#i am now confident that i could write a thesis about them *bows*

[yuelaos-codex]

So uhm...

1, 3, 4, 7, 11, 12, 14, 17, 26, 27, 36, 44, 45 and 48 for Ylva and Heimdall eusbajsh

AHH THANK U SO MUCH MIKA 😭😭

Bro all these questions got me questioning if I knew them at all!! I had to give my whole ass mind body and soul into this omg

I’m answering this mostly with the timeframe when they were still together in mind!

1 and 26 already answered here~

3. What was their first impression of each other?

I’ll go with their first time meeting again as teenagers! I think it has more depth vs the one where they first met at the lake as kids.

Heimdall hated her! She was this fake ass mean girl (with oh so beautiful big blue-green eyes) who was trying to manipulate everyone into liking her. This was partly true tho. She would give compliments she did not actually mean, ask questions when she did not actually care, etc.

Ylva thought that he was a bratty, arrogant know-it-all that not even his handsome looks could salvage his terrible personality. (She was right.)

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

Heimdall. Since he’s very perceptive, he could feel if Ylva wants to hug him, hold his hand, or kiss him. They’re both touch-starved people, but Heimdall knowing that he won’t be rejected by her makes him initiate affection more.

7. How often do they say “I love you”?

Outside the bedroom? Rarely— as in, you could count the number of times with one hand. In the bedroom? That phrase is used SO much. Like. They get so drunk on each other that they don't even care even if it's embarrassing teehee

11. How do they feel about nicknames/pet names? If they like them, what pet names do they use? If they hate them, why do they feel that way?

They always use different nicknames! Heimdall would call her “Queen Bee” or “Miss Charmer”. She just rolls her eyes at him. Ylva would call him “Asgard’s Biggest Toddler” or “Pretty Boy”. The latter is the oldest one and it gets Heimdall going skajds. He fucking LOVES it when she calls him that. Like, they’d be arguing and shit but if she uses that against him that will make him shut up for a second mwahahaha

They also call each other “love” in private! <3

12. Do they have a difficult time when separated from each other, or are they fairly independent?

Independent. They both value their jobs and trust each other to make time for one another. They have the same threshold with regards to time passed before one starts truly missing the other, so that helps too.

14. Do they enjoy PDA, or are they more private with affection?

They never do PDA. They like to keep things ‘professional’ when out in public, with their titles and all. But if you watch them long enough, you’ll see him put his hand on the small of her back for 0.2 seconds before removing it or them chatting and squeezing each others hands before going on separate ways. Eir (Ylva’s closest valkyrie friend) once confronted her about this, but Ylva just answered “that’s how you say goodbye in greek actually” or something askujdhasjkldhn

Despite their extremely minimal PDA, everyone and their mothers still assumed knew that they were together!

17. How well do they communicate? Are they open with their feelings/thoughts or more reserved? Why?

Very, very open! to the point that they fight a lot lmao. Mostly petty fights but still. They talk to each other a lot, but they’re both lacking on HOW to talk to each other, which lights up their incredibly short fuses.

27. How do they say “I love you” non-verbally?

THERE’S TOO MANY BUT She cooks and prepares food for him when she has the time. Heimdall got matching ear cuffs made for both of them (she teased him by saying he was just too afraid of getting his ears pierced, but she wore the cuff nonetheless). If they’re hanging out by the lake, he puts flowers in her hair while she sleeps on his lap. When they’re both in Gladsheim, they always make it a point to eat lunch and/or dinner together.

36. How do they feel about having kids? Are they in agreement?

They never really talked about it. Heimdall feels like it’s natural to have kids in the future— that’s just the way life goes. On the other hand, Ylva is afraid of having them. She feels like she won’t be a good mother.

44. Do they cuddle often? Why or why not?

They sleep in separate quarters (Heimdall in the Great Lodge, Ylva in the near barracks) but when one decides to visit the other and sneaks into the other’s room (they’re like teenagers help), they always end up cuddling.

45. How do they support each other? How do they rely on each others support?

Regarding their jobs: They trust and respect each other’s abilities. Worrying a little too much is insulting for both of them. So they show it by letting each other do their own thing.

Life, in general: They rarely had any (outside) problems when they were together (their living our best life era™️ tbh). They don’t have the healthiest relationship and while they do communicate a lot, they do not open up or aren’t even aware about their own trauma. They don’t really know how to comfort each other with words, so they support each other through actions. When Ylva is down or just plain tired, Heimdall would invite her to the lake, read to her while massaging her scalp until she falls asleep on his lap. On the other hand she would cook him his favorite food and bring it to him above the wall, where they could eat Alone Together in silence. +++forehead kisses before they go back to work c:

48. Do they talk about their future together? Why or why not?

Not really. They were in a good place then, and they were just… living in the moment(?) The next step was marriage and to have a family, but they both thought it was too early to discuss that.

[jishyucks]

Their S.O. is an ‘02 Liner and American

Requested - First time doing something like this so it took longer. I tried to follow the ‘American’ request but in some it ended up being just English speaking.

*Italics: spoken in English*

Your parents are good business friends, which is how you and Woojin met. Despite having a big age difference, you guys got along well since you were kids. This is how you both started dating.

You sat on Woojin’s bed, browsing through your phone, as he sat at his desk, working on a mid-term project. He was constantly muttering about the different parts he had to finish, start a thesis that, write a conclusion on this. It was funny because, though you were in high school, you had no idea what he was going off about. He looked over at you and realized you were barely listening. Rolling his eyes he sighed, “Oh yeah you’re a child, you don’t know about this stuff…”

It was obvious he was joking so you just scoffed back, “Excuse me, grandpa, I do, too, know what you’re talking about.” You were lying. You couldn’t even understand a grade 11 math lesson, there’s no way you knew anything of whatever the hell he was studying. Something biology related.

“Then explain to me what this is about,” he held up a rather odd picture of some kind of body part that he had lying on his desk, a smirk appearing on his face. You blushed, embarrassed, “That’s… we didn’t even learn anything about that in America… that’s unfair.”

He made a buzzer sound and laid the sheet back on his desk, “Biology is universal, my baby.” You pouted and turned your phone off, plopping it down on his bed, “Don’t call me that, it’s weird.” Woojin rolled chair to his bed towards you and placed a little kiss on your forehead, “Baby.”

