oh, deliver us.

[sanpatron]

" No idea if this was a thing from everyone's respective universe, but I think we should bring back dueling. Think about it, what's a better way to settle arguments than by putting your own life on the line! Are you bold enough to theoretically die on this hill, or are you that big of a coward that you'll easily admit defeat in the face of your opponent, and the public at large. "

[exousiate]

“It is not uncommon, whether for prestige, knowledge or territory disputes. But you will not find many modern mages choosing to reveal their craft in broad daylight, they find it more comfortable to seek the night for their activities.”

[animasend]

for a split second, she wonders if she did it wrong. that even with all the world's knowledge at her fingertips, she messed up a simple pun. the silence is almost deafening but just as she is about to defend her choice of words, he laughs. back then, there was always that quiet fear that such sounds were mere mockery, which often kept her from even allowing herself to have fun. now, she knows it's innocent. genuine. many times he had told her he never thought of her the way her fears told her. one of many quiet regrets she has.

still, that hardly stops her cheeks from flushing a deep crimson, the color blooming to her ears as the distance is crossed.

not even her hat is a saving grace, the pout returning to her lips in some effort to stop a smile. how her body relaxes immediately in his arms, hands finding that all too familiar place against his shoulders with a sigh that only said content. almost like back then but not quite. she wishes she had done this back then– instead of shrinking away at the sheer weight of her feelings.

it probably would've been like this.

"Always. For you, at least." it took far too long for her to allow herself to be selfish but the risk? more than worth it. one hand slips closer, enough to brush her thumb against the edge of his jaw. " I know that now. I wasn't too sure then or even if you would want to find me. Better to stand and wait like a fool than leave because I was too worried to think rationally."

[exousiate]

if he were to share his rather unbiased opinion, it is not reasonable. being selfish for him is not what he is used to, and he cannot claim that it has been the source of much happiness... until they met. some would say parallel lines should never cross, but how can he agree with that? even if his life had remained clear of any doubts, it would have been no different than choosing oblivion.

there are many things he has learned to love, many things he will continue to resent, many things he will never find answers for. he has accepted it, no matter how much his heart carries that anguish even after the passing of years. no forgiveness will ease the burden, it weights as it should. his footsteps will disappear into the bleached earth but only when his own promises have been fulfilled.

it was never a choice at all. he would rather know grief than be deprived of the joy of ever having.

but his attention to returns to marie, leaning closer when her thumb reaches his jaw. he closes his eyes momentarily, offering his cheek to brush back before deciding it is not enough. he will let her forget for much longer what happened in this place, but it does not mean he will contain his own longing.

“If I gave you the impression long before I did it without a reason, then I was the fool.” his hands lower her, his mouth reaching for her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose and then, he lingers into an unspeakable softness when his lips find hers. “I would rather be again, if it spares you from believing it.”

[animasend]

it's convincing enough to her. she doesn't suspect anything, instead her expression shifting to disbelief at his words.

to some, it would be laughable at how easily she's convinced, calling it foolish or pure naivety. the truth of the matter is that she trusts him. she always has and nothing that's transpired has changed that. and so what if he's merely waiting for the right moment to strike? when she suspects it the least and all he has to do is say one sentence to make her trip over her own thoughts?

and honestly, she likes what he makes her feel. even if sometimes the sheer embarrassment is enough to make her want to crawl under the covers and hide for days.

"I saw no reason to move. What if I did and you couldn't find me? Or there was some–" words come to a halt as what flew over her head comes back around to metaphorically hit her. silence is what he gets at first, evident in how she's battling between giving into laughter or asking what cheap joke book he got that from. the common phrase is if you don't have anything nice to say then don't say it at all. tempting.

and then there's the third choice, the one she settles for with a straight of a face as she can muster. " That'd make them shellfish. "

[exousiate]

the pause is long. so long that the seagulls can be heard in the distance, without any care about their day. except, him? he is staring with the most blank expression before temptatively turning to the side and then, at the sound of the waves hitting the shore, there is a laugh. it is nearly contained within his closed mouth but then, his shoulders shake and shake and shake until his mouth opens with teeth full on display and the laughter doesn't stop.

and it genuinely does not, as he comes closer with the intention of eliminating any distance from them. his hands are gentle when he lifts her up, eyes softening without hesitation, because once more she has surprised him.

