“We could always slip away, and slide in close to get warm.”
Sighing heavily as he stood at the farthest point in the room away from the masses of people intermingling, the man cast silver orbs to the glass in his hand. The wine he poured for himself ages ago still remained untouched. What sense was there in drinking when everything inside of him screamed with an uncomfortable amount of boredom?
Viren wasn’t typically fond of social gatherings and although this surprised absolutely no one, he had expected to speak with Harrow at least once. When such an event had neither occurred nor seemed at all plausible, he resorted to sulking. Slinking away to whatever corner he could find, he reminded himself that in some instances...his presence simply wasn’t welcome. If anyone had been surprised tonight, it seemed, it was Viren.
How pathetic.
“We could always slip away, and slide in close to get warm.”
The voice in his ear elicited a sharp gasp; the man flinching with such force that he nearly spilled wine all over the front of his shirt. Thankfully such a tragedy hadn’t occurred, but it didn’t stop him from glaring at the tall, attractive elf standing beside him; smirk held firmly in place, cheeks alight with twinkling satisfaction.
Huffing aloud, the man composed himself with a roll of shoulders.
“I...don’t think even cuddling could save you from this cold.”
He kept his response neutral. Swallowed down the very thoughts of wandering outside, alone, with the Xadian that kept his heart beating much too fast these days. What would Harrow think? Would he even notice?
He sighs softly, looking away from the elf and dropping his gaze to the dance floor, couples held together comfortable and bodies moving as one. Really, this entire party had been a horrible idea. He should have stayed home and buried himself in his research, passed out on his desk, and awoke by early morning just to repeat the process all over again.
“It’s cold, but I need a breath of fresh air. Join me~?”
He turns his attention back to the elf, lifting a single brow and looking down at the hand extended toward him. He lifts silver to meet gold, hesitating. The offer was simple. Kind, even. It was a reaction and an invitation that was simply so Aaravos.
Viren was familiar with his behaviors by now. Accustomed to his speech patterns and mannerisms. There was nothing the elf loved more than curing his curiosity. Dipping his nose in areas that didn’t belong. Learning about those that intrigued him. Those that captivated him.
They were one in the same.
Sighing loudly (dramatically), the man reaches forward and takes the hand.
“Alright,” he breathes, setting his glass down on the nearby table. “But...not for too long.”
It was exactly the form of acceptance the elf desired; smile stretching from ear to ear. He leads the mage away from the people. Away from the music and lights and cacophony of conversations that all meant absolutely nothing to either one of them. They were the outcasts of both of their communities. The individuals that no one paid any mind too, because they simply could not be bothered to do so. Not when they were so unwilling to understand. To undermine their work and passions and existence.
Together, however, they were invincible. Like-minded souls that, after months of ignorance, racism, misunderstandings, and frustrations, found solace in one another’s presence. They found a type of comfort that was only found when they were away from those that questioned them.
It was moments like these, hand-in-hand, Aaravos pulling the man out into the large garden, Viren doing nothing but saving the touch of their hands to memory, that both individuals felt truly at peace.
Once they reached the heart of their destination, the elf allowed his favorite human the chance to observe. To be free of his grabbing and pulling and allow him to wander wherever he may go. He did, however, watch the man quietly - the way his face lit up at the sights of the frozen flowers. The snow blanketing them in its soft touch.
“It’s so serene,” Viren murmurs, stepping forward to brush snow away from one of the flowers; its wide, red petal seeing the light of day once more.
“That’s the good thing about winter,” Aaravos replies smoothly, stepping toward the man. “The gardens are always quiet.”
“Mm...a very true statement.”
Though the man is no longer paying attention, his eyes observing each and every plant and flower; his eyes glowing with a sense of calm one can only find in such moments of beauty and wonder. He is himself again, free of the burdens he carries. Ignorant to the self-doubt and anxieties that hum just above his skin. Here, in this quiet garden, nothing but the sounds of his and his companion’s breath filling the silence, Viren was alive.
Taking a step forward, the elf reaches a hand forward to tilt the man’s head away from his current source of infatuation. He moves quickly, unable to withhold himself any longer. Lips meet the chapped pair of his partner, the man melting into the touch as he returns the affection immediately. Aaravos wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him close; Viren releasing a small grunt of surprise.
They part slowly, both unwilling to let it end, but understanding that it has to. For now. They remain together, however, embracing and keeping one another warm. Foreheads press against one another, eyes closing slowly as they soak up the moment. Enjoy the time that they have to themselves. Away from people. Away from past wounds and hurt feelings.
“Let’s...stay here a while.”
Viren’s voice. Soft. Gentle. It’s enough. More than enough. It solidifies all that they are - together.
Aaravos, in turn, releases a small chuckle and leans down for another kiss. It’s longer this time, more passionate; the ending arriving with the slight tug of his human’s lips.
“As long as you desire, Viren.”
He whispers it against his lips, the snow cascading around them. Caressing them in a touch so soft, neither one wished to move. To leave what they created for themselves once again.
Thus, the two spent the remainder of the party together; hand-in-hand, observing the gardens, and falling deeper in love - as soulmates often do.
