A/N: UwU just wanted to add to the married life headcanons after the events of the game. Fluffy good stuff below. GN!Tav, no class/race. Enjoy!
Some days always started better than others. But that’s only to say because someone didn’t need as much sleep as you, and had a life time left to learn new skills. One of them being cooking. Sure Astarion can’t taste and it’s a useless skill to him. But you? He would do anything for you. And that includes learning to cook for the sheer simple act of spoiling you with a warm and home made breakfast in bed.
It’s strange to say you two never had a wedding. That’s not to say you two weren’t married. “Oh…?” Astarion isn’t sure how to explain this when someone asks, “Well, you see, my darling little love here found this-” He holds up his hand and wiggles the ring in his finger, “On a rotting old skeleton then found the matching one, get this, on another smelly corpse!” Most people wouldn’t look fondly on something like that. But no, Astarion wasn’t most people. He’d smile and swoon, “And I suppose since then we’ve been married,”
It doesn’t help that back then when you did find those rings, you quite literally told him, “We’re married now,” As a joke. It wasn’t joke….
Astarion has a habit of leaving you poems to find in the most hidden of places. Like little lost treasures. Or maybe he just knows the looting demon you are at heart with your little grabby fingers going for anything they can touch. So it always comes to a surprise to you when you open a book and a poem written years ago flutters out… but the love and truth still rings pure despite the yellowing of the pages.
Crimson sons, vermillion daughters.
Quivering maroon, burgundy, cardinal.
Short fainting strokes
Fester a broken carotid
Free from feathers
Unbound
By the serpent's head no more.
His way of saying thank you for everything you've ever given him. And then some. No matter the message you cherished each treasured poem you would find.
The man had a knack for spoiling you, unconditionally, and most importantly, endlessly. If you saw something out in a shop that caught you eye, but you were just to stubborn to get it for yourself. Surprise, surprise when you get home and find it there with a man beaming proud like a puppy with his bone.
But that didn’t mean affection was off the table either. Astarion spoiled you with kisses, big ones, little ones, some on the back of your hand as he opened a door for you. Others on your cheek, gently but with sorrow as he left for some few weeks for whatever reason. He had his own things to do and sometimes you couldn’t go with him. But that just meant when he got home you could throw your arms around him, breathe him in and share the long awaited kiss of his return.
Married life strangely suited you both, from the little grabbing of hands under tables, the protective placement of an arm, the look of pride when the other did something extraordinary. And Astarion would always be the more boastful in pride when it came to talking about you.
And he couldn’t help but show off, sure he’s loud and arrogant about it. Saying he was best option of course, no one else stood a chance… blah blah blah. But when no one was around he can look you in the eye and practically grovel, “I am so lucky you chose me,”
There were many other things that came with the long life of being married together. The two of you were quite dedicated to learning to… dance. Astarion hadn’t a clue wether his left foot was right, and you may have been no better. It was your idea really. You heart would swoon watching other couples and with an eager voice you pointed a finger and declared, “I want to do that too!”
And so you did, but behind the close doors of your own home. Seeing as Astarion didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of so many people. Where you both could trip and side step and laugh, giggle and make the most out of learning something new together.
It seemed the two of you had a habit of learning things together. From silly little drawings, to paintings, perhaps an instrument or two. You both always found a way to share your hobbies and passions together.
And it was the mornings, where these happened most often. Naturally Astarion couldn’t be in the sun but that didn’t stop him from enjoying what little light he could. You’d find him in the dusty dusk right before the sun actually broke the horizon.
He had been teaching himself to play the piano, so to wake up in the morning and not hear the soft echos of keys down the halls would be a bad sign. It’d be another bad sign if you didn’t sit down beside him, stroking the keys as the two of you played a song that was always in the process of being made and never done.
Surely soon he’d go off to sleep, sharing kisses and affection. You wouldn’t see him again until the evening, when the sun was starting it decent. Day-phobia was real in vampires no matter how much they loved the sun and he didn’t have a worm anymore to help him fight that. But he managed, enjoying every sun rise and sun set he got to see just as the world of night came and went.
Despite staying up all night sometimes just to be beside him, it was fairly often that Astarion would have to nag you to go to sleep. You’d barely have even one eye open, drifting back and forth between dreams and you’d still tell him, “I’m not tired, I’m just resting my eyes,” All because he was up late in kitchen and you didn’t want to leave his side.
