Penny Rose [ Serah Farron ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rememberher) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pawnstorm2016-11-09 11:02 pm
rememberher) wrote in pawnstorm2016-11-09 11:02 pm
[CLOSED] Back to the world
Who: Lux and Allen
When: Slightly forward-dated to November 10th
Where: Petrosian
What: After sleeping for nearly a month, Lux wakes up to an unexpected guest.
Rating: PG I guess idk
Warnings: There is only pain here.
The room was cold and dark, the smallest glimmer of golden Chrysanth moonslight filtering in from her curtains that early morning when Lux finally awoke. Her head felt muzzy and heavy, it was hard to say whether she was still asleep or awake; a fuzzy, hazy heat settling between her eyes like a shroud. Everything seemed to hurt, and even sitting up felt like a chore, her body hot-cold and shivering gently despite her trying to will it to stop.
Ah. It wasn't this bad when she fell asleep, maybe she shouldn't have put off going to the clinic.
Everything felt heavy, detached and somehow very surreal, like she was both in and outside of her own body. In control of her movements yet somehow watching from a distance. Sitting up and pulling the downy white comforter off her, she swept her feet around the side of the bed, standing slowly. Not slowly enough to keep the dizzy rush from holding her there briefly, but pushing through it, she made the very short walk from her bed to the window. Drawing the curtain back slightly, looking down at the street below...
And stopping quite suddenly, her hand holding the curtain open, the lights from the street flooding in.
It was different. The leaves on the trees were gone, and a glittering frost clung to their branches. It blanketed the road, and the clouds looked like it might snow at any moment. It was nothing like the night before—it was far too early for a cold snap like this. Standing there, silhouetted by the lamplights down below, Lux felt lightheaded, that dull, gnawing ache in her body and heat between her eyes miles away. Was she still dreaming, or—
...The moons. Hanging in the sky, illuminating the street with their golden light, her heart stopped. The last that she saw them, they had been dark. Dread settling in, Lux froze, her hand holding the curtain like it was her only anchor to the world.
She had fallen into another deep sleep, hadn't she..?
The gentle coo of Berenice startled her and, turning quickly, Lux stopped. Staring not because of the griffin sitting there, craning her neck to see and getting quite ready to leap toward the mage, but whose lap the creature was resting on. Because surely she was imagining it, this was a dream, right?
"Allen..?"
Her voice dusty and hoarse, Lux stared, not daring to move. Why was he..?
When: Slightly forward-dated to November 10th
Where: Petrosian
What: After sleeping for nearly a month, Lux wakes up to an unexpected guest.
Rating: PG I guess idk
Warnings: There is only pain here.
The room was cold and dark, the smallest glimmer of golden Chrysanth moonslight filtering in from her curtains that early morning when Lux finally awoke. Her head felt muzzy and heavy, it was hard to say whether she was still asleep or awake; a fuzzy, hazy heat settling between her eyes like a shroud. Everything seemed to hurt, and even sitting up felt like a chore, her body hot-cold and shivering gently despite her trying to will it to stop.
Ah. It wasn't this bad when she fell asleep, maybe she shouldn't have put off going to the clinic.
Everything felt heavy, detached and somehow very surreal, like she was both in and outside of her own body. In control of her movements yet somehow watching from a distance. Sitting up and pulling the downy white comforter off her, she swept her feet around the side of the bed, standing slowly. Not slowly enough to keep the dizzy rush from holding her there briefly, but pushing through it, she made the very short walk from her bed to the window. Drawing the curtain back slightly, looking down at the street below...
And stopping quite suddenly, her hand holding the curtain open, the lights from the street flooding in.
It was different. The leaves on the trees were gone, and a glittering frost clung to their branches. It blanketed the road, and the clouds looked like it might snow at any moment. It was nothing like the night before—it was far too early for a cold snap like this. Standing there, silhouetted by the lamplights down below, Lux felt lightheaded, that dull, gnawing ache in her body and heat between her eyes miles away. Was she still dreaming, or—
...The moons. Hanging in the sky, illuminating the street with their golden light, her heart stopped. The last that she saw them, they had been dark. Dread settling in, Lux froze, her hand holding the curtain like it was her only anchor to the world.
