[ It's good to know, in other words, and perhaps he should have guessed it. Since their time together, Somnus has been cautious: he's only engaged with other men and strayed clear of suspicious drinks.
But none will effect him as his first week here, having experienced what love was like. It's hideous that he had been so captivated, forgetting himself and his duty entirely. ]
[ Even in life, he had never been an engaging man. Or creative. Writing this out to her is too difficult, though. This also makes him wonder why she had needed to contact him via this device, when he's physically present about the island.
[ Texting is convenient. Especially when she hasn't really felt much like leaving the house. But it's not like she doesn't want to see him. Neither though does she want him to worry... ]
[ This goes against how she seemed so dedicated to helping this world... but it could be for the fact that women have, rightly, more to weigh in terms of consequences of sex. No matter. They know now one can bear children in this world.
Text does nothing but make his thoughts blunter: ]
[ He's right, of course. But it's hard for her to own up to it, even once he's outright said it. It takes a long moment for her reply to come through. ]
[ For a moment, she just looks at the message he sent, a smile curving her lips as she shakes her head. It's not that easy - partly because she doesn't know the contents of his card, and partly because... well, she might be forward, but she's not quite that forward, at least not with someone she still doesn't know that well. ]
Let's talk about that when I get there, okay? I'm on my way.
[ When she gets to the location that he sent her, she looks quite different to when she met him on her arrival in the Nameless City: a different dress, for one, and her hair down for another, the usual pink ribbon left back at her own place, loose curls tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. But perhaps the most marked difference is how tired she looks, the hints of dark circles under her eyes, the weak energy in her smile. All things considered, it hasn't been an easy month.
She knocks on the door, calls out to announce herself before opening it. ]
Hi, Somnus.
[ She's not here to talk, though, not here to tell him about the worries weighing heavily on her chest, and so she strengthens her smile, holds her wrist out to him with the app open for him to inspect. Not as many checked squares as she'd like... and for a moment there's a worry that he'll be disappointed in her. ]
I thought it might be easier to compare cards, you know? Make sure that whatever we do will earn us both a square.
[ Just as the last time they had met in person, he first regards her with a keen gaze. The dress is new, and her hair, let loose into longer, softer curls, is different. However her appearance gives her away, for her fatigue is more obvious than anything in her messages could convey. Something ails her, indeed... ]
Hail, Aerith.
[ He, in turn, appears as he has always been: severe and somber at once, stoic and standing tall as a statue. There is no fatigue written upon his expression. He wears one of his white cotton tunics with a length, midnight-navy palla draped over his shoulder. That the islanders have seemed to adopt this toga-like fashion in the previous month has made his stay here far easier.
Approaching her, Somnus opens his own card to her. His eyes sweep over her device for all but a few seconds, and then lift up to her face as she continues to look at his required Acts.
Close as they are, the wear beneath her eyes seems ever more apparent. A quiet pause delays his words, almost thoughtful in execution. ]
[ There are a few things they have in common, she thinks as she looks at his card, and a few that would work together even if they're not entirely the same. She's just about to voice it when he speaks, and she looks up at him again, and as tired as she is, the frustration is no doubt clear across her face. Everyone wants to treat her like a princess, like she's something fragile, like she needs to be protected. But that's not— ]
No.
[ Her voice is on her lips before she even means to speak, and for a moment even she's surprised at herself. Her gaze drops, her hands curling into fists, and she takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady the wave of emotions that wants to burst free. ]
I'm fine, I promise. Gentle—
[ —would hurt too much. She's not sure how she can express that though, explain that despite every safeguard she placed on her heart, she's let it break again, and so she just lifts her head, a stubborn tilt of her chin, determination in her eyes. ]
[ Weeks ago she had once taken his calloused hands into hers. Today, he is the one to reach out instead, cupping beneath the both of hers. Here he uncurls her tightened fists with his fingers, his thumbs pressing into her palms. Whatever turmoil is expressed by her hands, he holds fast, steadying and saying nothing. This is neither the overture nor the prelude to the Act, for it is the last of the gentleness between them.