He often compromises though, making deals and barters, “If I go upstairs with you, will you go to sleep?”
“…” Surely you aren’t going to say no? “Will you be the big spoon?”
“Of course,” How could he say no to a face like yours? And such a sleepy one too?
He didn’t mind, not really. Some nights he’d stay in bed with you until the morning. Even though nothing would get done, or things he had planned were set aside, he wouldn’t sleep either, he truly really didn’t mind. He could lay there for eternity holding you close and be at peace.
Vox x reader but its fluufffy as shit- like im talking hurt/comfort like full on motherfucker is down so infamously bad
((Ofc Nonny UwU Vox is a guilty pleasure of mine, so this was fun to write. Again.... IM STILL A LIL RUSTY SO IM SORRY IF IT'S NO EXACTLY WHAT YOU HAD IN MIND QWQ... But! As always, Enjoy!))
Little taps traveled down the lush golden halls, with a tiny fury in each step. Sparks and zaps and zips twisted from the broken wires popping out of your skin. The arm you clutched tightly let out fizzes and glitches and your broken hand moved on its own.
You found an elevator and slapped the buttons with your good hand then stared at the spycam in the corner, “Vox!” You whined, “Let me in!” Your high pitched cry was more of an annoying beg but still… It worked. The elevator’s door dinged and shut before lowering down into the catacombs of the mega tower.
At first some silly stupid song played in the elevator before a familiar voice came over the speakers, “What did you do now?” It was Vox. You raised a brow, a pointed and angry pout as you took a side glance at the spycam. Shameless guilt was on your face, as you caved and confessed, “It wasn’t my fault! I was just trying to get today’s filming done and that-” You stopped yourself and took a breath before you got worked up again, “Anyways,” You held up the broken arm and hand, “I need a tune up, and you know I won’t let the tech boys touch me,”
The elevator slowly lost its walls and you were standing alone on a moving platform lowering itself to a bridge. You didn’t even wait for it to reach the ground or stop, you jumped halfway down and started skipping along the bridge. With a new tune in your step, happy to have gotten your way, you gave a cheerful wave to the tanks full of sharks while heading towards Vox’s lair.
You first checked his room full of tv monitors and spy cams, he wasn’t in his Little Throne as he put it. So you made your way to his workshop. He was already there sorting through replacement arms for you. With your good arm you looped it with his and gave him a playful nudge, “Thank you, Voxxy~!” You hummed out, putting on extra layers of cuteness knowing he’d be annoyed with you already for interrupting his work.
“Mhmm,” Vox hummed, then reached for a robotic arm. You quickly pushed his hand away from that one, “Not that model,” You told him, “Remember? It’s got that bug that makes the nervous system fail,” He just nodded his head and reached for another arm while gesturing for you to sit down. You did just that, sitting on the workbench with your feet swinging back and forth off the edge.
“So are you going to tell me what happened?” Vox asked while keeping his eyes focused on the task at hand. He took your broken arm and first looked over the damage, then the hand as well. His eyes flicked up to yours as he added, “Or do I need to check the surveillance system?” His hands lightly grabbed you by the crook of your arm, bending it by the elbow to find the hidden port under your skin. He pressed nothing, just skin, but soon it lit up in the shape of a little heart.
You looked away with a pout, maybe the cute act wasn’t going to help. You huffed and rolled your eyes, “She started it!” You yelped, “I was doing the scene for this month’s show perfectly, as always, and the stupid bitch couldn’t deliver her lines right!” All while you ranted, Vox managed to run his finger along your arm and unlock the skin shell, uncovering the wires, blots, tubes and bars that made up your insides.
A heavy gulp came from your throat, and your irritation slowly melted to an uncomfortable uneasiness. It was still so strange to you to be nearly fully made of bits and parts. So was Vox…. but still… It wasn’t a familiar concept to you quite yet. On the outside you looked completely the same as you’d always had in your afterlife. Selling your soul to the overlord was the biggest decision you’ve ever made. Surely one day you’d live to regret it, but so early on into the contract you hadn’t found any solid reason to regret a single choice you’ve made with Vox thus far.