It was a random weekend and Chan found himself free of any work or basically anything to do. He was the type of person to grow bored easily so the moment he realized he had free time, he called the guys over for company.

After 7 unanswered calls, he held his phone up to his ear waiting for the youngest’s voice to ring through the line. “Hello, hyung?” Chan sighed in relief and smiled, “Innie, finally someone answered.” “Is there something wrong?” Chan explained to Jeongin how he was bored to death and he wanted to hang out with someone and how he was the only one who returned the call.

“I don’t think I can, hyung, I’m with my family friend right now,” Jeongin answered. Chan could tell he was truly sorry. “You can bring them over, if they’re fine with it…” Jeongin didn’t live far from Chan. They could just walk over and Chan can drive them somewhere. At the other end of the line, Chan can hear him asking his friend if they wanted to go. After a moment of silence, Jeongin returned to the call and told Chan that they’d be over in five minutes.

Chan didn’t mean to open the door as excitedly as he did but, well, he did. When he was faced with a you alongside Jeongin, Chan couldn’t help but stop and stare. He greeted you with a mini bow, a blush creeping up his face, “Nice to meet you, I’m Chan.” “I’m Y/N.” Jeongin snickered and spoke up, “Y/N just moved from the states, you guys can speak english to each other but just don’t leave me out.”

It was funny because you both clicked right away. Jeongin noticed this, too, shaking his head to himself at how you and Chan would get competitive at Mario Kart. When you and Jeongin had to leave, you had told Jeongin that you’d quickly go to the bathroom before you guys actually had to go.

“I think you like Y/N,” Jeongin whispered. Chan jumped and was really ready to swing at the younger boy, “That’s not true. And they’re your age, that would be… weird..?” Jeongin laughed, harder than he already was. He’s never seen his hyung frustrated over something like this. “Y/N’s a year younger than me.” Chan was shook, yet again.

“Let’s go,” you walked into the room oblivious of the conversation, “Bye Chan.” You weren’t used to honorifics, but to be honest Chan didn’t care at that moment. “Bye Y/N.”

Once you and Jeongin stepped out of Chan’s house, Jeongin proceeded to flick you on the side of your head, “He’s older than us.” You narrowed your eyes and looked at him, “So? Won’t matter in the future.”

Meeting you through dance when he was 14, Minho remembers being fascinated how well you danced at such a young age. You both grew up, going to the same dance studio as time went on.

It was the first time foreigners had ever gone to the studio because the main choreographer of the studio was popular worldwide on youtube. They were willing to learn a dance for a price and in return, your choreographer, Mina, was willing to teach them. The only problem was that she could not speak english and though language wasn’t really a barrier in dance, it would be easier to explain to the students in a language they understood. Learning this, you volunteered to help translate Mina’s instructions since you had moved to Korea from the United States and you spoke fluent english.

Minho watched as you shook hands with the dancers, greeting them warmly and explaining to them how they could trust you with the language barrier. They thank you and made their way to the front of the room to learn the choreo.

“I-I forgot you can speak english,” Minho whispered. He was somewhat jealous because of the fact that you were younger than him and you already held much more skill than he did. You laughed and playfully punched his arm, “That’s because I never speak it here.”

From the middle of the room, Minho fell in love with you all over again, watching you confidently translate for Mina, following it up with the dance move. He was slowly getting distracted just by you and the way you spoke with the accent.

At the end of the class, Minho went up to you and slung his arm around you and pecked your temple. Everyone in the studio was used to this sort of stuff, the only person reacting being a younger dancer among the foreigners. She gushed and squealed, “You guys are adorable.” You blushed unwillingly, thanking her shyly. It was unusual for people to compliment you and Minho.

Through Minho’s eyes, he could only understand a few words and he noticed the girl looking back and forth between you and him. He was confused and he turned self conscious. When she left, he turned to you and ask you what she said. You physically uwued at him and smiled, “How me and you seem like a perfect couple.”

Changbin was seriously taken aback when he sees you uploading a cover onto soundcloud. It was late night and you hadn’t noticed him walk into the room. When he spoke up and asked you what it was, you jumped at the sudden presence.

“Y/N? What is that?” he was curious. He and the guys had 3RACHA and soundcloud was a huge platform for sharing such music, but you having one? He was shook. “My soundcloud?” you gave him a sheepish smile and tried to reach for the mouse. Before you had gotten to it, Changbin already had right clicked on the cover of an english rap song that really wasn’t the easiest to follow.

Changbin listened to it, actually taken aback at how fast your rapping was in english. Though you were fluent in Korean, you struggled with the Korean raps such as the ones he or Jisung do, but in english, you were actually capable of rapping fast paced raps. His jaw dropped as his eyes jerked to you. They were wide and they were close to falling out of their sockets. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. You really did not expect this sort of reaction from him which is why you would always hide the covers from him.

“Am I really that good?” you questioned. Sure at this point you were fishing for compliments but you never had seen anyone’s reaction to your rapping in real life. “Are you kidding? I didn’t know I could love you more than I already do,” he breathed, “Just wait ‘til the guys hear this.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked over your shoulder to see the homework you were doing for online school. You had to read Macbeth as part of the curriculum, which was basically english but not really.

“What is this,” Hyunjin’s english was obviously not Shakespearean english and he wasn’t fluent at it too so looking down at the words that made no sense had him confused. “It’s a piece we have to read for grade eleven english.” The tone in your voice indicated how frustrated you were towards it. Despite english being your first language, William Shakespeare and his works had you questioning if you really were that great in english, “Don’t worry I don’t understand it either.”

Hyunjin nodded and attempted to read a part out loud and slowly, “What th- thou wouldst highly, that wouldst thou ho…. holily; wouldst not play false, and yet wouldst wrongly win.” You couldn’t help but uwu at Hyunjin’s attempt, “That was adorable, Hyunjinnie.” You reached up and squeezed his cheek like a baby. He tsked and swatted your hand away from his face, a pink blush creeping up his face.

When Jisung found out you were two years younger than him, you notice him uwu at the fact. “I thought Innie was a baby but you’re even babier.” He brought his hands to cup your face, squeezing them so you looked like a fish. “My little baby, beebee, little beebee,” he was speaking with a pout.

