and then tucked you into the infernal warmth of his bare chest where, in the deep echoing well of his two heartbeats, whispering “rest well, my one,” all the while he rested his chin atop your head, chasing after you into a comfortable sleep.