What If This Storm Ends?
Asher Devereux made his way downstairs to the library and adjoined combat room. His brows were furrowed, and he was armed with a wooden tray that had sushi, prepared potstickers and buns resting upon it. Two sets of chopsticks resided, one on each side of the tray. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs upon seeing Layla, freezing as he examined her. Every muscle in his body was tense for a moment, but it was just that; a moment. When it passed, he continued on and made his way over towards the fire she had situated herself in front of. "Hey," he murmured quietly, smiling down to her before he extended the tray down in offering. "Food?"
Layla Locklear looked up, jerking her head to the side at the sound of Asher's voice. Her eyes were wide, staring into the fire, that is until they turned on him. She bit her lip and forced a smile. "Hey." She said, moving her hands to rest in her lap, one clutching the other.
He resisted the impulse to frown, instead, he maintained a soft smile for the woman. "I made your favorite... As best as I could, anyway." He settled himself down on the floor beside her, placing the wooden tray of food in front of them. "I'm not well practiced in the culinary arts of Doma... But I hope I did alright." He looked back towards Layla and shifted his gaze down towards her hands, inhaling deeply before he sighed. "Are you feeling better?"
Layla turned her head, shaking it side to side lightly. "No." She said, eyes turning from him, from the fire, down to her hands. Her fingers twisted and twirled over one and other. Nervous? Uncomfortable? She didn't say. "You don't have to sit with me." She finally said, allowing that long pregnant pause between them to finally subside. It was then, though, that her eyes moved to the food. "I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks." Had she?
Asher gave a slow nod and turned his gaze to settle upon the fire. Each individual lick of flame was observed as he considered his next words. Eventually, he sighed, nodded his head, and cleared his throat. "I know." He looked back towards Layla, peering at her from the corner of his eyes, glimmering with painful uncertainty. He reached out for her, curling his gloved fingers over the top of her stacked hands. "I made a lot..." he offered, his smile growing somewhat, even genuinely. It was the truth, the tray was covered in different assortments of sushi from the hostelry that they had enjoyed in Kugane... Or, well, Asher's imitation of them. Buns resided on each corner, and several plates of potstickers were present between them all. There was a lot there... He'd truly gone above and beyond in food preparation. But it was always easier to cook than think. "I hope you won't mind sharing some of it with me?"
Layla jerked her hand back quickly. Too quickly. At first, she had not noticed he was gloved, but it didn't matter. She didn't trust him, or herself, for that matter. It was a familiar feeling, not trusting herself, and she was caught off guard by not only the feeling but that she didn't really know why. She shoved her hands into the long robe she wore, pulling a pair of thick, black gloves free. Each hand was slipped into the gloves and then placed into her lap again. "I know I make you uncomfortable." She finally said, whispering the words. It was then that her eyes finally settled on the tray of sushi and other items. She. Was. Starving. So, so starving.
Asher froze for a moment as Layla jerked her hands away beneath the cover of her robe. He furrowed his brows and gently pursed his lips, worry overtaking him for a moment. "You don't make me uncomfortable," he murmured, pulling his hand back to his knee and settling his gaze upon the tray of abundantly full Doman cuisine. "I... Make me uncomfortable around you." He wrinkled his nose at the explanation and shook his head. "I don't trust myself." Those last words came out as a low whisper, hardly uttered. Just loud enough for her to hear. He paused again, letting only the crackling of the fire remain between the two of them before he plucked up a set of chopsticks. He extended them out to her and lofted a brow. "Food?"
Layla furrowed her brow, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She lifted a hand, taking the chopsticks. She moved them, clutching them in a closed fist, back into her lap. "What does that even mean?" She asked, shaking her head as she looked over at him again. "You pulled away from me cause I was drai--" Her head shook from side to side again, fingers wrapping hard around the chopsticks she still held, nearly breaking them.
Asher bit his lip gently and canted his head to the side as Layla posed her question. It was a good question. One that he wasn't sure he really had the answer to. "Bad dreams," he tried to explain feebly, plucking up the other set of chopsticks. He couldn't bring himself to pick at the food he'd prepared, not yet... Not after Layla had finished speaking. "I would let you drain me," he said, almost emotionlessly as he shrugged. "I don't want to be without you, not in this life... Not in the next." He sighed and finally plucked up a single piece of raw tuna draped across a slab of rice. "When you stumbled... You surprised me. It was a lot at first, but I would put up with it, even though I know you don't or wouldn't want me to."