“Were you? Shellfish?” he nuzzles her nose with his, a hint of laughter still roaming in the air. a part of him wants to move the hat away, but his hands remain firm against her, refusing to let go. no matter how much he wants to remind her why she did what she did a lifetime ago in this beach, he would always prefer her to be in his arms.

but he has not answered her question, despite how it is meant to distract him. “I would have found you. Even if you had left.”

[animasend]

she needs neither clairvoyance nor her omniscient sight to know that he's indulging her. it's a habit from the old days, one he never quite grew out of– no matter how much everything changed. if one asked, she would say that it wasn't fair to him. he carried more weight than he deserved to, refusing to put the burden of memory down. she would rather he rest. everything has already been settled and sometimes she wonders what he'll think of her decision when that time comes for him but that's a problem for later. for now, her priority is him.

and what she can do to ease his burden is little more than this: living like real people do. the normal, mundane pace of life, as if they were like any other couple. for all goetia says, for all of how he carries himself, he was more human than any could know. or maybe they do know and just refuse to accept that it was possible. that someone with stained hands was capable of gentleness.

the rough edges and callouses would fool anyone else but she has always found them warm. kind. afraid. how could she not love them?

"I meant darker without it being night." lips purse for a moment, gaze peeking at him with intent. " And I would again. I also told you that if any crabs get to your toes, not to come crying to me." and here, in this pause, she can't help but to laugh softly behind her hand. " Truth be told, I almost wish one hand. It would've been fun to see."

[exousiate]

he nearly sends a glance with a raised eyebrow, but that would be far too simple. what would be the point in cutting through all her argument to earn a brief moment of satisfaction? no, he has no qualms into playing along for much longer. it is not the first time, and neither it will be his last. the difference in behavior from his past self is nearly insulting, but marie likely finds it endearing while he wonders when calculation became sentimentality.

not that finding the answer changes how he feels. romani would have smiled like a fool and asked when did it happen and goetia, no matter how much he changes in appearance or form, would have been incapable of denying such mere wish. perhaps it is a weakness to be incapable of turning away from those he loves. it is still what he does because anything that brings a smile from marie is a miracle.

if he were still his old self, he would be baffled at how a laugh could make him want to grant her anything.

“They would have had to share. Or did you forget you stood there shell-shocked?” he does a contemplative hum as if it were difficult to remember. “I left you for a while to find my shoes and certain someone had not moved an inch.”

[animasend]

if one were to assume that, after all this time, she wouldn't be so easily swayed by his words then they wpuld be very, very wrong. particularly when said words were her own echoed back. he's this terrible sort of happiness, cutting right through to the heart. not that there existed much of any wall between them anymore. will she ever get used to it? no, never.

and yet that was one of the few things she looked forwards to.

"That's where you're wrong. I make it a habit to remember everything when it comes to you. " no, that wasn't what he meant, but were she to let it slip, she would never hear the end of it. because yes, the events of that night are quite clear in her mind and the reason why her cheeks grow hotter with every passing second. her head dips, hat obscuring her face from view. will she ever be able to think of herself from the past and not wish to hide? probably not. there were many things she wished she had done that night and it all coming to rush at her now was not....ideal.

but she must save face. clearing her throat, straightening her posture a bit too abruptly, olga marie behaves as if she's not fighting off the embarrassment. " A-Anyways, I wasn't talking about me. I meant the place! This doesn't even look like the right pier." and she quickly moves forward a bit, glaring at the wood as if it personally offended her. " It was darker. Much darker!"

[exousiate]

there it is. he almost wants to apologize for everything she goes through to show how unaffected she is but that would make him a hypocrite. they may share the horrible habit of trying to alleviate the burden for each other's benefit when it comes to painful truth, and it has an alarming rate of success. however, not here. not when it is an unique sort of happiness be so vulnerable towards another.

if there is an opportunity to tease, it happens.

that said, it would be far too simple. predictable, even. she has seen through all sorts of disguises and not batted an eyelash; and if he were honest, anyone else would have received the slightest of glares for daring to see where he does not permit it. but with marie? oh, he is nothing more than a fool. he will pretend to turn his eyes away and carry along, letting her see what lies underneath his soft appearance and gentle eyes.

so, he plays along. it is not any different from a particular day between what appears to be a young couple: her pointing at the pier and him nodding as if he believes her proof without any doubt.