She had fallen into another deep sleep, hadn't she..?
The gentle coo of Berenice startled her and, turning quickly, Lux stopped. Staring not because of the griffin sitting there, craning her neck to see and getting quite ready to leap toward the mage, but whose lap the creature was resting on. Because surely she was imagining it, this was a dream, right?
"Allen..?"
Her voice dusty and hoarse, Lux stared, not daring to move. Why was he..?
no subject
He smiles gently, palms sliding down to her neck instead—not quite to her shoulders—so as not to be quite so chiding, and his expression flickers. Something a little heavier but peaceable as she tries to read his expression, so obviously mystified. ]
...when I swore to be an Exorcist...
When I promised to be that no matter what—
[ How can he explain that, when she understands him so well but can't understand that? ]
..it was promising that it will always be this way.
No matter what. If we're the ones who are hurt, it's so someone else isn't. And I'm glad for that.
But even making that promise... I didn't mean it to make you sad or break my promise to you, either. [ Also because she wasn't there and literally couldn't do anything but... he doubts that would make her feel better.. ] Because we promised to fight together and protect each other—but because we fight so others don't have to, we're going to get hurt.
And just because we do, it doesn't mean we failed to protect each other.
Because we're both going to be hurt time and time again because we fight. But that's okay, because we're both doing it together and it means we believe strongly in having something to defend. [ Love and camaraderie.
—which causes a more fond and genuinely content sort of smile to tug lopsidedly at the corner of his mouth. ]
And because I have that to look forward to, I could never regret what happens. No matter what kinds of scars they are. [ And even if he's said a lot, the heart of the matter...
Well... more gently, he starts to release her to pull back. ]
But I am sorry to make you worry because I got hurt when you weren't there.
straps in.........
And moreover, that she couldn't be there, and was instead fast asleep and safe despite the fact that she should have been fighting. She was here, safe in Petrosian while others risked their lives—lost them, from what he had implied earlier... That feeling of guilt was almost insurmountable, that it was difficult to see over it. Knowing that it happened, knowing that this would keep happening and that she was powerless to stop it.
Knowing that she would continue to break her promise again, and again, and again...
There is understanding, Allen, and then there is blind acceptance. She was unwilling to hedge toward the latter, even if she knew (understood) that that might be her only option. And it hurt, that she couldn't stop it. That in wars such as these, ones that she was never truly meant to fight, she might lose those that she cared about. ]
You didn't—
[ Eyes snapping open, she stopped herself. Let him say his piece, this was important.
...Did he really think that he made her sad? Allen, it was uncanny how you could understand her so thoroughly at times, yet in others completely miss your mark. Getting hurt, that was a given. No, she would not be upset if it were just that.
It was that feeling that she couldn't help but shake, that somehow history had repeated itself. Because when she promised him that day that he would not have to bear another scar like the one he received that day, likely well before they met... That was the one she feared that she had broken, and it turned her stomach. Made her feel sick.
Feeling him pull back, she took another breath, a bit shallower this time. Slowly leaning over, she let the crown of her head rest just below his right shoulder, taking a deep breath. As if what she would say—what she needed to say—was not something that she wanted to. ]
I know that, and I accept it. I know that there will be times when we can't fully protect each other, that we'll get hurt... or worse. But...
[ She was thankful he couldn't see her face then. She might lose her nerve otherwise. A breath; ]
But the least I want to do is try to protect you from forgetting yourself.
[ Because to be willing to go to such lengths to protect others... That darkness he talked about in the woods...
You did something like that again, didn't you Allen? Throwing your own safety, your life on the line as a means to an end. ]
1/2
Well, she gets the honor of being one of the few people able to say something he was so completely not expecting that he's startled speechlessness. Because it didn't even occur to him... To Allen, who sees bearing a scar like he received that day, getting hurt over and over—it's a fact of life. We get hurt protecting the things we believe are important.