Layla Locklear almost didn't let him finish. She was up, on her knees, and turning to face him faster than she should have been. It was almost inhuman. The moment she was up on her knees, staring him down with intense blue eyes, she pushed him. Not just a normal push, but a hard, heavy-handed shove. "Are you a fucking idiot?" She asked him, eyes lit with a bluish flame. It lasted only a moment though, and before he would even have time to react to the shove, she was slumped back down beside him as she had been before.
Asher lurched to the side with Layla's heavy-handed shove. It was hard, it wasn't what he'd come to expect from her usual playful self, but it still wasn't quite enough to knock him off balance. Not truly. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Probably," he murmured and recentered himself. His piece of sushi had escaped his chopsticks during the shove, and it fell just off to the side of the tray on the ground, pieces of rice broken off to surround the tuna. Luckily there was a lot already. "You're not diminished in my eyes, Layla... I'm just happy that you're back." He plucked up the spilled sushi and rice with a gloved hand, tossing it forward into the fire. Nobody wanted to eat that now. "I was afraid for you."
Layla picked up the chopsticks she had dropped in the process of moving to shove him. The wider top of one was broke, bent, and splintered. They were still useable, that was all that mattered. For a long time she sat there beside him, simply processing all of the things he had to say. Each word. All of their meanings. "You are an idiot." She said, finally, just before dipping her set of chopsticks down to pluck up one of the smaller roll pieces. She didn't even care which one. She knew his cooking was A+. "Asher," she continued after swallowing down the raw fish and rice. "What happened?"
Asher glanced down to the chopsticks she rebrandished, examining them as she began to pluck up some pieces of sushi. "After Booshie's gauntlet of fights we had to return to your Father's... We had moved residences temporarily to help distance you from the person that was stalking you." He cleared his throat and prepared to continue, but inevitably furrowed his brows and reached out with an upturned palm for her chopsticks, his other hand extending his own out to her. She might've pushed him, incurred that damage upon her own utensils, but he wasn't about to let her sit there and eat with them. "You were getting ready for bed when you disappeared, none of the Guards knew where you had gone or seen anyone... That's when we discovered that the thing that was interested in you was a Mindflayer." Even as he continued to explain, he was gazing at her expectantly.
Layla Locklear jerked, once, at the exact moment he mentioned the Mindflayer. It was almost as if her body responded it to, the familiar name, but her mind was still lost to why. For now. She took his offered chopsticks, smiling up at him weakly. "Why are you like this?" She asked him, already reaching down for the second segment of a roll. "Everything in my head is just..." She paused again, popping the bite into her mouth and remaining silent while she chewed. "It's just a fucking mess." She finally finished, eyes on him again. "And, it was so strange earlier today, when I woke up. I was so hot. But the room wasn't hot... and I... I could feel you. And Eme. And Kayne. I knew you were there. But, not because I heard you, or saw you..." She stopped once more, swallowing back a lump that had formed in the back of her throat. "I could taste your aether. It was so raw. And I just..." She paused, again, looking down at the sticks in her hand.
Asher snorted quietly and retrieved her own chopsticks, fiddling with them in his hand to get a proper grip with them. She was definitely more practiced with them than he was, but he'd make due. "You were..." he trailed off, searching for the words as he retrieved a bite for himself and silently chewed. Once he'd swallowed it down he shook his head. "You weren't entirely yourself, I don't think... You were manic, aware of certain things at some points, and slipping at others." He shook his head and looked back towards her, offering a smile. "Are you feeling that right now?" He examined her from head to toe as he posed that question, inevitably settling his gaze upon her own. He remembered how those green eyes had turned a fiery blue. It was hard not to imagine them doing so again already... But that was something he felt he'd keep to himself for now.
Layla just looked at him and nodded. There was sadness in her eyes, pure, unadulterated sadness that he had likely never seen there before. Real emotions. Raw. Hard. "Very, very much." She said quietly. "And I don't know how to make it stop."