He leans forward, lowering his voice; with that lean comes a hint of a more overbearing presence, a slight push, a half-step forward, then another, a shuffle to move her to the wall of his abode, a strength and natural authority he had not used on her before now, commanding in silence. He drops one of her hands, raising his to rest a loose fist upon the wall beside her head. ] So be it.
[ Somnus can muster the strength to perform as needed, to distract as needed, but he doubts he will be able to alleviate the burden upon her heart. The sorrow in her eyes is different from the confession of her fate from before. This is heavier, somehow. Yet if this is what she wishes, then he will oblige without question. (His own card has that need to be fulfilled, too.)
Thus his other hand raises to her jaw, finger first hooking beneath her chin before his hand outright clutches it, forcing her face to his. His eyes cannot remain upon the sorrow in hers long, lest he lose his resolve for force. His lips dust against hers. The hint of her taste is familiar, he realizes. ] Bid mercy, should you not withstand.
[ He won't need to look at her sorrow for long; her eyes widen when he guides her back to the wall, a soft sound parting her lips before his mouth takes hers. The soft warning isn't ignored or unappreciated, but goes without a response, her fingers reaching, curling into the soft material of the toga that lies over his heartbeat. Her body responds immediately to the press of his, hips and back arching off the wall and into him, breath thick in her throat.
There was a promise made upon her arrival, one that her words alone are threatening to break, but this isn't the time or place to worry about that. And if that's the end of the gentleness, she won't complain. Right now, she'd rather focus on the feel of him against her, the taste of him on her lips. Drowning herself in him takes away the pain and anxiety of the past month. No, he may not be able to alleviate her burden, but together they can hide it, at least for a little while. ]
We both— [ the sentence is gasped out between the press of their lips ] Bites. Bruises.
[ As if to punctuate her sentence, she nips at his lower lip. ] Good?
[ She doesn't wait for an answer, instead pressing herself back into their kiss, breath short and sharp as it mingles with his. Broken promise or not, she trusts him enough to ask him to do this with her. ]
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[ Not physically, anyway. There's still that emotional pain with which she's struggling, but that's not something he needs to worry about. ]
You asked me to let you know if I was pregnant.
I'm not.
Actually it seems like women can't get pregnant here.
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tthese tidings are good
thank yu
[ It's good to know, in other words, and perhaps he should have guessed it. Since their time together, Somnus has been cautious: he's only engaged with other men and strayed clear of suspicious drinks.
But none will effect him as his first week here, having experienced what love was like. It's hideous that he had been so captivated, forgetting himself and his duty entirely. ]
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You're welcome. And thank you, too.
[ There's a pause of a few moments before her next text comes through: ]
Um, Somnus?
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He's not better at it yet. ]
speak
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[ Why is she asking. ]
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How is it convenient when I had to ask around to find out?
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So he sends this: ]
did you not wish to speak in person?
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[ Texting is convenient. Especially when she hasn't really felt much like leaving the house. But it's not like she doesn't want to see him. Neither though does she want him to worry... ]
I guess I've just been spending time by myself.
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Text does nothing but make his thoughts blunter: ]
wherefore
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[ It's hard to be in the mood to complete Acts when your heart is hurting, after all. ]
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Is she actually hurt? ]
something ails you
[ And if it's keeping her from helping this world, well. Now he has a reason to be interested. ]
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I guess so?
But I'll be okay, I promise.
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very well
this world requires ywhj
your aid.
do not neglect
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[ The first text comes quickly, but the second takes longer, held back by a momentary shyness. ]
If you ever want to work on a square together, let me know, okay?
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always i am willing
[ She did say she needed time, however.... but how long. ]
when shall i summon you?