(Even in the cases where he feels he must protect them from himself.)
But that the fact he was hurt when she could do nothing about it isn't why she was upset, but that it was because.. ]
! [ Ah. Well.
Looking down at the back of her head, expression a little mixed-up, he doesn't have a response at first. Is that what he did? Forget himself?
To the point where she felt she had to protect him from that...? ]
...
2/2
[ Reaching for her hands after a moment, his expression settles finally. Smiling a little in a way that's both heavy and a little wry, and he gives her hands a small squeeze. Lightly apologetic, perhaps. Because...
..I guess I don't understand the difference then. Because maybe to Allen there isn't one.
But he won't say that aloud. It would be too cruel. Also also because— ]
Lux— [ featherlight. please look at him? ]
Having something to look forward to means having something to live for. [ And isn't that what she means to when she says not to forget himself in battle? Given..
.. given the battle on the plateau. But more important than that, the thing that makes decisions that risk himself hard, that make him rush headfirst into danger time and time again with a wordless apology on his lips even if it makes him no less certain of his decision—
(for the possibility of losing one's home and family and the grief it causes them)
—the thing she told him and promise they made before they left Caissa last. ]
Didn't you already give that sort of reason to me?
[1/2]
Even if it was truly how she felt. Because she knew, even as those words fell from her lips, that somehow he would disagree. That he would, in a way that only he could, tell her that she had it wrong. That that was how he was. How he always would be. Thanking her, perhaps.
And listening to his words, she paused. That's... ]
Allen...
[ She took a deep breath then, finally moving. Lifting her head as she looked up at him.
"Didn't you already give that sort of reason to me?"
Honestly, Lux should be elated with those words. That he felt that way. Yet... words hardly seemed to match with actions, and while she couldn't be certain, could never truly be certain unless she pinned him, made him tell her what happened—
Knowing that he wouldn't, because if she knew him well enough, it was that he would never directly do or say anything to hurt her unless completely necessary. That he couldn't see it the same way she did, and for most things that was all right. But this— ]
[2/2]
Something like this wasn't a thing that he could completely understand, so completely willing to make decisions like he had that day. Like she suspected he did in the forest. And she could never understand why.
"Having something to look forward to means having something to live for."
She couldn't be entirely sure what it was (she could certainly assume, and that thought itself was heady and dizzying and not something she wanted to address at the moment, lest she lose her nerve), but that it wasn't enough to make him consider himself even just a bit—
That he could still potentially lose himself so thoroughly that he might...
She pulled her hand away then, the one gripped by his ungloved right, slowly bringing it to his cheek, resting it there almost like a statement all its own. Her other hand gripping his left hand, the one that, were things different, represented so much of him that she both loved and hated, fingers weaving between his in a sort of resolute promise and apology (she would apologize later), she adjusted. Sat on her knees, level with him, and drew closer quite gingerly.
Foreheads touching first, then closing the space between, lips brushed against lips with a gentle sort of abrupt urgency as if to say:
Stop talking and listen and listen to what she's saying, Allen Walker.
(Color, just the same as it always was, but so vivid that they seemed alive, flowing from her like an aurora. Neither warm nor cold, but strong, buzzing with emotions. Frustration, a gentle tinge of anger. Fondness and a strange sense of longing even in that torrent of irritation. Fear.)
Not allowing her a moment to think of what she had just done, or to even enjoy the feeling of it, Lux drew back, forehead hovering just shy of his, her eyes fluttering open slowly. Her voice was soft, hardly above a whisper, and raw with emotion and illness. Yet her words were resolute, almost scolding. ]
Then don't act as if your life means nothing.
no subject
Let's be honest. This probably isn't something that should surprise him? It really probably shouldn't.
And to be honest it doesn't. It doesn't so much surprise him—more that it rather floors him. A kiss...