He treated you so much better than Valentino did to Angel Dust. in fact Vox tried his best to keep you as far from them as possible. You were uniquely his. Literally, he made you. Bought your soul, tore it from its flesh and welded it to new metals. And you’d be lying entirely if you said you didn’t feel something for Vox. It was the biggest reason for being his, you felt some type of way and he liked to stroke that ego and play along with it.
Vox gave you a smug look however, with gentle hands he removed the arm entirely, “And who threw the first punch?” He asked. Which was a very good question, because you definitely did. Called out and put on the spot, your cheeks started to burn different shades of pink and red, “You’re still a prototype,” Vox hummed. From what you could feel, it was nice. The way his cool finger tips tentatively work at the seams of your sinews. He clearly was putting care into each and every work on your wiring, “You aren’t yet strong enough to take on a co-star, much less anyone, in a fight,” He said.
He had never been cruel with you, or even mean. Vox could be stern, like now, lecturing you to do better, be better. But his touch was always soft and careful. Like you were his greatest work of art, his favorite thing to work on, and his beloved precious project. And sure, he liked the person you were too. It was just a bonus that you could make him laugh, or get him to stop faking his smiles for real ones.
It didn’t help how often he kept you at his side. Filming was really the only time you were away from Vox, otherwise, you were always near, always in sight, and never too far from reach. Vox preferred it that way, and, honestly… so did you. So it was a welcoming and familiar touch, his hands tinkering away, checking you over as to look for any other damage.
Sheepishly you laughed and said, “Well, at least I only walked away with a broken arm,” And Vox chuckled along with you. The girl you fought couldn’t say as much. You nearly tore her in two… She was just so… annoying! And you got so sick of doing the same scene over and over and over…. “I taught her a thing or two about real tears, that’s for sure,” Your snotted little huff and pout was back, though luckily Vox seemed to enjoy it, “She had it coming, and I basically won if there was even a competition anyways,”
He even agreed and said, “I’m sure you held your own, I don’t doubt you can’t kick some ass,” He then attached the new arm and started flicking and switching things on from within your hardware, “But I can’t have my little super star starting fights, or getting into them, or risk damaging the goods,” He smirked as he looked over his work with pride. Finally he snuck in a kiss and you felt all your rage melt away. First there was one on your cheek, then Vox gave you a quick but deep kiss before pulling away.
Vox then grabbed a new skin shell and snapped it in place, slowly feeling returned. The chill of his hands running down your arm, clearing off all the dust and fuzz, sent little buzzing sparks down the newly awakened skin, “It’s not good for our image either,” Vox added with a smirk and raised brow, “You’re my little super star, hell’s new sweetheart that everyone can’t get enough of,” He then fixed your hair, tuffing it back in place, curling it around your ear, “We can’t have leaks of you beating your co-star into a pulp getting out,” He rolled the sleeve of your shit back down, smoothed it out, and stole another kiss.
You could feel your arm again and life buzzed into the metal, until it heated up and felt all the same as any natural or organic creatures. As much as you like the coddling in his words, you tried out your wrist and looked at your nails, asking, “What am I, if I’m just your little super star? Are you trying to make your own fizz bot? A Vox bot? Whatever you call it, just some way to steal Mammon’s power?”
Vox smirked and pinched your cheek with his fingers and gave a little shake, cooing at you while saying, “To some degree, yes. A bigger, better, smarter one that runs off a human soul,” You pushed his hand away but he just grabbed your hand instead, pulled you off the table, to your feet, and gave you a little spin, “But for now, you’re just my favorite little toy, right?”
A little yelp jumped from your lips as he spun you around, then caught you with one hand. You could not lie, the way this man spoiled you had you hooked, line and caught. He made it so easy for the both of you to forget what goes on outside this workshop of his. He made it easy to forget he owned you…. He made you what you are now.
Or perhaps that part of the deal you like. Who knows. It was unexplainable your attraction to him and you honestly didn’t mind being his pet, his distraction, his stowaway. Whatever one may call it, you were sucked in by his every word and move… every single time. Besides, you could pride yourself on being the one that cheered him up, that made him happy, especially when Valentino upset him. You were the one that Vox poured hours of his time into, who he tediously worked to improve. You were his favorite distraction.
He moved you about in a silly little mock dance, an equally silly tune playing from him, “And for now, your job is to just stay pretty, talented, flawless, and overall perfect just as you are,” His wooing words melted your metal heart. He slowed, holding your hands in his while he then gave a smile, a raised brow, and asked in a way that wasn’t really asking, but rather telling, “So no more fights, and ruining all my hard work, right?”
