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..?
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
As Allen becomes aware he's still got an arm looped around her back and her hand's still in his hair.
What a strange dream.. haha... ha... Stole all the height indeed??? How would his indigestion-addled brain have gotten that part right?! Bad salami?! ]
Did he..?
[1/2]
No she didn't tell him.Why did he seem suddenly so... uncomfortable? Was there something she was missing here? ]
Huh?
[ Oh, he heard that? Lux blinks a few times, looking up. Still a little confused by his reaction. ]
I'm not being serious of course.
[ Not completely, at least. ]
[2/2]
And yes, she certainly saw the long hair before, but its a bit different registering it when one's fingers are threaded there. Because the last time she saw him, his hair was... well, it wasn't necessarily short per se, but it certainly wasn't ponytail long.
That comment about it looking dashing? Really, she just threw that out there at first, not quite teasing him but trying to at least lighten the mood. But as the moons' light filtered in, she really couldn't... help but notice it now.
...He really did look dashing like that, didn't he?
Oh. Ah. That's not good, is it?
And they had... ah.
(Well technically she was the one who kissed him first, but that wasn't! Like!! That!!!)
Also she was still in her night clothes and well that should be the least of her worries right now but that certainly didn't help.
So never mind what they would say in Demacia, honestly that's surprisingly far from her mind. What would they say here?!
To her credit, she sat there, almost perfectly still. Her signature, however. Suddenly extremely muddy. Also a bit warmer than usual? ]
...
[ Lux say something? Maybe move your hand?
Nope. Nothing. ]
1/2
Lux? [ ...Was she staring? Did he have something on his fa—
—ah, hm. (Yes there always is. fml)
And while she might be overthinking everything to the point of spontaneously combusting and he's just became rather aware of physical proximity and a great number of breeches in regular decorum that while that causes a sudden panic-driven spike in his blood pressure... they're a great number of grievances you know he's realizing he really doesn't care a whit about in this situation...
...
Yeah you know, bollocks to all that. It'd be silly to get flustered now. It's not like he's changed his mind about anything and that's what matters!!
So— ]
2/2
(Because yes, he'd fallen asleep with his gloves on earlier before tugging that one off. Black waistcoat and bright red tie as well; you'd never guess he'd been dozing with as trimly composed and formally dressed that he is—but then he generally always is.)
But just barely and so lightly, fingertips fanned lightly along the rise of her cheekbone. The way someone might touch in quiet reverence— ]
I'm sorry, I didn't get to say it earlier.. [ —or with a light stroke of his thumb...
..to soothe and say it's alright. ]
But welcome back, Lux.
[ And like that, said softly with a mixed kind of gratitude... it's as close as he'll get to acknowledging the fear over the weeks that she, like others, would fade away entirely. ]
[1/2]
[2/2]
And, in a likely familiar gesture, she too smiled, a peaceful, albeit tired thing that played at her lips that brought with it such a feeling of fondness and belonging. Not bringing a hand up to rest on his as she might in other instances, but instead to lean gently into his hand, eyes closing with a silent sigh.
Contented. Like she might fall asleep again, head rested against the palm of his hand. Still a bit warm to the touch, but she didn't seem too bothered by it. Or, if she was, she didn't show it.
(What a pair they were then. He still dressed as he always was, clean and polished, and her in her night gown, a somewhat messy blond braid trailing down to the middle of her back. It was a wonder she even let him see her like that, not at all put together, but really, in that moment, it didn't seem to much matter.)
And opening her eyes again as he spoke, lashes heavy, she tipped her chin up slightly to look at him. Only then did she let her hand slip gently over his. ]
I'm back.
[ And a pause, her eyes closing again. ]
...Thank you. For being here. ...I hope I didn't worry you too much.
[ Because if the roles had been reversed, she would have been worried sick. ]
no subject
It'd be hard to explain the importance of that. How much it meant that she would relax and lean into his hand with a smile like that when a moment ago she had seemed to suddenly get so very nervous. How much that lets him relax and any remaining tension bleeds off his shoulders at it. Like in doing so they both might realize ah...
..this is okay too—and being at peace with it.
Acquiescence.
Although Allen blinks slightly at that, before shaking his head and smiling lightly. For being here? ]
I said I would, didn't I? [ Not quite under these circumstances, but..
The point—the sentiment—still stands, and he brushes a finger back gently against hers. ]
If that's still alright.
no subject
Allen, that's—
Opening her eyes again, her eyebrows raised just so, she looked at him then, her countenance shifting. Still quite fond, but with something else there.
Gentle, shining resolve. ]
I told you, didn't I?
[ That night in Caissa, their final night there, when he clung to her with such uncertainty, nervous and almost fragile in a rare moment when he showed that he might not be quite as together as he led her to believe. And that was all right.
But unlike that night, she did not falter. Certain now, even with a bit of a sigh.
It was different, she knew. But for someone like him, where home was something that was so important to him, somewhere he could no longer return—and not just because of the restrictions placed on them... Knowing that his home was not just a place, but with the people who he loved and cherished.
Finally understanding that.
Her smile ever patient, pushing the fatigue away to move just a bit closer. Not so much to crowd him, but to be present, because even feeling his hand there, spreading her fingers so that he might lace his between them...
To give a bit of space, yet remind him. Don't worry, I'll still be here no matter what. ]
Something like that would make me so happy. That you might think of this as home.
[ Not "this place." Because something like that could, should never be restricted to just four walls and a ceiling above one's head.
And for the one who, more than anyone ever could, taught her what that really was—gave her a home to return to that went far beyond anything physical... wouldn't it only be fitting that she offer the same to him? This was truly the only way that she could ever, ever thank him for that.
To someone who was more like coming home than this place ever could be; ]
Whenever you need it, it will always be there.
(no subject)