ᨒ content warnings: all lowercase intended, soft so'lek, past trauma, body scarring, physical intimacy, emotional vulnerability, body exploration
ᨒ word count: 1.5k
ᨒ author's note: based on this request! also, let me guys know if this oneshot is reminiscent of my old writings, and not my newer drabbles! i've been taking in some feedback from u guys :^)
kinglor forest breathed in rhythmic pulses, casting a soft, cyan glow that clung to the mossy floor of your shared shelter. outside, the night was alive with the distant, haunting calls of sturmbeast and the rustle of leaves that sounded like the ocean’s sigh. inside, the world narrowed to the space between you and so’lek. he sat cross-legged upon a woven mat, his silhouette sharp against the dim light, the scent of crushed herbs and woodsmoke clinging to his skin like a second shadow.
silence had always been your shared language—a heavy, protective cloak you both wore to shield the jagged edges of what the sky people had left behind. you watched the way the light caught the ridge of his shoulders, the muscles there tight, even in this moment of supposed rest. he was a man carved from the very rock of the mountains, unyielding and cold to the touch until one learned how to find the hidden heat beneath the surface. you moved closer, the soft rustle of your movements causing his ear to twitch, though he did not turn his head.
a single hand reached out, fingers hovering just inches from the broad expanse of his back. there, a long, jagged line interrupted the smooth, blue symmetry of his skin—a relic of a hunt gone wrong, or perhaps a reminder of the horrors that had claimed his past. your touch, when it finally landed, was as light as a syulì'ang’s (flutterflower’s) wing. so’lek’s entire frame jolted, a sharp intake of breath hitching in his throat as his lengthy tail lashed once against the floor.
"nga fyep (you touch)," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to rumble through the ground itself. he didn't pull away. instead, he remained perfectly still, his head bowing slightly as if yielding to the contact.
"it is a history," you whispered, your thumb tracing the raised edge of the scar. the texture was different from the rest of him—tougher, a testament to the body’s desperate need to knit itself back together. "i wanted to see where you have been."
so’lek turned slowly, his golden eyes searching yours with an intensity that made the air feel thin. the usual mask of the stoic warrior was beginning to fray at the edges, revealing a raw, bewildered vulnerability that he rarely allowed to see the sun. he reached out, his large, calloused hand cupping your jaw, his thumb dragging across the faint mark near your temple—a souvenir from the cold, sterile halls of the tap facility.
"and i have wanted to know the map of your grief," he confessed, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "we are both broken things, sarentu. we have spent so long being numb, pretending the ice in our veins is a virtue."
his fingers trailed down to the collar of your tunic, hesitant, waiting for the slight nod you gave him. with a gentleness that defied his massive strength, he moved the fabric aside to reveal the scars that littered your shoulders and chest—some neat and surgical, others crumbling and cruel. each one was a memory of a time you were treated as a specimen rather than a living soul. as his gaze raked over them, his expression shifted from curiosity to a deep, resonant ache.
he didn't look away. so’lek leaned forward until his forehead pressed against yours, his breath puffing, warm and steady against your lips. "they tried to rewrite you," he said, the words heavy with a shared understanding. "but you are still here. the stone did not shatter."
his hand moved to your palm, tracing the lines there before moving up your arm. he found a small, circular scar on your forearm and pressed a lingering kiss to it. the sensation was an electric jolt, a sudden thaw in the permafrost that had settled over your heart for years. you let out a shuddering exhale, your eyes closing as you leaned into him, the physical proximity suddenly overwhelming and vital.
"sometimes i feel as though i am only made of these marks," you admitted, your voice trembling. "as if the person i was before is buried too deep to find."
so’lek pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his own shimmering with a fierce, protective light. "then we will find them together. or we will build someone new from the pieces that remain."
he shifted, pulling his tunic over his head to fully expose the geography of his own survival. his chest was a tapestry of violence and endurance. there were bullet grazes that looked like silver tears and deep gouges that spoke of desperate reaches for freedom. you reached out with both hands, mapping the contours of his ribs, feeling the frantic thrum of his heart beneath your palms.
"does it hurt?" you asked, your fingers lingering on a particularly deep mark near his hip.
"not anymore," he replied, though the way his features pinched suggested the memory of the pain was still vivid. "the body forgets the sting, eventually. it is the spirit that lingers on the blade."
he took your hands in his, guiding them to a scar right over his heart—a jagged line of white tissue. "this one," he said, his voice cracking. "this is from the day the mountains turned to ash. i thought i had died with them. for a long time, i lived as a ghost, haunting my own skin."
you felt a tear slip down your cheek, the salt of it stinging as it hit the air. you hadn't realized you were crying until so’lek caught the drop with his thumb, his gaze softening into a look of such profound affection that it felt like a physical. for so, so, long you had both been closed off, two fortresses standing guard over empty halls. but here, in the quiet, the gates were finally creaking open.
the intimacy wasn't in the lack of clothing, but in the lack of metaphorical armor. you were showing him the parts of you that were ugly, the parts that were ruined, and he was meeting them with worship. you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—rain, leather, and the unique, sweet musk of a hunter at rest. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his lap until you were a tangle of limbs and shared warmth.
"ma tskxe syulang (my stone flower)," he murmured into your hair, his grip tightening as if he feared you might dissolve into the mist. "you are not your scars. you are the strength it took to earn them."
you pulled back to look at him, your hands framing his face. the lines around his eyes seemed less deep now, the tension in his jaw finally beginning to dissolve. you traced the curve of his ear, the way it flickered at your touch, and felt a surge of love pounding loudly in your chest. it was a resonance, a recognition of one soul finally finding its mirror.
"i want to see all of you," you whispered. "not just the warrior. i want the man who stays in the morning. i want the man who carries me when i am too tired to walk."
so’lek let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-scoff, pulling you back against him. "then you shall have him. though i suspect he is a very stubborn man."
the night stretched on, the pandoran bioluminescence outside fading as the first hints of dawn began to bleed into the sky. you remained there, locked in that still embrace, the numbness of the past finally being replaced by the steady, pulsing heat of a future you were no longer afraid to touch. you had spent so long being a survivor; here, in the arms of the man who knew your scars by heart, you were finally allowed to be a person.
"oe ngati kameie (i see you), so'lek," you said softly, using the formal greeting that carried the weight of a vow.
he pressed his lips to your forehead, his tail curling around your ankle in a silent, possessive gesture of comfort. "and i see you, ma yawntu (my beloved).”
the morning light was a pale, honeyed amber when it finally broke through the canopy, spilling across the floor of the lean-to. you stirred, feeling the familiar weight of so’lek’s arm across your middle, his breath a rhythmic pant against the back of your neck. the world outside was waking up—the forest was beginning its daily chorus of trills and whistles—but here, in this moment, the silence was a sanctuary.
you turned in his arms, watching the way the light danced across the scars you had mapped the night before. they didn't look like wounds anymore, they looked like gold-seamed cracks in a vessel, making the whole of him more precious for having been broken. so’lek’s eyes fluttered open, the pupils dilating as he found your face.
"you are still here," he noted, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.
"i told you," you replied, a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips. "i am not ready to leave this."
he huffed, a sound of reluctant contentment, and pulled you closer until there was no space left between you.
so'lek... i love u dearly but i'm afraid my writing did not do u justice in this