You blinked up at him, still slightly flustered from the mini dance, and even more so that he held you so close to him, “R-right,” You breathed then gave a small smile yourself. It was a strange relationship the two of you had, it clearly wasn’t something outsiders would understand. He peppered kisses along your new arm and trailed them up your shoulder, leaving a few on your cheek as you giggled out.
He gave you a twirl then spun you off, “Now get back to work,” Vox’s grin stayed full on his face while you got your footing again. With a huff, you crossed your arms and gave a pointed look, teasing him obviously and putting on a bratty act, “I don’t need anymore distractions until about…” He paused and looked at his watch, “Five thirty?”
Your foot tapped a few times and you shifted weight from one leg to the other, hip out in a sassy look, “I’m not a distraction,” You pouted, then rolled your eyes with a grin to match his, “Six thirty,” You challenged him, seeing if he could push off the time and actually commit to his work, “I should be done filming by then anyways,”
“Fine,” Vox shrugged, seemingly unbothered by your teasing, “Six thirty,” He echoed. Vox then blew a little kiss to you, with spark and zap it zipped across the air in the shape of a little heart. The sweet sting of its electric shock warmed your cheek and let out a little snap on contact. You giggled and let your arms fall, a more cheeky look on your face and less of a pout as you spun on your heel and skipped back off to work.
Can you write an Alastor x reader where the reader tries to save him from Adam but ends up badly injured?
((Ofc course nonny! I apologize if I’m a little rusty and this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind but!! I did get inspired by the last episode and decided to rewrite the scene with reader there too :’) I hope you enjoy!! This is more of a platonic stage of a relationship with Alastor, something where he cares for reader but not like… ya know… together yet 😂))
You already knew the plan, you knew your place in it, that being down on the ground with all your friends. In front of the hotel you stood, not far from the others. While Charlie and Vaggie watched with wide eyes, you felt a sliver of dread work its way into your mind. The shield that Alastor had created was holding… for now.
And you could see far above like a speck of glowing sand, Adam and his bright wings keeping him afloat. The sliver of dread was momentarily replaced with rage, anger, and possibly hatred. You had to shake it away though, as within a moment's notice Adam broke down the shield and the dread returned.
It wasn’t long before angels came flying down once again, with a newfound fury to destroy the demons who dared to stand against them. Luckily you at least knew a thing or two about dodging and weaving. Spending time in hell taught you enough to throw a few kicks, with the stab of an angelic weapon given to you before the battle.
You’d manage to take down a few angels, all while still keeping a seething eye on Adam. The closer he got to the hotel the more panic you felt, and more so for selfish reasons rather than selfless ones. And with Alastor’s shield down it was only a matter of time before the table would start turning. Purely out of your own instincts you turn tail from the battle out front and start racing up the hotel.
There were angels already swarming in like flies, and you did your best to avoid them. Despite that, one still caught you off guard and managed to slam you to the ground. A struggle ensued, wrestling on the ground with this vile heathen, to you at least.You’d let out a yelp and wriggle, arms flying and nails clawing into holy skin. With you elbow you jammed it into the angel’s face over and over until you could reach you weapon and go for their throat.
The bright glowing blood splashed onto you, golden, while slick it escaped the angel and stole its life in the process. You shoved the lifeless body off you and stumbled further up the hotel. You could hear the battle above, while bits of rumble crumbled and flung to the ground. The building gave a shake and shudder strong enough for you to slip on a step and reach for the railings.
Your heart leapt into your throat and threatened to burst any second. The panic was a terrible and familiar feeling. It was hard to say, or even admit, but dammit you cared for that stupid bastard up there in a way. Alastor certainly couldn’t stand a chance against Adam, you didn’t believe a word of his boasting earlier. Claiming that he could single handedly take care of Adam and keep him distracted.
No sinner, not even the radio demon could do such a thing you believed. He’d been gone for so long as well, who’s to say he hasn’t gotten rusty? Alastor was cocky, and arrogant, yet still you were racing up floor after floor to aid him in battle.
The hotel shook again and you had to put your hands out to catch yourself in the fall. You still shimmered with holy blood as droplets fell from you while racing the last few steps. Another good shake and rumble had you rushing and stumbling out of the door onto the rooftop.