“It was supposed to be darker.” how would they see the fireworks otherwise? he continues patiently, with a deliberate short hum. any longer, and she'll suspect him. “I stood nearby and you scolded me for my footwear. The lack of it, that is.”

[animasend]

" And that's why you're staring?" sometimes she wished she could still see the colors. as much of a headache it was, it had proven to be quite useful. but she recognizes the humor, curiousity forming at just what could be so funny. he talks of fireworks and for a moment, she's about to correct him that it's still a few months away until that happens. but then she connects the dots.

even if everything was back in place, her mind still needed those few extra moments to sort through it all. to pluck the happy from the misery, separate the unique scenery from the blurred sight of blinding overhead lights. she turns to her left and then to her right, surveying the area, before fixing him with a look that said i don't believe that.

" Are you sure? It all looks the same to me. Sand, water, piers. How do you know it's the exact spot we took a walk at before?" no defining marks, no possible path in the sand they would have taken then, no crabs milling about waiting to pinch at bare toes. " It was dark then, too. There's no way you remember the exact spot."

[exousiate]

the scepticism would worry him if he did not have an inkling why she was behaving that way. he closes his eyes momentarily and then, opens them slightly as if to say what can i do about it? all he is missing is tiping a non-existent hat and follow with a casual comment, wondering if she had enough sleep and whether they should stop to grab a cup of tea. even if he does not do it, he suspects that she will guess it.

half-open secrets are easier to acknowledge. although, in his experience, he has a penchant to offer the truth when he has verified that it will not cause him any disadvantage. and in this matter? he is the picture of an amenable person that has nothing to hide from his love.

“I remember everything about you.” unfortunate for her self-preservation, but he has always loved that weakness of hers too much. the pink that spreads her cheeks are why he can spend hours on her skin. “It is not my fault that you refuse to do the same.”

[animasend]

" Haven't I told you about not wearing shoes in the sand?" yes, it was years ago ( practically a lifetime for her ) but it still warranted repeating. yet it seemed that fell on deaf ears once more but unlike before, she contemplates using magecraft to fix the issue. knowing goetia, however, he'll just get rid of them within seconds. so she accepts defeat in this matter, choosing to continue following behind him. it was his idea to come to boardwalk in golden and given how pleasant the weather has been lately, she could see why. that and, well, sometimes she missed living just feet away from the beach, the water and the waves. (it was for the better. things were always too loud then.)

while the brim of her large hat provided enough protection from the sun, it also blocked half her view when looking down to make sure she didn't trip. so by the time olga looks up to see what got him to pause, she almost stumbles back. why? because he's staring. for how long? she has no idea, given her gaze was on the ground looking for shells.

his name is spoken once, twice, and then a third time with no response so she opts to waving a gloved hand gently in front of his face. "Did you end up frozen in place or something? " she laughs softly, teeth peeking from behind her lips. " Blink twice if you need me to save you."

@exousiate

[exousiate]

nostalgia is not the word for it. though some could say his nature was melancholic and it has led him to search for the reminders of what will never return, he finds more peace in the sound of the waves. chaldea had a never-ending storm while the temple was simply a mausoleum held by grudges and grief towards one man; golden was the first place he could consider home in this world. so perhaps the idea was merely an indulgence, to see the blue sky and feel the sand on his feet.

the black fens could not compete with the nature of the throne, but it was still calming for a rare restless night when he would wake up and feel the air was too much. too much, too much, too much — as if every part of himself wanted to remember a dream that never happened. on those early mornings, he simply laid down and stared at marie until her face was burned into his memory.

and now he finds himself into a scenario that happened a lifetime ago, wondering if he should do what marie did in embarrassment. it would not be the first time he has reminded her of what they can freely talk about.

“We've been here before,” he observes with a tilt of humor but it’s softened when he sees that familiar gesture from her mouth. “I had almost missed it with no fireworks in the sky.”

[starmament]

⠀⠀⠀⠀“Waiiit, so... If a utopia is a cautionary tale, doesn't that mean it's the dystopia all along ? If society gets all screwy trying to become perfect, the perfection's the problem, isn't it ? Jeez— I was expecting more of an 'if a tree falls and no one's around to hear it' kind of topic this close to exams...” 

[exousiate]

“Close, though not quite.” that said, it will serve as extra credit for whatever assignment has a lower grade. if only for the tree joke but he will not admit it until he sees his wife later. “Desires differ for each individual; a perfect society is the trap of another. Is the pursuit of perfection worth it for the misery that follows? Ergo, utopia and dystopia are philosophical mirrors. Remember that well for the exam.”