“I’m seventeen, you know,” he was still squeezing your cheeks as you spoke, lowkey muffling your voice. “Seventeen is a baby.” “You’re eighteen right now, Sungie.” “Going on nineteen.” You reached for his cheeks and pinched them hard enough for him to let go of your cheeks. “Owowowowow, Y/N~~~” he whined. When you let go, he rubbed his cheeks so that the pain would subside. Once he was done, he flung his arms around you, “And you’re tiny too, that’s just cute, little beebee.”

“You guys are disgusting,” Felix barged in, drink in hand.

“Piss off, Felix,” you joked, digging your face into Jisung’s chest.

You and were Felix were best friends, getting along well since you guys were the only foreigners on your street.

Felix held out the opening of the bag of chips to you as the commercials came to an end and the soccer game, or football in Felix’s terms, entered the second half. You both grew up obsessed over soccer, both bonding and fighting over it.

“I’m telling you, my team is better,” Felix gestured at the scoreboard, which showed 2-1 Australia. He smirked at you, crunching roughly on a chip. “Lies. The second half just started, United States can catch up and beat you guys.” You shook your head. You were sure the US team would win. They’ve been excelling this year while people were actually surprised that the Australian team had gotten this far.

“Bet?” Felix asked. You nodded, your eyes not leaving the screen of the TV. “If us Aussies win, you owe me…” he leaned closer to you and stared straight into your eyes, “a kiss.” Your heartbeat quickened at this suggestion but you pretended to be disgusted with his idea, “Hell the fuck no… If the Americans win, you buy fro-yo.” You guys shook hands, eyes narrowed.

About 45 minutes later, Felix was sat stunned, watching the Americans jump in one huddled group, their flag being waved by all the fans in the stadium. He couldn’t even make eye contact with you as you cheered your heart out at the TV. You turned to him and pointed at him, “Ha take that Felix, you thought!” Felix rolled his eyes and flopped onto the couch like a child, groaning out loud. He really did want a kiss… now he had to spend a good twenty on frozen yogurt.

You smiled widely and grabbed his hand, “C’mon, it’s fro-yo time.” When you tried to pull him up, he did not budge at all. “Weakling,” he snorted, eyes closed. “Not fair, I’m a child,” you complained, attempting to pull him up again. He laughed again. “You’re only salty because you can’t get a kiss from me.”

“Maybe I am,” he retorted. You looked down at him but his eyes were still closed so he didn’t notice. You inhaled heavily and bent down like the Prince in Sleeping Beauty, only Felix was Aurora. Bringing your lips down to his, you feel him kiss back softly.

When you first moved to the Korea from America, Seungmin was the first person who talked to you at school. He was one of the only students at the school who was capable of speaking english who was capable of helping your rusty Korean so you stuck around him a lot.

“What class do you have?” he questioned, guiding you through the empty halls. You slipped the schedule sheet from your pocket and read the first one listed down for that day, “English 10.” Seungmin’s eyes widened and looked at you. Were you pulled back a grade for moving? “Isn’t that a sophomore class?” You nodded, “Yeah… what’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t mean to be rude or anything… but aren’t you a senior?” Seungmin didn’t look at you, scared that he hurt your feelings when you guys have been getting along for the past week. “What?” you laughed out loud, “I’m a sophomore… you’re a senior right?” Seungmin was surprised. He really thought you were a senior, not that being a sophomore was bad. He nodded at your question. Though you both were from different grades, you hung out with him and his friends who were in grades above you.

When prom season rolled around, he didn’t want to go with anyone else except for you, only problem was that he was afraid that people, well mostly you, would find it weird that a senior would be willing to take a sophomore to prom. “Do you think it would be okay?” Seungmin asked Hyunjin. Hyunjin nodded, “There’s nothing wrong with it, man. Plus she seems to like you.” He gave Seungmin more motivation, which allowed for Seungmin to build up courage to finally ask you to prom in a simple but effective way.

Spoiler alert: you said yes.

You and Jeongin were on a date at an arcade, just a mini little outing for fun. Throughout the entire night, Jeongin had gotten into teasing you because of your age. His birthday just passed and now he was seemingly two years older than you, when in reality, you just hadn’t had your birthday yet.

“I get to go first, youngen,” he joked, playfully moving you to the side before swiping his game card to start playing. You knew it was a joke but the repetitive jokes just because you had been born more than a year later was getting somewhat annoying.

“I don’t understand why you have to prioritize yourself just because you’re 18 now. Being a year older isn’t even a lot, fucking elder.” you mumbled. Sure you were being a bit sensitive but you seriously didn’t want this boy continuing on with his jokes. “Don’t go all english on me, youngen. And a year is a lot. Just think about it. Three meals a day for more than a year until you were born. Imagine how big I got during that period of time.” He wasn’t wrong but that didn’t mean you were gonna admit it. You pouted and stood there, just watching him play and not saying another word. This was a habit that you did when you were mad and Jeongin knew.

When he noticed your change in mood, he sighed and turned to you, wrapping you in his arms, laughing lightly, “You’re a little baby… I’m sorry though…” He squeezed you and buried his face into your hair, “Forgive me?” You replied with a nod. Though he wasn’t looking, he felt your head move. “Good, now let’s play some more games.”

[phi-lophobic]

excerpt from a book I’ll never write.(75)

This is the third time humiliation coursed through my veins this week. I bowed my head in embarrassment as I entered the lecture hall five minutes late — a voice I’m too familiar with echoing across the walls.

“You’re late. Again.” I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry, assistant professor.” I say, loud enough for him to hear.

He sighs, “This can’t keep happening. Stay behind to talk to me after class ends.”

A crowd of oohs and aahs could be heard as I muttered a small “Understood.”

I took my normal seat on the row third to the front as I fished my laptop from my bag.

“So that ends the merger agreement between Fiat and Nissan.” His deep, raspy voice passing straight out my ears. I was paying him no attention, busying myself with checking other projects due on my planner.

My head shot up as he called my name loudly, displeased with my attention being anywhere but the lecture.

“Tell me about a recent transaction you are intrigued about.” He was being rather harsh today, and you silently grumble, thanking the heavens you always made time to read the news.

