#bastien.pov

[thatfunkylilfey]

✦ Last Line Tag ✦

— tagged by @fairytaleinagem (x) ✦

rules: make a new post and share the last line(s) you wrote

trigger / content warnings: [mentions of] alcohol (mild)

“Right, yes. Of course.” I drop her hand. “You wanted to rest?”

“I did—I do.” Her brow furrows as her hand curls at her side. She crosses her arms, looking me over. “But how are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Clearly slept well enough to not notice you leave.”

Vanya shakes her head. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the Spider.”

I frown. “What about them?”

And then she hesitates. Her tongue pokes the inside of her cheek, but she doesn’t look away, gaze trained solely on me. “What was it you gave up for me?”

My own gaze falls under the weight of hers. The only other person who knows about my missing memories is Ellery, revealed one night over too many glasses of wine.

✦ open tag + tagging: ✦

— @sparrow-orion-writes ; @viscerawrites

no pressure to participate

[thatfunkylilfey]

✦ mothlight snippet ✦

after 55k words, they're finally talking about harbored feelings — they're idiots in love, your honor

trigger/content warnings: N/A

“If that’s the case, darling, can we talk about it?” The tip of my tongue touches the back of my teeth. “About us?”

There’s no harm in asking, not while we’re here, not while Juniper is dedicating her time to something other than what must happen when we arrive in Kenston. 

Juniper blinks, lips parting as if to draw in breath rather than speak. And in the silence, I almost take it back, almost tell her that it can wait. We don’t have to do this now. A tremor runs through our hands, and I cannot tell if it’s her or me.

“I think we’re long past trying to pick up where we left off,” she says gently.

I swallow, and I am all too aware that the tremor that follows is my own.

“We are,” I say slowly. “But I—”

“We never quite settled on what it was.” She squeezes my hand again. “But I never thought of it as only a bit of fun.”

“No, it wasn’t, not for me,” escapes me in a single breath. I take a moment, collecting myself, my thoughts, my breath. My gaze falls to her hand in mine, reminiscent of that first morning in office when I promised to see this goal of hers through. 

“Even now, we don’t need to call it anything. I don’t need to put it into words. Not when all I need is for you to know that I care for you,” I tell her, eyes lifting and meeting hazel. “That I enjoy your company, no matter the form it takes. That–that I simply enjoy being in your space, if you’ll allow me there.”

It seems effortless, the way the softest of smiles graces her expression. She takes my hand, drawing it near as she leans forward.

“And here I was, ever-so-eager to return to occupying yours,” she murmurs, lips whispering against my hand. “My answer is of course, as if there was any other.”