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skvaderarts · 28 days ago

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Petrichor Chapter 86: Soothe

Chapter 86: Soothe

Note: I have a doctor's appointment in like 3 hours. Why the hell am I still writing?! It's 6:00 a.m.!

(-~-)

It sounded like rain. The gentle pitter patter produced by the waterfall shower head that lingered above him was comforting, warm water trickling down his back as he stood with both hands braced against the back wall, his head down and his hair plastered to his face as he stood rooted to the spot with his eyes closed.

His breath was even and slow, deep and satisfactory as his mind drifted into thoughtless contemplation. Precisely where he wanted it to be for the time being.

V swore that parts of his body still felt where the blades had pierced him. That his skin still tangled from the cold of that pool of cursed liquid. That deep within his body he could feel the renewed presence of his most powerful summon.

There was no reckoning with everything that had occurred. Too much information had been presented to him all at once. It would take time for him to process it fully, to attempt to make sense of it all. And there was no urgency to do so all at once. There was much that he knew now that would benefit him in the future, but it was not imperative that he categorized every fraction of it at his earliest convenience. Simply knowing that it existed was enough for the moment. He would simply give himself a headache trying to comprehend it all now.

Deciding that he had lingered long enough, he reached over and turned the four-pronged handle that controlled the water flow, switching it off before slowly raising his head so as to not disorient himself. He had spent the better part of the last 10 minutes simply staring down at the floor, watching the water circle the drain. After a while he'd closed his eyes and simply focused on the sound as he forced his mind to empty, to think about something other than everything that had happened in the last 48 hours.

There was no need to continue to waste Sirrus’s water. He could think elsewhere.

He had no concept of how long he'd been in there. Originally he had intended to just rinse off, but the feeling of hot water against his sore body had been far too tempting to abandon with any sense of haste. But one could only imagine that the penthouse had a very good water heater. Surely the water should have run cold by then.

Reaching up to grasp his hair, he rang it out and took notice of the way it had grown slightly longer than he'd noticed before. Perhaps it was time for a haircut. Perhaps not. It depended more on how it looked than anything else. So long as it remained manageable, it was not a concern for the moment.

He reached over and grabbed the towel he'd remembered to bring this time and began the task of trying himself off before heading into the bedroom and putting on a pair of pants. It was funny. He'd backed so light that he was more or less out of shirts. He'd only expected them to spend a few days there, and that had been the case, but it had been an eventful few days nonetheless.

Waking out of the bedroom into the common area he noticed the way that the curtains had been drawn in the back of the apartment. It made sense. They were supposed to be laying low, so drawing the curtains across the large half-moon windows at the back of the structure made perfect sense. But it was strange to see them closed. He felt like they'd been open since he arrived. The room didn't feel smaller, but it just felt… different.

To add to the list of strange occurrences, he couldn't help but notice that Sirrus was missing. He didn't see him anywhere. They were going to have to do something about dinner sooner or later, and he knew that his companion hadn't left the apartment to procure groceries. The implication that they needed to stay right where they were had been quite clear. He wasn't going to risk being followed so soon after escaping.

Realizing that Sirrus was probably just in his bedroom, he made his way over to the door nearest to the kitchen and knocked, waiting for a response. But instead of beckoning him inside, the door handle turned and Sirrus opened the door, a somewhat surprised look on his face. He looked almost baffled to see him standing there.

“How are you feeling?”

“... Better. Exhausted.” The answer was earnest if not a bit simple. A small shudder overcame him as the difference in air temperature suddenly hit him. “Somehow still… cold.”

“I might have something for that. Come in.” Sirrus beckoned him into the space with a small smile. Tired as he was, he could make time for this.

It was an ample space, consisting of a darker color scheme than any other part of the house he'd been in. The back wall was nearly black, contrasted by the exposed brick with a simplistic modern gray trim that ran along the bottom of the perimeter of the room.

Once you ventured past the sort of narrow entrance to the room courtesy of the attached walk-in closet that shared a wall with the entrance, The space opened up considerably. There was a large corner window on the far right of the space that overlooked a split in the road, the curtains half drawn as a stylish lamp in the corner next to a vibrant green plant contrasted with the long butcher block desk that ran along the window’s rim.

Interestingly, the first thing that caught his eye was the bed. It was somehow slightly larger than the one in his guest room, but the covers were the standout. Incredibly plush and glossy, The black satin duvet looked like the sort of thing you would lay on and sink into. A pile of matching black pillows lined the backboard of the bed. A backboard that was upholstered with what appeared to be a heathered material. It was slate gray and looked soft. Not one of those headboards you would give yourself a concussion on.

It looked… comfortable. But not in a way that indicated that it was a place you retired to after a long day. No, it seemed more like the sort of space that was calm, tranquil, and intimate. Between the candles that lined The arched porthole window to one side of the slanted back wall of the bed and the gentle, deliberately dim lighting, it seemed like a space that was designed more to impart a sense of security to a guest than somewhere designed for Sirrus to sleep. And for some reason that just felt… true to him.

What was Sirrus doing in here, exactly? Certainly more than sleeping.

His attention drifted back towards the desk that spanned the entire width of the back wall of the room. A topic set several stacks of neatly folded fabrics next to what appeared to be a vintage sewing machine. In the far corner opposite where the lamp was lingered a cloth mannequin of sorts that appeared to have something fitted on it. A pattern that was being worked on. And on the back of the chair was a familiar green garment.

