the moment pyraxis moved, malik felt it through his entire body.
not abrupt, not violent — but undeniable. a living force gathering beneath him, coiling and releasing in powerful rhythm as wings carved into the air. the ground did not vanish all at once; it slipped away in increments, stone and snow and shadow stretching farther and farther below until the mountain that had once loomed so large began to feel… distant.
for the briefest second, his breath caught.
from the sheer magnitude of it.
his fingers tightened instinctively around the lead line, the motion almost reflexive, but fabianus’ hand over his steadied him before it could turn uncertain. that touch — warm, deliberate, guiding — anchored him just as much as the dragon beneath him did. perhaps more.
“i am breathing,” he murmured, softer than before, though there was the faintest lift to his voice that betrayed how deeply he felt it all.
the air shifted around them, no longer something that brushed past him, but something that carried them — alive, moving, endless. it tugged at the fur lining of his coat, threaded through his hair, kissed against his skin with a chill that was quickly chased away by the steady warmth of pyraxis beneath him… and fabianus behind him.
malik exhaled again, slower this time. deliberate.
and then, without quite thinking about it, he leaned back.
only slightly at first — a test, a question more than a decision, until the contact became something fuller, more certain. his back settled against fabianus’ chest, fitting there with an ease that surprised him, as though the space had always been meant to be filled.
it grounded him in a way the mountain never could.
“this is…” he began, only to fall quiet again, his gaze drifting outward instead of downward now. the sky stretched endlessly ahead of them, untouched and vast in a way that felt almost sacred. for once, malik did not search for the right word immediately.
he simply let himself exist within it.
“…you undersold it,” he finished at last, voice quieter, but threaded with something softer now — something freer. there was the faintest curve to his lips as he spoke, though it was not the same carefully measured smile he so often wore. this one came easier. unguarded.
his hand adjusted on the lead line under fabianus’ guidance, more certain now, less tentative. the earlier awareness of each movement began to give way to something smoother, something instinctive, as though his body was learning the rhythm of the dragon beneath him.
below them, the world continued to fall away.
and yet, malik did not feel like he was losing anything.
if anything, he felt as though something was being placed gently into his hands, something vast and impossible and entirely new. he tilted his head just slightly, enough that his voice would carry back more easily, though he did not pull away even when presented with fabianus' impressive jawline.
“if this is your world,” he murmured, softer now, almost thoughtful, “i can see why you never wish to leave it.”
“i’m glad you let me into it.”