“A recent deal that has caught my eye is the merger agreement between Chevron and Anadarko Petroleum.” I confidently stated, eyes boring into his beautiful, hazelnut ones.

The corner of his lips were lifted to form a small, pleased smile. I could feel the whole hall looking at me, but I couldn’t care less.

“What about it?” He pressed further.

I shrug my shoulders, twirling my pen with my right hand. “Its the third biggest deal this year, valued at 47.5 billion dollars. And for some reason Chevron decided earlier today that they were about to terminate the contract.”

His eyes now warmer, leaning forward on the podium, and suddenly it feels like we were the only two people in the room.

“Chevron is not offering any counterproposals and will let the four day match point to expire.” I look at him without blinking, focusing on the way his eyes would flicker to my lips as I speak. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, allowing me to finish.

“So I’m looking forward to know if Anadarko will pay them 1 billion dollars for the termination fee, or if they’d keep the contract going.”

He nods his head a few times, “I’m glad you know what’s happening with the recent M&As out there.” I almost stick my tongue out to tease him to prove my point but decide against it.

Once class ends, more than eight girls stuck around the lecture hall, giggling and pushing each other towards the podium, silently flirting with the handsome assistant professor as I roll my eyes. I force myself to appear uninterested, eyes locked on the ground. He can talk to them, its his job anyway.

“I’m sorry to break it to you girls,” he smiled professionally. “I have another class to teach after this so I have to get going. You can come to my office hours or shoot me an email should you have any further questions regarding the upcoming quiz.”

All of them sighed out of dissapointment as they left the two of us in the room. I approached the podium, looking up at him with a pout, and I could see his assistant professor facade beginning to falter.

“You can’t be late again next time,” he runs his hands over his too-long hair. I was about to comment about him getting a haircut until I remember that I am still his student.

“I know. I’m so sorry, I barely slept last night and I fell asleep while working on my thesis so I woke up late and I — I’m sorry.”

“One more time, and I’m sorry, but I have to force you to write an additional page for the thesis.” He says, raising his eyebrows, challenging me further.

“I—“ I can’t believe he is actually doing this. “But I—“

He sighs, “No buts — it is clearly written in the syllabus, the one that the professor explained in the beginning of the course.”

“Okay,” I finally give in. “I promise I won’t be late again. But can’t you do anything else besides the thesis thing?” I look at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Besides, you’re my—“

“Boyfriend. I get it,” he smiles, “but I’m your assistant professor to begin with. You can’t pull out the boyfriend card anytime you want, you know that don’t you, babe?” He surprises me by saying, leaning in to caress my cheek.

“And how many times have I told you that you need to stop that sleeping habit of yours.” He sighs. Now that he’s him, by him I mean back to being my boyfriend, I lean over the podium, bringing his head for a small kiss with both my hands on his cheeks.

“I know. I’m sorry. You’ll still come over to sleep over mine tonight, right?” I caressed his cheeks as he leans closer, smiling and nodding a yes.

“Okay,” I whisper, bringing his lips to mine. “I sleep better when you’re next to me.” He kissed me once, twice, and then another kiss to my temple.

“Me too.” He pulls back, looking at the hall doors for signs of any intruder.

“Just be sure to study for the quiz tomorrow before I come. I don’t wanna be a distraction.” He clears his throat, not losing the sweet smile on his face.

“But can’t you give me like one or two questions for the quiz?” I wriggle my eyebrows.

“Not a chance,” he smiles. “You’re probably going to get the highest score anyways.” He rolls his eyes in response.

I laugh at that, muttering something about how having a handsome assistant professor helps boost my grades.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?” He sweetly said. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you in class earlier.”

I nod understandingly, “You don’t have to apologise. You’re my assistant professor.”

“I know. I just feel bad after I do it,” he said with a cute pout, and I tightened my grip on my backpack before kissing him one last time.

“See you tonight, assistant professor.”

He laughs in response, and I swear that’s the only voice I wanted to spend my whole life listening to.

—

excerpts 1-74

a/n: let me know what other things you wanna see me write☺️ as always, thank you for reading!

[letmebeallyours]