...and yet not quite a kiss at the same time. A touch of lips to lips in something gentle and commanding. Loving and rebuking both. Brief. Like it's a simple touch to get one's attention and yet not simple at all. This is important.
So much so that, in drawing a quick breath as she begins to pull back, he's almost convinced he imagined it, were it not for the tingle of her mana still there and he will only just barely force himself not to bite his lip a little for it. But honestly—
Honestly she didn't even need to do that to stop him cold, eyes snapping to her fully startled by just being called out that bluntly.
Or that perhaps she felt that strongly about it. ]
Lux.. [ Eyes flickering rapidly between hers. Left, right. Left, right. ]
no subject
Something that finally came to a head.
Allen, she would apologize for being so brazen later, but she must keep her resolve. Even as he faltered, she had to hold firm. And knowing that, Lux took a breath, bringing his left hand up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. Leaning against it not as an anchor for her, but for him. ]
You get angry at me for thinking so little of myself, you've said as much before. [ "Please don't talk like your life means nothing." ] And I realize that getting angry and frustrated that you won't consider yourself at all makes me the biggest hypocrite. I know that; frankly I don't care.
[ Squeezing his hand (the left), Lux let that hand, hers still gripping it, fall. Slowly she leans forward into him, forehead gently, tiredly rested against forehead. Her other hand falling away from his cheek to grip his other, holding it there as her gaze lowered slightly to the bridge of his nose. Looking down through heavy blond lashes, much of the fire had died down, leaving instead just a warm, impassioned ember. ]
And before you try to quiet me again, because I know you'll want to... This isn't about broken promises anymore.
I don't want you to stop being the noble, selfless person that you are, because that is something that I love so much about you. When a lesser person might curse fate for being cruel, when "cursed" to see humanity in something that everyone else hates; or retreat within himself when he is told to be a weapon in what might be a losing war. That, despite all of that, you can love and protect unconditionally even your fiercest enemies. That is something I would never want to change, because it is who you are, Innocence or not; Crown Clown or not.
But how can I be able to protect you when you care so little about yourself, about your own happiness and well-being that you would go so far as to sacrifice everything for someone else without question?
When you won't let me?
When I asked to walk by your side, I'm not sure that you fully understood. Yes, it was because you and I both feel so strongly about protecting everyone that we could, and easing their suffering. But more than that, I want to keep you safe, because you won't do that for yourself. Because when I close my eyes and see all those bright, shining people there, I see you so clearly there that it hurts. You, Allen Walker.
[ Easing her grip on both hands, she didn't break away as much as she shifted slightly. Foreheads no longer rested delicately against each other, she let her head tip to one side, eyes lowered and gazing at something that wasn't there. ]
For someone who seems to understand me so completely, you don't get it at all, do you?
1/2
All the while she speaks his expression is as slack as if she had slapped him. In fact, she may as well have to the same effect. Awed too, because... ah, maybe he really has been stupid, hasn't he? Maybe in particularly because when said "I don't want you to stop... being that person."
She'll feel his fingers twitch. Nervous. Flighty, lacing throughout his normally stayed and resolute signature. The spark of mana that's generally so relaxed in her presence these days that's so restless and cagey it's like in a whirl he might bolt and vanish like mist.
Except that she also said "I don't want you to stop being that person."
So he swallows--stricken with a guilty sort of countenance--as his eyes flicker between hers one last time. Ah.
Lux.
Do you know what you're asking? (Does he?)
Is it even something he could actually promise? When we're talking about the core of him that'll never change. Something tied to and existing because of the core of him--
...the him that she loves, the part that because it exists also is the reason for the nature of his she hates. ]
I--
2/2
Bollocks.
The only warning she'll get is when he takes her hand in his left and sets it aside. Gloved fingers just fanned delicately over her wrist like urging her not to startle. Please don't startle or be upset. Please give him a moment and try to understand.