[sendousha]

Hearing that was a bit surprising — he seemed to be someone who had seen a lot, someone who had grown past letting emotions run rampant for the weariness they left afterward. Numb, but wise, from whatever he'd been through. Though a sliver of it brushed the moonlight, Aichi felt some hope he'd never reach such a point, not for real.

But like him, this man had someone who reached out, no matter how hard he pushed back, how tightly he might curl into refusal and isolation. Hopefully, they were able to meet one another at a middle ground and connect.

Truthfully, as spoken, it bothered him to be here, doing nothing, being powerless. Those were frustrations that bore through his brain and corroded sanity once before, a path walked once and retrodden — a cliff he was unwilling to drop over for a third time. To be utterly helpless was maddening, but simultaneously, it was so naturally human. A small being that could do little alone, but stand in infinite defiance and resistance, even if their body and spirit might burn out, should their resilience hold out. To overturn the impossible into a miracle.

As futile as it might feel, they couldn't rule out rebelling against the sky and making life here their own. Even a dream, even a sliver — he was sure there were those who had turned over even more incomprehensible odds. "That's all anyone needs: a reason. And we can hope they find that reason, and happiness in it. Life is so precious, we've been gifted something so special — some are unjustly arduous, the idea of someone suffering tremendously through their short time fills me is devastating.

But they still cling on, for that reason, and I'd cheer them on to seize it full, make it their own and become their happiest. From where they were born, here, wherever they may go. There's nowhere that reason and comfort can't reach".

[exousiate]

his first reaction is the subtle glint in his eyes, a brief hint of red flashing. how curious, if he was not particularly self-aware, he could nearly imagine it was mashu rather than a stranger. but the stranger's opinion brings up an argument that he can concurr. why is life so full of sorrow? the answer will always evade him, no matter how much he seeks the wisdom to answer it.

and what is happiness when everything that you know has been proven wrong? not once, but twice? it speaks of arrogance to ask the remains of a beast if life is precious, when self-termination was the choice nearly all of them took. now there is no more chorus of voices and no corpse to remember the king they mourned, there is only the last living piece of beast I.

he wonders if that man would have grieved them if his creation had perished first. there is no way for goetia to know, there is no way for him to ever know. all he can do is remember that laughing face and agree that the king became human and that dream unintentionally became what his magical ritual went through.

“It is because it is fleeting that people need to treasure it. Despite how, sometimes, the circumstances will go against them.” perhaps that is the most painful of truths, the inevitability from how life will not care about what one wants. it takes, it takes, and it takes without abandon or reason. his mouth falls into a thin line before his eyes soften in contemplation. “Cheering them on when the finish line is near is not simple either, but there is always something in watching it all from afar. Being born means that we will struggle but nonetheless strive for more.”

[exousiate]

"Ahoy-hoy, string bean. How've you been?"

the use of a label is unexpected, but by no means his raised eyebrow signifies displeasure. his face is rare to show any emotion openly, and though exceptions call to mind, he is more than used to not do so. as for the question... could be worse, could be better would be simple. but he does not want to dismiss any joy in his life. “I believe if I say well it would be a half-truth. I've been more prone to the brighter side these days.”

[animasend]

it's as if it's the first time all over again.

she's grown accustomed to his presence, used to it being a constant in her life day after day after day. it's a wonderful thing, even when she finds herself annoyed by him or in less than a stellar mood, she never wants him to stray too far away from her. and still such closeness is enough to have her cheeks erupt in pink, gaze averting from the way he says her name. as if she was once again younger, more naive and just trying to do what she thought was best.

it's familiar and the nostalgia that comes with it no longer stings like before. she has to bite her cheek to stop herself from smiling and giving it all away. so she'll feign innocence, casually digging the tip of her heel into the ground beneath her while her hands find his. pretending to be confused, she starts to walk backwards slowly, tugging him along while remaining as close as ever.