A panicked expression came on your face, witnessing what was before you. Though Alastor seemed fine, causal even with a simple smile, you saw Adam trying evade the dark tenacles that manifested to and fro around him. Adam may have had a sneer on his face but he let out a mocking laugh, “Ha! You think you’re tough shit don’t you?” His golden eyes met yours in that second, and you started to take a step forward.
Alastor hadn’t even noticed, he just smiled and took another swing at Adam, “Tougher than you~!” He grinned with a twisted laugh. While Adam took a few attempts at striking Alastor, lurching forward with his bass ax, Alastor was too caught in the battle to see the split second decision that you made.
You ran forward with all your might, weapon in hand and death in your eyes. You hoped that with your speed you’d have caught Adam off guard, but it wasn’t enough. You were able to cut the distance and jab the angelic weapon into Adam’s side but not without him reaching around and back handing you away. You landed with a thud on the ground several feet away, ready to get back up, but Adam was quick enough to kick away your only weapon.
His ax cut down quickly on one of your arms, leaving it hanging by a thread before he grabbed you by the throat and used you as some meat shield. Your own blood gushed like a sprinkler and began to pool. All while you let out a curdling cry in pain.
To say Alastor was anything but enraged that you managed to make it up there was a mistake. His smile was still there regardless. But he froze if only to listen to Adam bicker. With his hand around your throat, the air was running out quickly in your lungs while you did everything you could to kick your feet at him.
“Come on you edge lord freak! Not gonna fight now that I got this neat little trick?” Adam’s smug grin was enough to test Alastor’s patience and reasoning. The grip on your neck only got tighter. Wriggling there you could do nothing but listen and watch… in fear. As Alastor only grinned and took a swing at Adam, taking you by surprise as well. You were mere inches away from being scathed by one of the tentacles as Adam prepared to use you to block it, but instead he was attacked by another seconds sooner from behind.
But it was enough of a hit to knock you from his hands, and you thudded to the floor. The two of them were back in some kind of battle locked tango as Adam swung and swung his ax and only missed Alastor as he mocked him, “You lack discipline, control!” Alastor laughed, his voice ringing in and out of your ears as you tried to fight back the pain and blood loss, “And worse! You’re sloppy!”
You couldn’t see, let alone hear much more other than the battle going on… You just needed to rest… just for a second. The back and forth bickering between the other two went fuzzy, along with the rest of the battle going on around. That’s when you felt… something... At least try and attempt to pull you to safety. It was the wrapping of a long singular black tentacle curling around your ankle, one that was coming from the shadows and away from the fight.
Even still, above it all, the ringing of battle, the throbbing of pain, the muffled bickering. You could hear the distance snap then a visceral cry of equal pain from an all to familiar voice. Perhaps it was the last bits of adrenaline and endorphins. Or it was your continuing unrelenting nature to never do as told, and always do as you wish instead. Even if it was every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, your eye snapped open and through the blood you could see Alastor becoming a corner like a caged animal with a wound all his own.
Something primal in you awoke, something that wasn’t fueled by hatred or even really fear, but rather more of a rage induced panic for someone cared for. The burn was enough to push you to your feet, leaping with all your might towards Adam. You managed to tackle him down, using your only good arm to wrestle him to the ground, fighting over his ax, “You little shit!” He barked at you, “You just don’t know when to quit don’t you?!?”
It was Alastor’s turn to bleed and watch, and more helpless than ever before. His ego tore in two behind a smile while fighting the instinct to turn tail and save his own skin. Guaranteeing your death. Or, risk what little left he could do to save you. And even more infuriating, his deal wouldn’t allow him to do more than what he wanted.
He gritted his teeth and choked on blood. Alastor smirk only got more bitter as he chuckled to himself and muttered a curse, reminding himself to chew you out later if you both made it out alive.
While you struggled on the ground with Adam, while his fist greeted your face, jaw and throat a few times, you’d claw and bite at him with the same force. If Alastor was going to act, he needed to act now. So he got to his feet, holding his arm over his blood oozing wound. However, in the other hand shadows began to take form. He closed the distance and let out a mocking laugh, “Don’t forget about me!” His arms swung back over his head, “You aren’t the only one experienced with an ax!” Alastor cackled as the long broad long handle of a felling ax formed from the shadows.