“I repaired your coat. The robe is a work in progress.” Sirrus said softly as he exited the walk-in closet. V hadn't noticed until then that his hair was wet. It seemed that they had both opted to take a shower, and he had caught his friend in the middle of getting dressed. His body was dry but his hair was a different story. His shirt was half-buttoned in the front, the length of his long red hair dripping droplets down his face and chest as he resolutely ignored them and focused on attempting to properly clasp the garment. Something about the sight was oddly amusing to V And he didn't have the slightest inkling why.

Something else he took note of was the difference in his scent. It was different, but not in a way that was noticeable to anyone besides him. He wasn't using a different soap or cologne. It was simply the way he smelled in general that was different. And he couldn't explain what that difference was. It was a pleasant scent, to be sure, but how to describe it? Musky? He honestly didn't know what to call it. Or why he even noticed.

“I don't think I've ever been in your bedroom before,” V said as he looked around the space. The soft dark purple rug on the floor beneath him was undeniably plush and it felt good between his toes. The sort of fluffy, plush softness that didn't walk over with age. The fabric was so dark that he'd almost mistaken it for being black at first. Sirrus genuinely seemed to enjoy a dark moody atmosphere in his sleeping space.

A soft, bemused chuckle escaped Sirrus as he stopped buttoning his shirt to look up at V. He smirked mischievously, a devious gleam in his eyes as he gazed over at his friend.

“No. I don't think you have.” His tone was lower than it had been. The implication was obviously that of a teasing nature rather than a serious one. V wasn’t blind to the double entender. He’d made jokes of a similar nature in the past. Still, when Sirrus said it, someone who genuinely possessed such affections… There was a glimmer of something to the delivery of those words that sent a strange but genuine chill up V’s spine. One that Sirrus seemed to notice, something subtle changing in his face as he seemed to silently wonder if his half-hearted attempt at seduction had accidentally gleaned the desired result.

V flushed slightly, a sight that only made matters worse. Sirris turned his attention back towards the closet for a moment, batting his long eyelashes as he blinked and reached inside to pull out what looked to be a loose dress shirt.

“Here. This should fit. It's always been long on me but I never bothered to take the time to hymn it.” He said nonchalantly as he handed him the dark gray garment. It was soft. Silken but not slippery. Cool to the touch and yet it breathed. He wondered what material it was but didn't ask, instead nodding and appreciating.

As expected, it did fit. V buttoned up the garment to the appropriate length, leaving the last few buttons undone on purpose to allow air to get to his neck. He wasn't the sort of person who could relax in a tightly buttoned shirt. Sirrus paused in front of him, indicating nonverbally that he wished to adjust his collar which the white-haired summoner allowed, relaxing his posture so that Sirrus had better access to his throat. Once he was done he took a step back to assess how it looked and a soft pink flush spread to his cheeks and ears, a blush that he attempted to hide by resting his chin on the back of his hand but failed.

Something -no, everything- about the way he looked in that shirt had an effect on him. The blush spread to his neck as he tentatively adjusted his own collar, breaking eye contact and looking in the direction of the narrow hallway that led to his bedroom door.

There was no playing off the effect that seeing him in that outfit had on him.

“... How does dinner sound? Are you hungry?”

It was V’s turn to be generous. He stepped closer, nodding in agreement as he did so but not bothering to answer verbally. “... How are you faring?”

Sirrus still didn't look at him fully, but he did seem to consider the question for around half a minute before responding, his tone wavering slightly. “I'm fine. Exhausted more than anything. Much like you.”

Nodding in consideration. Sirrus’s little innuendo-tinged comment has not gone unnoticed by him earlier. Neither did the blush on his face now. Perhaps it was time for a bit of fair play?

Walking just a bit closer, the space between himself and his companion narrowed to the point where it required The red-haired man to lean against the wall and turn his shoulder away from him, his eyes watching him from over his right shoulder as his hair draped in front of his face, inadvertently doing a better job of hiding the redness in his face then any deliberate action he'd picking thus far had.

“Dinner does sound nice. Yes.” As if to torment him, he spoke the words in a tone just barely above a whisper, the pitch of his voice a few octaves lower than what Sirrus was accustomed to. There was a deliberate attempt to not give into the humor of the situation from V’s point of view, especially when he saw the entirety of his friend's face turn unimaginably red. “What's on the menu?”

But much to the surprise of the white-haired summoner, instead of continuing to be bashfully tormented, something in Sirrus’s demeanor shifted. His face remained red, but the tinge darkened as he turned and made direct eye contact with V, his eyes boring into him with an intensity that made his heart skip. He knew that Sirrus wouldn't dare touch him without his permission, but everything about the look in his eyes openly betrayed his desire to.

It was not a threat. It was a candid display of his genuine desire. A desire he would not act upon for the knew not how such advances would be received. He didn’t want to push.

V felt every exposed inch of his body turn bright red, the hair on his arms standing up as his pulse raised. He'd never been so affected by a look. It was embarrassing, and the realization of that embarrassment made it all the more potent. Sirrus gently flicked The overturned collar of his shirt with the back of his I dex finger, the younger man's anxious fidgeting pulling it out of alignment.

V suddenly realized that he'd never truly seen Sirrus flirt before, jokingly or otherwise.

“I'm sure we'll think of something.”

(-~-)

Anyone else sweating in here holy shit. So um, these two, man… their test the water jokes are going to be the end of me. See you next Friday! Let me know what you guys think in the comments and I'll see you soon! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Bye-bye!