[ID: Relief sculpture of a horse emerging from a painting, inspired by Lascaux. The horse starts as a painting at the rear and is completely three-dimensional from the shoulders, so it appears to be emerging from the block of clay. Behind and overlapping the partially 3D horse is a painting of a dark red horse. Between the front hooves of the two horses is an X shaped symbol. The block of clay is bevelled and rounded to give it a more rock like appearance. End ID.]
Pleased with how this turned out :)
eredhes.etsy.com
Summary: After an abyss attack destroys your home, Kinich, who values independence and self-reliance, offers you a place to stay. Though he presents it as purely practical, his actions reveal a quiet, genuine care. Over time, you settle into a peaceful routine together, finding comfort in his reserved kindness and the small gestures of care he provides, learning that beneath his cold exterior, Kinich has his own way of showing affection.
Warnings: Implied Loss Due To An Abyss Attack, Mild Angst.
The aftermath of the abyss attack was devastating. Your home, once a place of safety and comfort, had been reduced to rubble, its walls shattered and roof torn asunder. The shock of losing everything you had worked for in an instant left you feeling hollow, adrift in a world that had suddenly turned cold and uncertain.
But amid the chaos, there was an unexpected offer. Kinich, with his usual stoic expression, had come to you with a quiet proposal. āYou can stay at my place while your house is being repaired.ā he said, his tone as dry as ever, yet beneath it was something softer, something genuine.
You were hesitant at firstāKinich was a private person, and you knew his past hadnāt been easy. Still, the practicality of the offer, and the simple fact that you needed somewhere safe to stay, won out. You nodded, grateful but unsure of what to expect.
The day you moved into Kinichās house, you couldnāt help but be surprised by howā¦ normal it was. The inside was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of the mansions youād seen in the past. But it had a warmth to it, an unspoken coziness. The walls were lined with handmade furniture, small knick-knacks that spoke of a life lived with care and attention, even if it wasnāt a life of luxury.
Kinich showed you around, his gestures efficient but not unkind. āThis is the kitchen,ā he said, pointing to a simple stove and a small table. āIf you need anything, just ask. And, uhā¦ donāt go near the shed out back. I keep some of myā¦ tools there.ā
You raised an eyebrow. āTools?ā
His lips twitched in what might have been a smile, though it was hard to say. āIāve got a lot of things to fix. Youāll see.ā
You followed him to the living room, where a modest fireplace crackled. The scent of wood and something faintly herbal hung in the air, and Kinich, ever the practical one, was already setting up a small cot by the wall for you.
āDonāt make a fuss about it,ā he said as he smoothed out the blanket. āItās not much, but itāll do for now.ā
You couldnāt help but feel touched. For someone who valued independence so much, Kinich was surprisingly attentive in his own way. You sat down on the cot, still a bit unsure of what to do next.
Kinich cleared his throat and turned toward the kitchen. āIām making dinner. Itāll be ready in about an hour. You can relax until then.ā
As he worked, you took a moment to look around the room. It wasnāt much, but it was hisāhis space, his home. The absence of his usual sharpness, the subtle kindness of his gestures, made you feel a little less alone. Even if he didnāt show it often, Kinich had a way of making you feel like you mattered.
Dinner was simple, a warm stew that smelled of fresh herbs and hearty vegetables. Kinich placed a bowl in front of you, his expression as unreadable as ever, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of something more than just duty.
āYou didnāt have to do this,ā you said, quietly breaking the silence. āLet me help with something.ā
Kinich paused for a moment, his hand still on the pot as he glanced over at you. āItās fine,ā he said with a shrug. āIām not doing it for you. Justā¦ donāt let the food go to waste.ā
You chuckled softly, nodding. Kinichās words were as blunt as always, but the care in his actions was something you couldnāt overlook. As you sat together at the table, eating in comfortable silence, you couldnāt help but think that, despite everything, you had found a place hereāa place where, for the time being, you could heal
Over the next few days, life at Kinichās house settled into a quiet routine. Youād help with the small tasks around the houseācleaning up, organizing thingsāand in return, Kinich would share bits and pieces of his life with you, small snippets of knowledge or skills that heād learned over the years.
One evening, as the sun began to set, you found Kinich in the garden, tending to some plants in the fading light. You hadnāt realized how peaceful the house could feel when it was just the two of you, sharing this simple life together.
āNeed help?ā you asked, walking over to him.
Kinich glanced up, his face softening slightly. āIf you want. I could always use another pair of hands around here.ā
You knelt beside him, taking a small gardening trowel and gently digging into the soil. There was a strange comfort in working alongside him, the silence between you both not awkward but companionable, as if you were partners in something greater than just survival.
āWhy do you do it?ā you asked, looking up at him. āTending to all this, I mean. I wouldāve thought youād want to leave it all behind.ā
Kinich paused, the question catching him off guard. His eyes flickered briefly, almost hesitant, before he answered. āBecause itās mine. Itās the one thing in this world I can rely on. Peopleā¦ they come and go. But this? Itās real. It stays.ā
You smiled at his answer, understanding him a little more than you had before. Kinich didnāt offer grand gestures or flowery words, but in the little thingsālike the way he cared for his home, or the way he offered you a place to stay when you needed it mostāyou saw his quiet strength.
And, despite his belief in self-sufficiency, you couldnāt help but wonder if, maybe, for just a moment, you could be the one thing heād allow himself to rely on, too.
That night, as you both sat by the fire, Kinich spoke again, his voice quieter than usual.
āYouāre welcome to stay as long as you need.ā he said, not looking directly at you but still offering the words with sincerity.
You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude. āThanks, Kinich. Iā¦ I really appreciate it.ā
He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. āItās not charity. Itās justā¦ practical.ā
But the warmth in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.