Because like it's a simple sort of thing rooted in sudden certainty as much as it is terror, he's going to lean forward. And it's almost laughable how small a gesture it takes, how he only needs to dip his head a little to follow how she turned aside and urge her to turn towards him with the knuckle of his curled hand--terrifying that it's like following instinct even though he's quite sure he doesn't know what to do--to press his mouth softly to hers. Like some pledge or desperate sort of plea, breath shared in something so warm and gentle it's almost hard to call it a kiss. One that he leans into, as if with the very fiber of himself and wouldn't fear drowning in--
--and for something so gentle it's quickly swept in by such a ripped and ragged torrent that's the surge of mana (essence) from that contact. That gentle and what was flighty signature of his roaring to life in such a brilliant rush it would be like a wildfire burning white and is perhaps why it feels like there's a roar in his ears. Love, despair, devotion, camaraderie, sadness; the loneliness and longing of those when they're bundled together and held onto so tightly...
As, after all, Allen Walker is not one who... even would think to try and consciously control his signature enough to muffle or obscure it from someone. Except that he always holds himself back somewhat, composed and mindful--and right now...
...he is most certainly not. Not in a moment of wanting so desperately to say so many things he can't even hope to find the words for. "I know, I'm sorry."
"I love you."
(I'm scared, too.)
"There is something beautiful about it, how the power we lose by practicing magic and wielding the weapons attuned to us might be best restored by a coming together. By an understanding, such as this."
And yet... as he holds that kiss--and that intensity does soften after a moment to.. ah, be that--
..there is also such a lingering note of sorrow as well.
"But that's not going to change." ]
[1/3]
Words she probably should have kept to herself, Lux realized. Yet they needed to be said, just... Ah, she really was stupid, wasn't she, choosing now of all times. Now, when her head wasn't quite clear, when guilt and frustration held her in their vice-like grip. Feeling the way that his fingers twitched between hers, that flickery cagey feeling flowing between them.
That's not... what she wanted...
Yet she couldn't speak. Feeling that to and fro, how seemingly flighty his signature was, a mild yet equally uncertain panic began to rise in hers as well. Afraid she had overstepped?
No. Certain of it.
She nearly winced when he finally spoke, her head still lowered and eyes closing somewhat tightly.
(And this was where it all came crashing down, wasn't it?) ]
[2/3]
And again she couldn't. Why? It would be so easy, and really he need only ask.
But almost as quickly he too moved, not away, but toward her. Tipping her chin upward just slightly, she felt it suddenly and gently caught by the curl of his knuckles. Opening her eyes in a fluttered blink, she felt him tip her face upward just so, closing the space between with a gentle press of lips to lips.
Hopefully he would forgive her for the sudden rude behavior, for her eyes opened quite wide just then in complete and utter disbelief and uncertainty. How even as the feeling rushed through her like lightning, hot-cold and intoxicating that she nearly forgot herself in that moment, she somehow knew what to do, her body quieting. Eyes closing and body adjusting as she seemed to melt into his kiss.
Losing herself for a moment.
And where one might think her signature would burst into a flurry of every color known and unknown, it was surprisingly quiet, that gentle hum. The colors that made up everything that she was coming together, burning incandescently in an almost opalescent white. Strong yet lonely, light tightly wound around dark, both so deeply profound yet almost perfectly complimentary in their contrast. Reaching ever for something and, when met with his own signature, something that she knew so well, weaving between the gaps. Shining brightly through them with an almost tingly warmth that could only be described as feeling. Yet it was nearly impossible to separate one from the other; love, loyalty, loneliness, fear, uncertainty, conviction. A longing for acceptance. Each one seemed to shimmer like colored lights in the greater collective, a road map to the inner workings of her own soul.
While not the chaotic burst that he felt while leaping from seemingly impossible heights, it was still present all the same. More than it had been that night, more certain of itself. Yet unlike before, that light would reach out, not quite touching but weaving around, complimenting, illuminating.