"Planning? I'm not planning anything. It was just an observation." as if he would believe it but it's a half-truth. everything was already said and done, she just had to make sure it went according to her plan. if she remembered right, that flower wasn't too far away. " You're too suspicious." words murmured as she nuzzles her nose against his cheek, pulling back just enough to place a kiss agains his nose. " Just trust me, Goetia. Or will I have to blindfold you? "

[exousiate]

his first reaction is not skepticism, and it is not fondness. it's amusement that appears in the corner of his lips into something meant only for her eyes, an infuriating smirk that has gotten away with far worse. he has never had a problem into leaning closer when she moves away; the centimeters can be nonexistent, he still follows her like a man dying from thirst. his carefully put-together blank face is convenient into fooling anyone from his nature, but she can always see through it, even when his lips slide towards her ear.

“Would you not like that?” his voice lowers into a drawl, eyes half-lidded as he remains from over her shoulder. slowly, he retreats, careful to avoid her snow-white curls before his mind chooses to forget everything but her. “It'll have to wait.”

whether it happens or not, he does not mind as long as they are together. holidays come and go without any intent to stop, and time is never kind enough but that is simply life. sometimes he wishes it would, except he has begun to accept it as what it means to be human. and though he has never repeated it, he had wanted to see her grow old.

his eyes return to their usual calm, but they immediately soften when he looks at her again. with a tilt to the side, he presses her hand on his own as his smile returns with the same gentleness from earlier. “Where do you want to go?”

[animasend]

she leans into the kiss, something that comes as natural as breathing. her hand squeezes his that trembles and she does not need to look to see that unshed tears gather. before, they were such a rare sight and even if they weren't from sorrow, it is still a sight that makes her heart ache. she offers a wave as the two make their way back to their parents, gaze lingering on their tiny forms. it has barely been two days since she saw them but it takes more than known for her to turn her eyes away, pulling him along with her.

" A piece of orange cake covered in chocolate. It was a little sweet when they asked me to try it in front of them, but I couldn't say that. They looked too happy. Instead of a hug, they wanted to float like before. I was so scared I'd drop them that I didn't go any higher than a foot." it was a different kind of fear than any she's felt before, but their bright laughter more than made up for it.

her gaze lifts up to the sky once back in the normal city, head tilting in thought. a few seconds pass before she seems content. "We have some time before it rains so let's walk back." maybe he'll get the feeling back in his legs and it'll give her time to give the next part of his gift. and she finds that she cannot help herself, the corner of her mouth curling into a grin. " Besides, I don't want you breathless just yet."

[exousiate]

and who was responsible for it? he chooses to leave the accusation hanging in the air; but the blank stare in response lingers with narrowed eyes before he sighs softly. from a stranger's perspective, his face is devoid of feeling but his gaze softens and a small smile appears when he looks at her again. amber eyes show an infinite array of emotions until they settle into curiosity.

“What are you planning?” he asks, leaning down to see her better. without any obvious attempt, the words escape in the same tone when her name, the one from when their days were carried amidst the hallways and the never-ending snow. it happens more often now, like breathing. “Marie.”

what he means is: olga marie. but the more sentimental part of himself wants to say olga, in the same tenderness that she brings when he sees her smiling. for now, he raises an eyebrow and presses his nose against hers, peach-colored bangs brushing in the same way leaves from a tree branch fall with the wind. the corner of her mouth is distracting, and though he wants nothing more than press his own, the rain is not tempting for today.

but walking with her whether the downpour happens or not would be worth it.

[animasend]

she offers nothing back but another hum, acknowledging his words and all that goes unsaid. despite the fact that they were adopted in this what if, that wouldn't be the first assumption if one were to meet them. her relationship with her other self differs far more than his, but that hardly mattered in the long run, for those tiny faces were what mattered more. a common thread that, in this city, surpassed mere dreams.

her grip never lessens, careful in taking him to meet them halfway. their laughter soon joins the ambiance of the city as the gap closes and to make this easier for him, she helps him settle to one knee. her hand slips from his waist to curl around his arm, hand finding his again as her head settles against his shoulder. a silent pillar to ease the ache that gnaws at him, a grief that will never quite go away. it is human and she never faults him for it. they are merely two souls, trying to do like real people do, no matter how scary it is.

so she watches as the two twins beam as they hand over their cards, not too unlike the one he received on his birthday. her hand tightens around his as they next offer the goodies– some candy hearts and their attempt at chocolate scones. her gaze lifts to observe him silently as they wish him a happy valentine's and as she finally lifts her head, pulling but an inch away, they ask their question to him with one little word: hug?