Alastor chopped down with all his strength, eyes turning to dials, the large red X growing on his forehead. He flung the ax down with memories of dismembering bodies, however here he only managed to clip Adam’s wing, far from the glory days of his serial killings. But Alastor still had a skill or two left from then as he used the same motion to knock Adam back like a baseball player hitting a home run.
With a thud and a yell Adam cursed out, forced apart and bleeding from his wing he let you go in the tussle between him and Alastor. In that split second you felt a new pair of hands grab you from behind. Everything felt like it started moving in slow motion to you. The air felt thick, and shadows grew larger from every source. Alastor grabbed you with one arm, bleeding out as equally as you but still keeping you secure by his side, and using the other arm to throw the felling ax like a tomahawk, missing Adam by a hair.
Shadows started creeping in around you, misting and closing in on you. The last thing you saw was Adam’s shit eating grin before darkness enveloped you as you escaped with Alastor. Wind whirled around you but you couldn’t see it, only feel the cool icy bricks of the sharp currents. Lightless like a feather one moment, then the next you felt gravity slam you back into the ground.
The air was smacked out of your lungs, dropped onto the ground you let out a yelp as the world returned. Rubble and ruins surrounded you, dust fell and rocks shambled to the cold hard floor. This… must be the basement of the hotel… You thought. You could still hear the battle above.
But you couldn’t forget how you got here, and who brought you. Guilt washed over you quickly, you spun your head around and saw Alastor propping himself up against a crumbling wall. His ears pinned back, his smile all broken and shaky but still holding true… And some little shadow minion of his was shoving his guts back in his torso and stitching him closed.
That’s when you remembered your own wounds. Your arm… Quickly with fear you looked down and were surprised to find it also being tended to by a little shadow puppet. Which, honestly, you couldn’t feel anything from the shoulder down at this point. So pain or detecting someone pulling the sinews back together wasn’t going to be noticed anyways. At least your arm wasn’t a total loss.
Quickly though, you began frantically, apologizing, “Alastor-.. I am so sorry- I… I-” You felt like a fool, but you also felt a little angry, “I’m sorry!” You said again, “But why did you think you could take Adam on by himself!?” The little flair of anger was gone as soon as it came. Being replaced by guilt once more you hung your head and stared away from your own wounds, someplace random, and repeat, “I’m sorry,” You just didn’t want him to become a causality….
You kept muttering and mumbling away, you even felt tears ready to escape but the quick and short, “Stop,” From the other hushed you up quickly. Out of fear at first, you didn’t look up, but the slow troubled pattern of heels clicking towards you was enough to lift your tired eyes.
Still bloody but not bleeding, and with a limped pain in his step, Alastor approached you, his smile tired and barely hanging on. To your surprise, at first all he said was, “Are you alright?” As he knelt down and gestured to your arm. You were ready to be scolded, and even chewed up and split out… But all Alastor seemed to care about at this moment was if you’d live to another day.
The little shadow had nearly finished sewing you together like a broken doll, repaired and ready to play again. It disappeared once its task was done, and just to test its work, you moved your arm, rolled your wrist and waved your fingers, “I’ve been worse,” You told him with a huff, and a sheepish smile.
“Good,” Was all he said, which, you’d be lying if the empty look in his eyes and his hollow smile didn’t unsettle you to some degree. You didn’t have much of a chance to get a better look, as he stood up while brushing the debris and loose hair out of your face, “Go to the others,” He told you, “And tell them what happened…” His shoot started tapping further away again.
When you looked up again his back was to you. He reached down to his staff snapped in two, you couldn’t see his face but you heard the heavy sigh, “What about you?” You asked, he was still injured, he couldn’t possibly be going off for another fight…? Your nerves where settled only slightly as he reassured you, “I need to find something to fix this,” He gestured to the broken staff, “I believe there is something left in my radio tower,” He explained.
You slowly got to your feet, a sigh, a huff, then a nod of your head, “Okay,” You said. You watched for a second more, turning to leave but not taking a step, looking over your shoulder at him. A sullen moment broke into the air, an unfamiliar sorrow. And he stopped in his steps too. Mimicking your actions, looking back until your eyes met. He shared a smile, one at least more true and strong enough to spread on your lips. A second more was spent there, until more earth shattering rumbles began and the moment was broken. Separating you two once again, leading down different paths away from each other.