And they say that this was the window to one's soul, and feeling him so profoundly there, that surge of mana and emotion almost overpowering, But she wouldn't shy away, instead losing herself to it, to this feeling—and to the warmth of him—bringing a hand to gently, almost tentatively dust her fingertips against his temple, brushing his hair aside. To try to quiet that torrent baring down on the both of them.
"I know..." ]
[3/3]
Yes, let's go with that.
Her hand still rested gently at his face, she moved far enough that she could look at him. Search his face even if, in the dark, she could scarcely see. Catch her breath. ]
...
[ If he expected her, stunned and flushed as she was, to have some sort of coherent response, well. Sorry Allen. ]
no subject
The moment he did that—the moment she reached up and touched the side of his face... it was like he could finally relax. Actually relax because it's such a rare thing for him, so much so that when she begins to draw back his eyes flutter open so peaceably they remain hooded for a moment.
Ah.
... no, what's funny is how when he was so uncertain a moment ago—he really isn't at all anymore. And it's why he'll smile to her, some very unguarded and worn sort of easy warmth in it, as he brings his hand up to rest gently over the one she's touched his face with. Sad-sweet, and so serene about it.
Serene and certain. ]
In the forest...
[ He's speaking so very softly and yet it sounds too loud to him so he stops for a moment. Presses his lips together and tries not to think about the lingering tingle there. Like realizing it's a moment where probably someone is supposed to not say anything and just let the world catch back up. Except for in a moment of clarity realizing the thing he couldn't let rest—
Because in the forest... the thing that made her upset in the first place; "don't lie to me", "I want to protect you from forgetting yourself", "how can I be able to protect you... when you won't let me?"
His being disingenuous.
In crossing whatever invisible line he did when he leaned to kiss her, to some different and entirely new paradigm shift of how everything was and will be, it also became the most egregious thing to keep that sort of thing from her anymore. Even if it might hurt her.
He owes her that now, doesn't he? And Allen Walker does not suffer a debt.
So he smiles. Gently in that way of someone who knows what they're about to say is hard, and squeezes her hand lightly.
Because this is hard for him too. ]
...because I was afraid I might hurt Syrlya, I struck myself.
That's why. [ Why he didn't want to tell her.
And why when he says that with such serenity now he meant that kiss as an apology as well. Just like the part of him she loves—it too won't change. Because of situations like that. Though even if it's also something that will never change—he presses her palm lightly against his cheek, eyes flicking downward even if his smile doesn't falter. ]
I'm sorry.
[1/2]
He had his reasons. She had to accept that. Had grown better about it, for the most part.
Why did she choose to fight this time? Perhaps because, gripped by that sense of hopelessness and guilt, things finally managed to come to a head? That, while she may not be able to stay mad at him in the short term, each transgression, no matter how minor, added to that ramping sense of guilt? That someone who she felt knew her so well couldn't be as open as she might be?
It was ridiculous when put that way. And for that, Allen, she was sorry. Her mind finally beginning to catch up again, she was was so very, very sorry.
Seeing him smile, another that she had seen yet not quite in that way, she forced herself to be attentive. To shrug off that moment of overwhelming feeling that had honestly been building up for the both of them.
"In the forest..."
Wait, he—
Sitting up quite straight, brows raised in an almost concerned surprise, she focused on him, on what he was saying. On every little detail that she could see, or feel beneath her fingers. Searching his expression for something, anything to hold on to.
Suddenly feeling as if she were sitting on a precipice, looking down, her heart racing in her ears. ]
...
[ A gentle squeeze.
And the truth.
"...because I was afraid I might hurt Syrlya, I struck myself."
"That's why. I'm sorry."
It was difficult, trying to keep a neutral expression on her face. Sitting somewhere between extremely guarded and not, she felt both sickeningly weightless and heavy. Frozen. Absolutely struck. Not at all dissimilar to that night in the infirmary, yet this was so much more personal.
He... ]
[2/2]
Her heart sunk quite suddenly, and a million questions began circulating around her head, things she did not want to think about. But most of all:
Why?
