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]
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
"It would make me so happy."
Letting his eyes close at that... it's as much to let it sink in as swallow back the mixed roll of emotion at that. Happiness, loneliness; guilt. The somewhat unsettling realization that would keep gnawing at the corner of his mind every since realizing that in Enprise that sense of belonging, the feeling of camaraderie again with others...
...only highlighted how lonely he'd been.
(He didn't want to think about that. Not admit how not fine he actually was on his own.)
And did finding solace in it mean he was running only further away from himself and everything he'd sworn an oath to? For meeting so many people he cares and would do so much for, who have done so much for him... Is that weakness, finding solidarity there? Am I being blinded again because of how brightly they all shine? Because to walk a path as he does that's full of everyone and everything he's sworn a vow to... is that by default something he could only do alone? He presumed as much without even really thinking about it, ever since he made his promise to—with—Crown Clown. Mostly just because he'd never actually expect someone to agree with him so fully.
But then Lux had. And has. But she also knows nothing of his world and akuma—
...and never will.
And maybe that's as far as it could ever extend. The only way it could ever be. At least for a while.
"I think maybe.. that I want to exist in this world, too," he admitted to Lavi. And had been so surprised when the other Exorcist accepted and stood by him on that he thought his throat might close over and his eyes in need of a scrubbing.
(Maybe he hadn't been thinking at all and misjudged them terribly when he left. But then... it was for the better for them regardless that he had.)
And that's what made it okay, wasn't it? To be in a world where he could still see them, where he could feel like he still feel as he belonged by their sides and could be there, where his being around wasn't a danger to their wellbeing or (and it's a heady notion still) anyone's, perhaps... because it wasn't giving up on his home or replacing it, because so many parts of what he considered a home were here too, were still a part of him, belonging here and to this—
..wouldn't it be worse to imply that it wasn't such an amazing thing?
(For at least so long as they're both... that they're all here.)
It's why when he opens his eyes again after a long moment, it's with a very peaceable sort of expression. Eyes hooded to half-mast by lashes weighed down as if by a heavy snow, like someone tired from being on such a very long journey.
And being home at last. ] Aah...
[ For now. For as long as he can, before..
—before something he won't dwell on, and he just smiles and shakes his head a little. She moved a little closer and laced fingers with his head; he shifts a little the other way to meet in the middle so the space didn't seem like so much to lean across, touching his forehead lightly to hers. Nosetips brushing faintly for a moment and a tickle of breath just shy of breath. Like someone leaning into the most fragile, delicate—important sort of connection.
Thank you when it seems more he still can't believe, even if he won't bring himself to actually ask himself it...
...am I allowed to? ]
I think... [ Because this has to be okay, because...
...how could it not, when he's hasn't felt more himself—more close to his vows—than he has in so many months? At least in a world where he's been so far removed physically from them.
And it's why when his eyes flicker open again, a sliver of grey to fix on her blue, they aren't conflicted. ]
...that would make me really happy, too.