[exousiate]

his first thought after praising them for the sweets, more so the scones made of chocolate, is that they were truly so little. he struggles to remember if all of them were, despite the fact that it was more than possible. reminiscing about the past with clear eyes and no lesser amount of guilt is not simple but he chooses to push it aside for a moment. the twins deserve his entire attention and not vague or half-thought answers.

it's only when they ask for something so simple that he feels like the first time he saw them, the ache in his throat nearly spilling all his thoughts and worries because he wanted nothing to happen to them. his hands cradle them close, asking if they have been obeying their parents, if they have been going to bed at the right hour, if they are not avoiding their vegetables, earning a pout or more but the laughter comes when his lips briefly fall on their small heads.

that is more than enough. he will see them soon again.

he takes a brief breath, hand seeking for marie even if the fingertips are trembling. his eyes sting but he cannot call it in good conscience say it was from sadness, maybe a slight tinge, it was more how he never wanted to let them go. perhaps it was his own inability to not stop being attached to what he loved. another breath, and he leans down to place a kiss on her brow, staying still for a moment. “What did they give you?” dried fruit? chocolate? all that with those small hands pulling for a hug?

[animasend]

it does happen as quick as she says, but by the time her feet touch the ground again– a mere blink, accompanied by only two sonic booms (but she makes sure he's sufficiently protected from the force) and a handful of sparks of lightning– she's struggling to keep in the laughter. few things scare him and even less get a reaction out of him, so hearing him scream was something new. really, she almost fumbled mid-flight seeing the way his expression went through probably every known emotion to man and then some but she couldn't risk such precious cargo.

even as he still clings to her for dear life, she holds back her laughter, choosing to instead press a kiss to his lips as an apology. " Relax, dear. We're here but don't worry– I'll carry you until you can feel your legs again." and maybe there's too much enjoyment in her voice but who is to say?

true to her words, she carries him through the large overarching gate, one of few located in the wards, which took them to elarips. but rather than go any further, a set of familiar faces meet them at the gate as two younger ones rush forward the second they're spotted with a card and small treat bag in each hand.

humming softly, she sets goetia down, keeping a hand on his waist just in case the feeling wasn't quite back yet. her lips are against his ear, just loud enough for him to hear. " They wanted to give you their gift. I got mine earlier so this is just for you."

[exousiate]

in dreams, in memories, in the brief respite between illusion and reality where his clairvoyance never sends more than flashes in the corner of his eye, he sees romani with that infuriating smile. that gesture is not what he inherited, and practicing it in the mirror hurts his cheeks, but there are what-ifs that lead him to imagine he could do it. if the world had been kinder and no misunderstandings had happened.

it's not much different here, where his other self appears like a mockery or an ill-timed joke, because he sees him and decides that they will never understand each other. what brought him into that conclusion after the temple laid in ruins is not what he would wish on anyone, less of all a him that never knew the price of that hatred. he looks at the other familiar face and nods to her, she is not his marie but he cannot bring himself to begrudge her. that is his weakness, how his gaze lingers as he notices how marie looks more similar in age now.

and then, he moves his eyes. he stares, and stares, and stares, and thinks: they are so little. with those smiles on their small faces, round cheeks, and the ribbons that are not his signature — there is more from marie than him, and accepting that has always had his throat ache viscerally. not because he resents it. no, it is because he loves her that every part of him wants to dwell into a grief that he could get lost into.

his throat aches. he pretends that nothing is wrong, but his hand squeezes hers, fingertips trembling only for her to notice. “They look like you.” and then, a gentler squeeze. take me to them? do not let me fall?

[animasend]

" Actually, you'd be right to. I saw him running with it into the kitchen." no doubt to stash them where he always did, enjoying the little game the kitten has made out of it. she could watch him for hours, content to just see him go about his day without stress nor worry. each day she's tempted to tell him his duty is done back in their world but that's to wonder over at a different time.

" I got it." she tugs free her own black and gold ribbon from her braid (which is easily replaced with magecraft seconds later) before grabbing a brush. careful through the pink hair she draws it, gathering the rest into that low ponytail he always wore, tying the ribbon into place with a neat bow. her touch lingers as she makes sure no hair is loose before nodding in satisfaction. her hand finds his immediately, grip firm as she tugs him along, a certain excitement in her steps as she only allows him enough time to grab his coat before they're out the door.