An Unexpected Visitor

It had been an unremarkable day. Charles and Henry were in the library, reading and chatting at intervals. The first time Henry’s phone started ringing, he ignored it. He usually did—he hated talking on the phone. But when it started again just a minute later, Henry grudgingly pulled it from his bag. Charles noticed how quickly the annoyance in his features was replaced by confusion as he glanced at the name on the screen. He answered it. “Hello?” Glancing up from his book again, Charles watched the bewilderment on Henry’s face increase as he listened to whoever was on the other end. “You’re not serious—where?—No, I’m in the library—No, just wait where you are, I’ll come meet you—Yeah, yeah I’m leaving now, I’ll be right there.” Henry set the phone down and stared at it, as if he couldn’t believe that conversation had just happened. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah…yeah, it’s just…an unexpected visitor. I’d better go find him before he gets into anything.” As Henry began to pack his things, Charles asked if he was sure he was okay. That stunned look still had not left his face. “I just can’t believe he’s here. I can’t believe he didn’t even tell me he was coming.” “Who?” “Someone I met in Germany. I’ll tell you about it later—or maybe he’ll stay for dinner and you can meet him yourself.” So they said goodbye and Charles went back to work, not bothering himself about Henry’s little mystery. By the time he got back to the apartment he had forgotten it entirely; he was going over the details of the particularly complex trial he’d been reading about in his head again and had no room for anything else. So when he entered the apartment, he was surprised to find a complete stranger in the kitchen, telling Henry a story in German while he stirred something on the stove. He broke off when he saw Charles, and came bounding over to shake his hand. “Guten Abend! So sorry about the short notice, but I was passing through and I just had to see Longo again. I’m Sam Ward, by the way.” His enthusiasm was infectious and Charles found himself grinning as he said it was a pleasure and introduced himself. Then he turned to Henry and raised an eyebrow as he asked, “Longo?” Henry opened his mouth to reply, but Sam, back at the stove again, beat him to it. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a nickname for you too before the night is out.” “And do you have any nicknames?” “Dozens of them,” Sam laughed. “But you’re welcome to give me more if any occur to you.” Having said this, he opened the oven door and peered inside. “Ah, beautiful! It’ll be just another minute.” Charles wanted to ask how exactly the guest came to be cooking dinner in their apartment, but Sam gave off such an aura of confidence and amiability that he seemed to belong there—it felt natural to watch him finish off the sauce and remove some vegetable from a steamer Charles wasn’t sure he’d even known was in the building. As Charles helped Henry set the table, Sam picked up the thread of the story he’d been telling when Charles had come in—in English this time. It was about some girl he’d known in Paris. And for once, on hearing that city mentioned, he did not interrupt. He decided he could wait to ask Sam about his travels in Europe; there was something so spellbinding about the way he spoke that Charles could not bring himself to break the rhythm. The story concluded as Sam finished plating his efforts and laid them on the table with a surprising grace and gentility. But he did not give up the stage just yet. He pulled a large bottle of wine, with an elegant bow around the neck, from a bag on the counter. “A gift,” he announced, with a dramatic flourish of his hand, “for my gracious hosts.” He kept a straight face as he said this, but his eyes sparkled so vibrantly that Charles thought he must be laughing at his own solemnity. As he uncorked the bottle and poured for them, he began to ask Charles questions about himself. A few minutes later, having tasted Sam’s meal, Charles cut off that thread of conversation. “This is amazing. I didn’t know salmon could taste this good.” “It’s the lemon. No one ever gives the lemon enough credit.” “Are you a culinary student?” “Not in a scholarly sense, but it’s a mistake not to be in a practical way.” “Where did you learn to cook?” “Oh,” he waved his hand airily, “here and there.” “You’ll never get it out of him,” Henry observed. “Our Sambo is an enigma. If he doesn’t want to tell you, you’ll never know.” Charles didn’t question the phrase “our Sambo”—like everything else about him, it felt right. “My dear Longo,” he smiled back, “if there’s ever anything you want from me, you need only ask.” “Does that include the recipe for this sauce?” “Alas, that’s not mine to give.” Sam adopted a woebegone expression, but he could not keep his grin at bay for long. “But maybe I will anyway.” “So if not cooking, what do you study?” “Music—art—people. Everything I can. I am a student of life itself.” “He’s working on a mathematical thesis at some university in southern Germany.” Henry clarified. “Oh,” Charles was surprised that someone so lively was getting a degree in math of all things. He was almost disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to ask Sam anything meaningful about his field—he never pretended to know anything about mathematics—but then he felt there would never be a shortage of conversational topics with a man like him. “It’s not really studying,” Sam protested. “It’s just writing down a few thoughts to get a shiny piece of paper my father can show off to his friends.” And then, as if trying to cover up his lapse of optimism and enthusiasm, he rushed to add, “Now the biology degree I got in Paris—that was worth every moment.” And so at last Charles got to ask him about his time there and share some stories of his own. They traded notes on Berlin and London as well, with Henry occasionally pitching in. It kept them occupied for hours until Henry finally declared he had to go to bed. Sam seemed sorry to lose him, watching him wistfully as he disappeared into his room after bringing out spare blankets for Sam to sleep on the couch. But the blankets remained untouched for another hour or two as Charles and Sam continued talking long into the night.

[acekatherineplumber]

Question Time!

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? My mom? NO. 2. You talked to an ex today, correct? I did not. I don’t think I’m on speaking terms with most of my exes. There’s one I’m still friends with, but I didn’t talk to her today. I actually haven’t talked to her in a while. I should! 3. Have you taken someone’s virginity? I have not. 4. Is trust a big issue for you? Yes 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? I don’t like anyone. I don’t have time for that sort of thing at the moment. I’m also not stable enough. I’m working on that. 6. What are you excited for? My meeting with my thesis adviser this week 7. What happened tonight? After my afternoon class, I found out that my evening class was cancelled, I cooked dinner, ate, washed the dishes, did homework, and went to future educators club. Now I’m back in my house and hanging out on Tumblr. 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? I think it’s disgusting when anyone gets really wasted. There are better things to do. 9. Is confidence cute? A reasonable amount is. 10. What is the last beverage you had? Water 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? Not many. My father and my thesis advisor come to mind, but not really anyone else. 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? I think I do. I don’t wear them. 13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Homework most likely. 14. What are you going to spend money on next? No idea. Probably food? 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? Nope. She’s a cunt. 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? I think everyone changes in little ways every day. 17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? My thesis adviser. He’s literally the greatest and one of the only people who knows what’s really going on concerning my mental health. 18. The last time you felt broken? The end of January. I had a medical scare, and I really hit rock bottom. 19. Have you had sex today? No. 20. Are you starting to realize anything? That I’m a lot tougher than I ever realized. 21. Are you in a good mood? I wouldn’t say I’m in a good mood or a bad mood. Mostly, I’m just tired. 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? No thank you. I like them, but I don’t want to swim with them. 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? No. 24. What do you want right this second? Peace. 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? I don’t like anyone at the moment. 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? Yes 27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? No 28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? The Kingsman/Mamma Mia video 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? Not right now. I’m doing okay. 30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? I would like to believe so, but I know the answer is no. 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? I think the last “boy” I talked to today was my professor, so no. 32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? I don’t have feelings for anyone. 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? I hate soda. It’s gross. 34. Listening to? Currently nothing. 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? I do! I write in pencil in my planner, because things change all the time, and I don’t really like to scratch things out. It gets messy. 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? I’m not sure. Baltimore, probably. I don’t care where she is. 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? No. 38. Who did you last call? My mom. 39. Who was the last person you danced with? My ex, I think. 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? I thought I loved her. 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? I don’t remember. I don’t like cake. 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? No. I live two hours away from them. 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? Oh, dozens of times. Love makes people act like idiots all the time. 44. Do you tan in the nude? I don’t tan at all. I burn like nobody’s business. 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? Absolutely. 46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? No. 47. Who was the last person to call you? My dad. 48. Do you sing in the shower? No 49. Do you dance in the car? Yes 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? Yes 51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? Senior year of high school 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? Yes, but not all of them. Bring on the cheesy musicals! 53. Is Christmas stressful? VERY. I don’t really like it. The only good part is decorating the tree. 54. Ever eat a pierogi? Yes 55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Apple. I have a can of apple pie filling in my refrigerator. 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Ballerina, author, spy. 57. Do you believe in ghosts? I’ve seen ghosts 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Maybe? I honestly don’t know. 59. Take a vitamin daily? Yes. Lots. My therapist wants me on them. 60. Wear slippers? Sometimes 61. Wear a bath robe? Yes. 62. What do you wear to bed? It depends. Sometimes pajamas, sometimes leggings and a t-shirt, sometimes a bathrobe, sometimes my clothes from that day, sometimes nothing. 63. First concert? I haven’t been to one 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? TARGET. 65. Nike or Adidas? Nike 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? Cheetos, although I don’t eat either 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Sunflower seeds. I actually don’t like peanuts themselves, although I like peanut butter 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? Currently, Getaway Car or Gorgeous 69. Ever take dance lessons? Yes 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? Whatever makes her happy. We’ll be poor as fuck, but we’ll be happy. 71. Can you curl your tongue? Yes 72. Ever won a spelling bee? No, but I spell quite well. 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? Yes 74. What is your favorite book? LES MIS 75. Do you study better with or without music? Without 76. Regularly burn incense? No. I hate incense. 77. Ever been in love? Unfortunately. 78. Who would you like to see in concert? Taylor Swift 79. What was the last concert you saw? I haven’t been to a concert. 80. Hot tea or cold tea? It depends on my mood. Usually room temperature with a tea bag and tap water. I know, I’m a heathen. 81. Tea or coffee? Tea. or straight espresso. Nothing in between. I am learning to like iced coffee with soy milk and caramel syrup though. I love straight espresso and drink 4 shots before class at least once a week. 82. Favorite type of cookie? Thin mint. 83. Can you swim well? Reasonably well 84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yes 85. Are you patient? I’m working on it 86. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ 87. Ever won a contest? Not that I can remember 88. Ever have plastic surgery? No. I would like to, but I don’t think I’m going to do it. There are better uses for that money. 89. Which are better black or green olives? Green olives from the south of France. 90. Opinions on sex before marriage? I think it’s fine.  91. Best room for a fireplace? Family/living room 92. Do you want to get married Yes!