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[ It might be good for her to get out of her own head, anyway. ]
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you are welcomed now
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Um... where should we meet?
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is suitable
[ Insert approximate location here. It might help her get out of wherever she’s isolating herself, anyway... ]
do tell which Act you wish to receive
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Let's talk about that when I get there, okay? I'm on my way.
[ When she gets to the location that he sent her, she looks quite different to when she met him on her arrival in the Nameless City: a different dress, for one, and her hair down for another, the usual pink ribbon left back at her own place, loose curls tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. But perhaps the most marked difference is how tired she looks, the hints of dark circles under her eyes, the weak energy in her smile. All things considered, it hasn't been an easy month.
She knocks on the door, calls out to announce herself before opening it. ]
Hi, Somnus.
[ She's not here to talk, though, not here to tell him about the worries weighing heavily on her chest, and so she strengthens her smile, holds her wrist out to him with the app open for him to inspect. Not as many checked squares as she'd like... and for a moment there's a worry that he'll be disappointed in her. ]
I thought it might be easier to compare cards, you know? Make sure that whatever we do will earn us both a square.
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Hail, Aerith.
[ He, in turn, appears as he has always been: severe and somber at once, stoic and standing tall as a statue. There is no fatigue written upon his expression. He wears one of his white cotton tunics with a length, midnight-navy palla draped over his shoulder. That the islanders have seemed to adopt this toga-like fashion in the previous month has made his stay here far easier.
Approaching her, Somnus opens his own card to her. His eyes sweep over her device for all but a few seconds, and then lift up to her face as she continues to look at his required Acts.
Close as they are, the wear beneath her eyes seems ever more apparent. A quiet pause delays his words, almost thoughtful in execution. ]
Perhaps something gentler upon your body.
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No.
[ Her voice is on her lips before she even means to speak, and for a moment even she's surprised at herself. Her gaze drops, her hands curling into fists, and she takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady the wave of emotions that wants to burst free. ]
I'm fine, I promise. Gentle—
[ —would hurt too much. She's not sure how she can express that though, explain that despite every safeguard she placed on her heart, she's let it break again, and so she just lifts her head, a stubborn tilt of her chin, determination in her eyes. ]
That's not what I need.
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He leans forward, lowering his voice; with that lean comes a hint of a more overbearing presence, a slight push, a half-step forward, then another, a shuffle to move her to the wall of his abode, a strength and natural authority he had not used on her before now, commanding in silence. He drops one of her hands, raising his to rest a loose fist upon the wall beside her head. ] So be it.
[ Somnus can muster the strength to perform as needed, to distract as needed, but he doubts he will be able to alleviate the burden upon her heart. The sorrow in her eyes is different from the confession of her fate from before. This is heavier, somehow. Yet if this is what she wishes, then he will oblige without question. (His own card has that need to be fulfilled, too.)
Thus his other hand raises to her jaw, finger first hooking beneath her chin before his hand outright clutches it, forcing her face to his. His eyes cannot remain upon the sorrow in hers long, lest he lose his resolve for force. His lips dust against hers. The hint of her taste is familiar, he realizes. ] Bid mercy, should you not withstand.
[ With that, he takes her mouth. ]
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There was a promise made upon her arrival, one that her words alone are threatening to break, but this isn't the time or place to worry about that. And if that's the end of the gentleness, she won't complain. Right now, she'd rather focus on the feel of him against her, the taste of him on her lips. Drowning herself in him takes away the pain and anxiety of the past month. No, he may not be able to alleviate her burden, but together they can hide it, at least for a little while. ]
We both— [ the sentence is gasped out between the press of their lips ] Bites. Bruises.
[ As if to punctuate her sentence, she nips at his lower lip. ] Good?
[ She doesn't wait for an answer, instead pressing herself back into their kiss, breath short and sharp as it mingles with his. Broken promise or not, she trusts him enough to ask him to do this with her. ]
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