" We'll be coming back here later so you can be comfortable again. but rather than waste time–" there's a mischevious glint in her eyes and without warning, she's scooping him up into her arms, grin wide and proud as a laugh follows. " You aren't afraid of flying, are you?" well, flying she says but it's more like ten seconds of high-speed movement but it still counts.

[exousiate]

for a moment, he is not sure what his sense of danger is trying to alert him from; the glint from those amber eyes that he adores more than life itself, her carefree smile that caused more than disruption into plans older than millennia, and he would still have to be certain twice to understand the dryness of his throat is not from closeness. rather he could swear the scream in the air comes from someone that he is acquainted quite well — himself.

is he afraid of flying? the real answer is no, they were meant for greatness as the king's shadow. but that's what the familiar will tell without blinking, what the person he has become will say is different and it does not begin in the same manner. marie calls it 'flying' but his ears were not made yesterday, and certainly they are not brand new either, because he can pick up what she means is high-speed. and that, he will emphasize is not something he is prepared for.

the hand that was in the air is now grabbing tightly her arm and his stare is that of a man that will most likely meet the fool that brought him into the world and then left it without any consideration of his feelings. too dramatic? good, he has not even begun to list his grievances. but at least, solomon will find it delightful that goetia chose to trust the person he loves. even if he is screaming for his life right now.

[animasend]

it should be considered illegal, the way her smile is immediate at such a simple action. she supresses the urge to press her lips together to restrain it, knowing how he always liked to see her smile. just one of the many things that, while no longer she worries over, has yet to stop giving her butterflies. her grip loosens the second his hand covers hers as a gentle blush creeps along her cheeks, fingers curling to fit the shape of his cheek.

yet there is something to be said about how she doesn't shy away at such acts of affection anymore. amber eyes soften at the kiss as her other hand moves to fix his bangs, messy from sleep despite the fact he looked good no matter what.

"I know. Like when I went to the store for something quick while you're resting just for you to show up ten minutes later." she leans closer, hair falling like a veil of white to press a kiss to his forehead, resisting the enticing urge to just fall back into bed with him and let the day pass. but he deserves to be spoiled and she would ensure no less. " Now get up. There's somewhere we have to go first and then I can give you your gift."

[exousiate]

it is tempting to tell her they can simply spend the day in their home, but with how they are he understands far more than he will admit that those moments take much preparation. and so, even if he wants to do nothing more to bring her down with his arms and lose himself in her snow-white curls, he tilts his head against the pillow and lets out a low sound from his throat.

“That was because you did not leave a note,” he continues, playing along. his whole body protests as the effort to move becomes obvious but persistence is an unfortunate trait of his, and it takes not much longer to get him out of bed. his pajamas will have to be changed, though.

hands hurry along as he undoes the buttons and grabs a casual attire for the occasion, barely stopping to brush his hair. the bangs are still lovingly in the place marie left them but the ponytail needs to be finished, because the hair ties are missing again. “Not that I want to suspect any of them but Peaches came earlier to lay down before he left.”

[animasend]

it's almost noon and he still isn't up which means she must resort to rather drastic measures. seriously, sleeping in, on today of all days? after she went to such extreme lengths to ensure her plan would work perfectly? olga would be offended if not for the fact she knew goetia needed his rest. (mildly annoyed would be more suited anyway, given how she told him to go to bed early and he didn't listen.)

her knee sinks into the bed as she leans over him, ignoring the urge to caress his cheek. that could come later– business first. "Hey." nothing. narrowing her eyes, she reaches out to pinch his cheek between her fingers, tugging without much mercy.

" If I have to say 'hey' again then I'm just going to leave without you." there, that should work. no, she had no intentions of leaving and sure, a kiss would be a better wake-up call but he still had to suffer some for staying up so late.

@exousiate

[exousiate]

eyes flutter open, the haziness of sleep disappearing like mere breath when he sees that familiar face. the slight tinge of pain becomes irrelevant, though a part of him wants to disagree because her grip is much stronger than him and with another, that could be a sign of weakness from his side. but with her? his marie? he cares none, and the smile that appears when she continues talking earns her a gentle laugh.

sometimes, he wants to spend his entire lifetime doing nothing but memorize how she looks in this moment. rather than go along with that notion, his hand chooses to hold her against his cheek before nuzzling it delicately with his nose.

“If you did, I would follow you, love.” and there, lips move to her palm. perhaps she can sense the humor into his smile, but it is nothing than she is a stranger of. particularly, his habit of hiding the smirk when it happens.