Again this happened, but it was so very different. He was afraid... of hurting a friend? Allen, what—
But his weapon shouldn't have been able to work that way, right? Unless he truly believed that he would harm someone.
What weren't you saying? What in Heaven's name happened out there? ]
Allen...
[ It was torn, somewhere between concerned and hesitant. Watching as his eyes lowered, even as he continued to smile that painful smile that she had come to know. One that spoke volumes in that moment...
(Don't press. Leave it alone.)
She moved then, shifting just slightly. One hand still rested at his jawline, held there by his, she let the other move of its own accord, fingers silently carding through his (much longer now) hair and pulling him to her. Rising up on her knees again and bringing his head to rest against her shoulder. Moving the other hand to hook securely around him, holding him there as she let her cheek rest silently against his temple.
Not saying a word but simply holding him there, her own light still attempting to weave between the cracks of his, as if to say:
It's all right. That's enough.
And more...
I'm here.
...And I won't leave. No matter what happens. ]
1/2
She's able to pull him to her so easily also because he's too surprised to react or protest. Because when he said that he expected more questions, maybe for her to get angry that he'd done that (he wouldn't really be surprised or blame her...), maybe for her to be upset and he'd be the one who'd reassure her it was alright—but for her to reach for him...
He blinks for a second. Almost comically owlishly. ]
Lux..? [ Then... she was...?
... ]
[ Ah.
Slowly... like it takes him a moment to make sure he's not misreading and it's an okay thing to do, he brings his arms around. To loop... a bit lower than he was expecting, actually. Just above her waist as she's risen on her knees so that...?
(So that he wouldn't have to bend that low for her shoulder.)
There's a confused pat or two along the dip of her spine while he figures that out for a moment. ]
2/2
... [ Laughs softly at that actually, just lightly and like somehow that's the best sort of thing—not that she's small, although he tends to forget that she's shorter than him honestly (and is quite little, actually), but..
Everything. ]
I forgot... [ And yet he sounds so happy about it...
And will return the embrace finally, with a small but grateful squeeze. ]
You really are a bit smaller than me, aren't you?
[1/2]
But then he finally moves, his arms gently wrapping around her, settling at the small of her back. And at that, she very briefly stiffens, because something like that...
Well, all right, no, this wasn't the first time, but that was a very specific circumstance! And certainly not something she had quite expected him to repeat, although that might seem a bit ridiculous if she really stopped to think about it. But he doesn't give her the chance, instead laughing softly, her own posture easing as he did. Relaxing into that joined embrace
Allen, what were you— ]
[2/2]
Oh he didn't.
"You really are a bit smaller than me, aren't you?" ]
...
[ ...He did.
Do you feel that, Allen, the way she leans away just slightly, hand still placed on the back of his head (...did her fingers just twitch?) and the tingly roll of irritation in her signature? Head angled away, her expression more than a bit irritated, she sits there for a moment before uttering in the most deadpan tone she could muster: ]
Really? You just now noticed?
[ Sounds like someone miiiiiiiight have struck a nerve. ]
1/2
And if there was anyone who could relate...But if there's one thing Allen's good at, it's knowing when he's about to have something horrible come crashing down on his head. So he pulls back a little too and brings one hand up, as if to beg pardon or urge to give him a moment. ]
It's not a bad thing. [ In fact-- ]
2/2
It's scary. And good. ]
Who you are suits you.
no subject
Had he said it that way, states it so simply ("I like it"), he might have gotten a more startled response. Even still...
(It suited her?)
Blinking a few times, she gave him an almost amused smile, eyebrows raised slightly. Really? ]
But it would be nice to at least be a little taller. I'm always the shortest and the youngest, it's a little irritating.
It's not my fault Garen stole most of my height.
[ Said with a bit of an almost playful huff. ]
1/3
Nope. Not telling her.
Although he does smile at that, heh and like laughing quietly a little at that. Ah, her brother..? ]
2/3
3/3
[1/2]
[2/2]
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