Harry really has it out for college student huh? I'm trying to study for a mental health final and the only thing I can think about is Harry
same with me and spanish and like…this is gunna fully determine my final grade. harry said ur already having a breakdown over school so i might as well just time your harry breakdown to match, its a 2 for 1 special
[ hand kiss ] – for the sender’s muse to kiss the back of the receiver’s hand.
"don't."
a hand lifts in warning the moment he comes into view. the goal had been to hide herself away outside the tavern, tucked into the shadows of the alley until some balance had been restored, until she'd felt like herself again and brought the words swirling in her mind to a halt. naturally, it would be enver fucking gortash to disrupt even the most private of her plans.
"i don't want any sort of assessment," arlis' hand remains lifted, each word enunciated through gritted teeth. she hopes its faint tremble is not evident. "and i certainly don't want a conversation. not now."
it had been an accident as much as it had been an impulse. there'd been so many bhaalists all at once, hidden away amidst the calm and quiet of the park. it had been the perfect place for them to strike, to ambush, in retrospect. where else might someone lower their guard within the lower city but amongst neatly kept paths, amidst the gentle trickle of fountains?
she blinks and swallows hard against the earth still lodged in her throat, the dust coating her tongue. his dark gaze is assessing, very nearly curious, though it lacks its the ruthless gleam she's become accustomed to. he takes another step forward and arlis repeats herself, both a warning and an order now. "i mean it, enver. there's a reason i'm not with the others. i need-, i need space."
it's hungry still, that thing inside of her. it had been insatiable when first untethered in the park, furious and rabid, and to think how closely it had ebbed towards the others once done with the bhaalists feels her with dread. she hadn't been in control. it'd been reckless, dangerous. (had it been the same way for thorm? had it been exhausting, keep that maw leashed? had it thrilled him like it did her, the surge of all that power after so very long with none?)
"your god doesn't worry me," gortash waves a hand dismissively and is closer yet, too close, "your's and mine have decided to tolerate each other for the time being, in case you've forgotten."
"he's not my god," her gaze flicks up and there's a sharp twitch of her fingers, the beginning of a call she refuses to answer. arlis clenches her hand into a fist, "and i'm not thorm. i'm not... practiced at this, not the way he was."
"regardless, it's clear you have at least some of what power he did. you'll need to learn how to master it, lest it master you." gortash takes her hand, ignores the faint flinch it coaxes from her, and carefully, gently moves her fingers from digging into the tender flesh of her palm. his fingers wrap around her own to steady their trembling.
her gaze follows his, down to the dark bruises mottling her knuckles and trailing to her wrist. if arlis looks close enough, long enough, a part of her knows she will see them move, shift, darken further still.
gortash traces his thumb over the back of her hand slowly, almost tauntingly. "see? i've hardly succumbed." he turns her hand and allows a finger to brush over the lines of her palm, against the ebbing shadow at its heart. his next words are softer. "power isn't something to fear, arlis, not when you're the one wielding it."
then, without so much as a warning, gortash lifts her hand and presses his lips to its back. the tenderness of it startles her, disarms her, but to her own surprise, there is no attempt to withdraw her hand. if anything, she thinks she does not want it to end, this warmth that cuts through the chill wrapped around her bones.
this realization should frighten her, but she finds she does not want to fight against it.
"don't let the others in your party convince you otherwise," he releases her hand and yet again, still, there is no cruelty in his words, no cutting edge or disregard, "you can only control something if you understand it."
there is something new in his gaze, equally as bright but not nearly as dark. it looks like respect. "who knows, perhaps you'll surprise us all and be even stronger than our dearly departed ketheric by the end."