[dankokaji]

[FFX -Will-] Quatervois (FF Kissing Battle 2017) (Baralai/Yuna)

Written for seventhe’s Final Fantasy Kissing Battle 2017 on livejournal.

Prompt: Baralai/Yuna, many paths to the same destination

@lifeofkj this is for you, 

as you continue to inspire me with your stories

Rating: PG

Warnings: Spoilers for FFX-2.5 novel

Word Count: 3647

Yuna’s hand hovers over his door, her knuckles just shy of the knock. She had woken up from a fitful nightmare no more than a couple of hours after she had decided to try at sleep. The events of last week still plague her mind, of Sin’s beckoned return and the inevitable shadow it casts.

Sighing, she drops her hand, and folds her arms. ‘What am I doing here…?’

Yuna left the comfort and safety of her home island to visit Bevelle on a fool’s errand, concerned by Tidus’s ailing health; in the end, she let herself be carried away by the Council’s plight. How Baralai manages to maintain his calm, even during moments of extreme stress, Yuna does not know, but she envies him for his initiative.

While everyone had been reduced to a mindless panic over Sin, Baralai acted quick to dispatch his Senders, banishing it within the first hour of its conception. Confidence and resolve raises his shoulders, instead of burdens them. Less people are calling upon the High Summoner now, hailing the Chancellor as their new hero. She can’t blame them, not when she sees how he throws himself into the heart of social media as the icon of progressive politics. Baralai shines so brilliantly in the limelight that it repels her, casting light over the shadows in her heart.

‘How can I face him?’

Yuna thought they had managed to come to an understanding, despite her persistent cold shoulder to his repeated summons. Their personal interests and private associations are always at conflict, and as always, Baralai never holds it against her, even while they stand at a crossroads, in which she had been the one to conjure it. Sometimes she wonders what that man sees in their fragile, complicated friendship; that being the least of her problems. Being here in Guadosalam, so far away from everything from the events of last week, makes it easy to forget it ever even happened. Pushing Tidus away by ending their relationship, surviving the invasion of Sin, hosting a vigil of all the lives lost― she thought that had been the end of it, at least for awhile.

But Baralai had to prove her wrong.

She bolted, at the high point of the meeting, right when he highlighted the primary causes of the Beckoning phenomena. He cited her actions, vanquishing Sin and then disassembling Vegnagun, as the two catalysts for the Farplane’s imbalance. After the dissolution of the Summoners, no one saw the point of continuing the Sending rites, therefore the pyreflies had no guide to usher them to the Farplane, thus overflowing the surface world with more fiends. Add Vegnagun and its leech of the Farplane’s energy to fuel its cannon, no wonder Spira wound up like this.

And then Baralai proceeds to flip that argument on its head, stressing the importance of Summoners and refuting the memory of Beclem’s cruel words.

“We need Summoners more than ever. They are responsible for recycling the energy that flows in our world, ushering the pyreflies of the deceased to rest within the Farplane. It was a grave mistake to believe Summoners are irrelevant then, and now we are paying for that ignorance in light of the Beckoning epidemic.”

Yuna felt shame, fear, and frustration all at the same time, the fact that she were to blame when she only did what she believed had been right. No one could have predicted this kind of turnout... not unless you were a suicidal psychopath the likes of Seymour. If Baralai’s statement were to leave that room, the people of Spira may turn on her, the leader of an unpopular organization of scapegoats. For that reason, she had been avoiding Baralai all day, brushing off Tromell and Kurgum's fretting concern, and Wakka and Paine's insufferable looks. But by the end of the day, she knew. Baralai never outright attacked her, only provided an objective thesis. His ability to separate his emotions from his profession, she wants to know his secret, because she can't do it, not anymore.

'Enough is enough. If I don't talk to him now, I'll never get around to it.' As much as she wants to avoid this, she must, and so she knocks, and she waits.

For a fleeting moment, she wonders: 'Is he asleep?' A part of her prays that he is, so she could use that as an excuse not to face him, but then she hears his voice answer, dashing her fickle, delirious hope to ashes.

“...come in.”

Yuna takes a deep breath, rewraps the cotton robe around her frame, and twists the doorknob, slipping inside. She finds him seated at a coffee table with his back turned to her, contemplating over the documents spread out before him, his hand busy with the pen.

