memes / accepting / @fatedechoes: there's never going to be a "next time."
What they had was an entanglement that only existed in the shroud of darkness. Illuminated by fire or starlight. It had no rhyme or reason, he couldn't trust her, shouldn't trust her, and yet when it was only them it was only then where Garen felt at his most comfortable. Gone were the expectations and armor in favor of a brief moment of bliss and comfortable banter and conversation. How had it come to this? A chance meeting during the brink of the mage rebellion, a capturing of an assassin and a cuffed mistake leading to an undeniable night of teamwork? From there it was a dance, a magnetic pull drawing him near to her whenever he caught a glimpse of scarlet across rooftops and they found themselves by the docks, sitting side by side, sometimes with words, sometimes with silence. The tranquility was both alarming and soothing.
A small smile pulls at his lips, cobalt gaze trained on the ripples of the water. Every time they met they both swore it'd be the last. They had no business being there, two different people from different worlds and yet every promise they broke and they found their way back to one another again. Did Garen fear that one day they'd keep said promise? The idea of never seeing Katarina again . . . it was uneasy, a heaviness in his chest he didn't quite want to acknowledge or confront, far more in favor of shoving it under his armor like most feelings he allowed himself to embrace for even a fleeting moment.
" You're right. " He replies back gruffly, deep baritone a hushed whisper. " Last time. " Another reminder and yet he doesn't move, he sits by her side, arms touching, warmth radiating. She could kill him in an instant, a dagger could puncture his throat in a second and yet . . . Jarvan would never understand, never get how he could let her in, how he could be with her in any way or form. " I suppose we should make good use of our final moments together. " He wasn't an eloquent man, he had no use for pretty words or pretty actions, he was a soldier. And yet being beside Katarina made him want to be good at such things, and perhaps that was why he allowed himself to show a gentler side, his hand grasping her own as he leans down to press a singular kiss to her cheek. A goodbye. For if they both came to their senses, that was what tonight would be, a conclusion, a finale.
The kiss was over quickly, and while he should have backed away, his courage demanded more, and after a quick glance at her face, he gently tips her chin to this time allow their lips to brush together. A sweeter kiss than any of the desperate ones they shared before and yet it felt appropriate.
For once he wanted to be the sort of person to do something so affectionate with the one person he shouldn't care about and yet he did. He so desperately did.
