Eris is many things. Creepy. Intense. Competent. Strong. Loyal. Weird, in the best way.
She is not, on the other hand, easy to make laugh.
Cayde tries. A lot. He cracks jokes, says every Hive-related puns he knows, makes impressions of Shaxx and Zavala. He falls flat on his face in front of her. Numerous times.
Nothing works. Not the one liners, not the sass, not even the slapstick. Somehow he can't manage to make her crack the smallest smile, let alone chuckle out loud.
He's entirely out of ideas, and he's never heard her laugh. At this point it's a matter of pride.
That's what he hears first, today: her laugh. It's hers. He's sure of it. There's am echo-y quality to her voice that's impossible to mistake. It's such a rare, impossible thing to hear it brings him up short. He stands still for a moment, waiting to see if he'll hear it again.
He doesn't. Instead he hears the murmur of voices and follows the sound to its source, walking softly so as to not alert anyone of his presence. He peaks around a corner and sees–
Ikora, sitting companionably next to Eris. They have their heads brought close together in some kind of secret Warlock discussion. Whatever it is they're talking about has Ikora smiling in genuine joy. Their tangled fingers rest in Ikora's lap. Eris isn't big on physical contact, usually. But Cayde can see she's relaxed, even though she's turned away from him. She seems almost... Content.
He wasn't aware the two of them were quite that close. He spares a moment to wonder if Nasreen knows. He wouldn't dare pretend he knows how their relationship works: they're both happy and he leaves it at that. He's still curious, though.
"They're cute together, aren't they?"
He jumps. Nasreen is way too sneaky for a Titan. She settles behind his shoulder, watching the two Warlocks with an air of fondness. That answers his question. Clearly, not only does she know, but she's deeply supportive of it.
"Yeah," he says quietly, wary of bringing attention to them. Of breaking the moment. "Never heard Creepy laugh, before."
"She might laugh at your jokes more if you didn't call her that," Nasreen says, lifting an eyebrow. "Then again, I've heard your jokes."
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"
But she's already walking away, joining the two other women. She comes up behind Eris and lays a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. Ikora gets a kiss on her forehead. Nasreen throws a glance above her shoulder at that, a clear warning directed at Cayde. This is not for him to witness: the affection that connects the three women is almost visible, a comfortable intimacy that makes his heart squeeze in his chest.
The last thing he sees before he tip-toes away is Eris, with a smile so soft and so warm it seems to transform her entire face.
He doesn't know what it takes to make her laugh, but he's glad there's someone here who do.
Everything hurts. Ikora thinks she can be forgiven for her lack of vocabulary in this situation.
Warlock migraines are a bitch. Use your abilities too much, too often, and bam! Everything is pain and misery for a while. That makes sense. But sometimes the migraines just… appear out of nowhere, for no discernible reasons. Just because the universe is disgruntled with your constant poking and prodding of it and decides to prods back.
There’s a creak as the bedroom door opens, faint light filtering through her eyelids. A voice calls out from the corridor. “Babe?”
Pain sparks through her head like lightning. She groans, swatting her hand in the direction of the voice and hitting nothing but empty air.
“Oh dear.” The voice is but a whisper now, softer but also closer. It’s a comfort, despite the slight ache it elicits. “Migraine again?”
Ikora manages a hum of ascent. She rolls over, curling on herself and reaching for Nasreen with one hand. Nasreen tangles their fingers together, rubs her thumb over the back of her hand in a comforting manner.
“Do you want anything?”
She shakes her head against the pillow. Although tea does sound lovely at the moment, she’s really not feeling like moving in any way so she can drink it. It’ll have to wait.
“Alright. Do you want me to stay?”
Ikora hums again, tugging lightly on Nasreen’s hand. Her wife chuckles warmly and moves carefully above her, maneuvering herself against her back, with their tangled hands resting against Ikora’s chest. She doesn’t say anything else, only breathes quietly against the nape of her neck.
It doesn’t banish the pain like magic. But it does make it easier to bear, having Nasreen wrapped protectively around her like she can shield her from her migraine with her body.
It makes her feel safe, and that’s just enough to let her fall asleep despite the pain.