“My apologies, Scisero. I meant to wrap this up earlier, but I happened to remember some things I wanted to write down…” Baralai does not even take a moment to fix the open collar of his silk bathrobe before he turns to face her, expecting her to be his Guado advisor. Now he stares at her in surprise, startled by her presence in his room. “Lady Yuna, good… Good evening.” He rises to stand, one hand on the edge of the table, where a thin stack of papers flutters to the floor. Embarrassed, Baralai stoops to recollect them. “Ah, sorry about that…”

“N-No, it's alright, I… it's me who should apologize…” Yuna manages a feeble reply, caught off guard by this rare moment of clumsiness from the most composed gentleman in Spira. She shouldn't find that cute, but she does, and so she stifles the smile.

Baralai straightens up on his feet, clearing his throat, setting the papers aside. “To what do I owe the visit?”

She watches him lean on the edge of the table, crossing his arms over his partially exposed chest, and she realizes how this must look. She came to his bedchambers in the dead of night, clothed in only a bathrobe and a sheer camisole. No wonder he acts so guarded.

She blushes, self-conscious.

“I… I wanted to apologize, for earlier… I ran out on your meeting, right when you reached the key point of your presentation. I'm sorry. You must be upset with me.”

“Upset? No…”

Yuna looks up at the sound of his chuckle, seeing his soft smile.

“I was worried. For some time, I thought I said something that upset you.”

“You did. I mean, I know you didn't mean to, but I― Did you really mean it? Did you… Do you honestly think… it's my fault, that we're in this current state…?”

“Lady Yuna, even the noblest of intentions can lead to negative consequences." His forthright words carry more impact than she ever expected they would, and she finds herself at a loss for words, uncertain of how she should feel. So adept at switching between the faces of friend and politician, that he often bewilders her. "I only stated the facts. I don't blame you or your actions; I praise you, in fact, for only you and your Guardians could have accomplished any of those feats. But it doesn't soften the truth, that we are all at fault for failing to notice sooner.”

His kind words render her speechless, and in the ensuing silence, Yuna catches him watching her, feeling self-conscious. She averts her eyes when he attempts to initiate eye contact, afraid that he can read her.

“We've come so far from where we used to be, and yet here we are, stuck at yet another impasse…” Baralai chuckles, thoughtful. “I abandon the Yevon name to start anew, and you go ahead and adopt it not long after. Coming from the woman who gave away a highly confidential and controversial sphere to the Youth League, I am quite surprised. What inspired this change of heart?”

Yuna remains silent on the matter, not ready to open that can of worms.

At her cold response, Baralai sighs. “...was that all you wished to talk to me about?”

“Ah, yes. Sorry to have bothered you… I… I, um, shall be going back to sleep now...”

He smiles, amicable. “It was not a bother. You can come to me anytime.”

His words make her pause. With one hand on the doorknob, she weighs her options.

She meant to walk out and never look back, but… They are alone, and she can ask him anything. When will there ever be another chance?

“...No. That wasn’t… everything...”

Dropping her arm, she scavenges the courage to turn around and face him. His posture has not changed; he still stands there, leaning on the table with his arms crossed. Only the expression on his face changed, regarding her his usual mild-mannered smile. “C-Can I ask you something? Your meeting today… it got me thinking…”

She walks forward, one tiny, timid step at a time, with her head bowed and her gaze glued to the floor, tracing the path of her feet. “Spira’s been thrown in a state of confusion, and you… somehow, you… You were able to make sense of everything.”

Now, Yuna raises her eyes, scavenging the courage to look him in the eye. “Could you help me understand something that happened in Besaid... one year ago?”

“Certainly.”

She blinks, startled by his immediate acquiesce. He accepted it without so much as a second thought that she wrings her hands, self-conscious. “I― I-I must warn you, it’s a long story… a-and, you must be tired―.”

“It’s quite alright.” Baralai smiles, appeasing her of her rapid, anxious thoughts. “I wouldn’t have said yes if I weren’t in the mood. Here. Why don’t you take a seat?”

He motions to the one other chair in the room, and she accepts his offer, sitting across from him as he follows suit. “Um, where do I start…”

“You can take as long as you need.”

She frowns. That’s just being far too gracious.

“...After we parted ways, I went back home after deciding to leave the Gullwings. I prepared myself to face the matrons, to speak with them about that day I felled Sin. I had been avoiding the truth over my victory against Sin, the dissolution of the Church, because…” She chokes up, sensing her throat constrict.

‘I was selfish. It was too personal for me to share... If I talked about it, I would have had to acknowledge that he―.’

“Lady Yuna?”

His concerned voice anchors her back to the present, and she swallows. “I-I couldn’t tell them. I wasn’t ready to tell them. For two years, I couldn’t… When I joined the Gullwings, even after I scoured every inch of Spira, I still couldn’t find… what I was looking for. I could have looked longer, I know I could. That thought crossed my mind many times, but… I felt that I looked enough. Our battle in the Farplane reinforced that feeling.”

Yuna stops to take a deep breath, losing the strength to continue. ‘I can’t stop here. I must…’ 

“But, the moment I arrived at Besaid, I… I found him. He was waiting for me. The person lost to me, my Guardian… The Fayth of Bahamut returned him to me, for one lifetime. It made me… so happy...” She trails off, sensing the tears well up in her eyes, and she hesitates to wipe them away, for fear that would expose her.

“Congratulations.” He smiles, reclining on the back of his chair with a casual cross of his arms.

To her relief, he spares her any comment on her tears, and she sniffles.

“Of course, I couldn’t... be happy for long. His return threw all of my priorities into question. I wanted a life with him, more than anything, but… I knew I couldn’t keep running away from my responsibilities either, so… While the dinner preparations for my homecoming were underway, I spent the entire night with them. I told the matrons everything, and they begged me to restore the idle clergy. I managed to avoid giving them a straight answer by telling them I needed time to think about it, and I…”

She pauses to giggle, overtaken by the fond memory. “I convinced the Besaid Aurochs to lend me their boat, The Ace, so I could be alone with… him…”

“Ah.”

His knowing smile makes her want to self-combust from mortification. “Y-Yes, I― I-It’s been so long, I― I just wanted to, erm…”

He laughs now, waving her off. “You don’t have to explain yourself."

“Yes, um… right.” Yuna clears her throat, composing herself. “Y-You can stop me anytime you want me to, in case you get bored or―.”

“No, no, continue. You have my undivided attention. After all, I want to believe there lies a point to all this gratuitous context.”

“...so, we, um, drifted out into sea, but not too far from Besaid, and we had… a long talk about everything. The passage of time between us, what I must do now that Spira has settled into the Eternal Calm. We ended up disagreeing… on a lot of things, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised. We always tend to disagree on things... The distance between us made it even worse... And then, a terrible squall hit Besaid overnight, and we were stranded somewhere farther out at sea where we couldn’t see any stretch of land. With our boat nowhere in sight, most likely destroyed due to the storm, we struggled to keep the aquatic fiends at bay, until eventually… I don’t know how, I passed out at some point, but we woke up on an island eerily similar to Besaid. We didn’t know where we were, and we couldn’t find any people, let alone a village, but... Little did we know at the time, we were marooned on an island summoned by an Unsent Summoner from a thousand years ago. A Dream version of Besaid, not unlike Yevon’s summoning of Zanarkand.

“As we continued to explore it, we found statues of old deities I never heard of. I don’t remember all their names, they were etched on the stone... Luchera, Guard, Kush… Ifarnal… to name a few. They were positioned in such strange ways that we couldn’t understand if they were meant to lead visitors astray or protect the children from getting lost.” Yuna stops there, becoming aware of her rambling. Because of that, she catches the rapt expression on his face, of him immersed in thought.

“Fascinating… To think there might have existed a completely different type of religion worshipped by the people who lived before Yevon’s time. Gods and deities separate from the Fayth we knew… How did their mythology come to exist…?”

She giggles, amused. "That’s something I never thought to ask. Maybe I should have...”

“Who?”

“Ifarnal. The Unsent Summoner I mentioned earlier. He inhabited the island with a woman he called his ‘Aeon Core,’ a different kind of Fayth. Not a stone statue, but a being who could exist after death. Like a fiend. She introduced herself to me, after I came in contact with her Summoner. He, Ifarnal… helped me restore Tidus to his original state, after he…” Yuna panics, cursing at herself for getting carried away with details.

‘Oh, no, I’m slipping… I shouldn’t have gone that far…’

“Tidus was… mortally wounded… by a bomb disguised as a blitzball…”

Baralai’s eyebrows rise at that. “Really?”

“Yes. Ah, one of Ifarnal’s other Aeon Cores, a human who was part machine… I think it was human… When it saw us, it probably confused us for hostiles trespassing on their territory. Its mind might have still been stuck in the time of the Machina War…”

“I am relieved you two made it out alive, then. But… What did you mean when you said, ah… Ifarnal, was it? He helped you restore Sir Tidus to his original state? You couldn’t have healed him with your magic?”

“I… didn’t have my staff! I was in a panic, and I couldn’t… put myself in a proper state of mind…”

“So, what did he do? This Unsent that felt compelled to help you?”

Baralai looks unconvinced, and she starts to sweat. She must divert him with another topic of interest.

“...ah, um… he bestowed upon me an ancient technique… of summoning, unique to Bevelle. Tidus is… not like the rest of us. He’s from Zanarkand, a dream version of Zanarkand that Yevon summoned with his city of devotees. He managed to exist outside this Zanarkand by riding Sin, and… because of the Fayth. They sustained his mortal life during his time in Spira.”

“...I see.”

He hums, thoughtful.

She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing, so she waits.

Even though Yuna only revealed a portion of the truth, would he be able to figure it out?

“Does that mean… His life is not his own, then? He can exist so long as the Fayth wishes him to, but even then… The Fayth departed from our world after you vanquished Sin. Why is that? They didn’t have to leave us, did they?”

“I only spoke to Bahamut at length, but they all seemed to say… That they were tired of dreaming. They wanted to sleep, after so many years…”

Back then, Yuna didn’t understand the depth of their suffering. Not an inkling. But now… She wishes she didn’t. She scorns them and criticizes them, even though she empathizes with them to avoid the glaring flaw in herself.

“That makes sense. I don’t blame them, honestly,” Baralai says with a wry smile, bringing her back to the present. “Hm... That begs the question, though...”

“What?”

“Is Sir Tidus a beckoning?”

Her breath stops, and she cradles her hand over her wavering heart.

“...No.”

“Did he die, then? In that explosion. You were being awfully vague about that part.”

As much as Yuna wants to flee from this room, she had been the one to dig this hole. Now she must lie in this bed that she made, hoping she can die in it. Anything to avoid his soul-piercing questions. “...Yes. But he is not a beckoning. I can assure you of that.”

“What is that, if not a beckoning?” He sounds more weary and annoyed than anything else, least of all condescending, but she can hear his sarcasm in the rhetoric. It evokes that feeling of guilt and shame, but most of all―

‘No. I don’t… regret anything…’

“He… is a dream. He’s my dream now, not the Fayth’s anymore. I’ve been… summoning him all this time. Ifarnal taught me how.”

“Lady Yuna.”

Baralai opens his mouth, about to say something, but then thinks better of it and sighs.

She senses he must be revising the words in his head. Soon, she will be wishing he never spoke at all.

“Lady Yuna… Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

Ire rises in her throat, and she bites back the spiteful frown, incensed by his tone. “It’s my choice. I don’t expect you to understand.”

She knows she made a fatal mistake the moment those words flew out her mouth. The kind amber glow in his soft eyes darken to pitch black, and he looks away, propping his cheek on the end of his fist. The way he stares off into space frightens her, because she knows what kind of thoughts he tends to harbor. He once carried the shadow of Shuyin, after all, and she can see a trace of him now, of the rage outlined in the tension of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze.

“You love him, but you can’t find it within yourself to let go, can you?”

Something snaps within her, in which his words open the floodgates and she can’t hope to keep them shut any longer.  

Yuna crumbles into herself, allowing her tears to flow free.

~

Yuna dreams of the ocean.

She dreams of sleeping, feeling the waves rock the wooden, creaking walls of The Ace in its gentle, strong embrace. As the boat sinks for the last time and Yuna sinks further into the bed, she stirs, curious by the sudden loss of swaying. Inside this sparsely-decorated cabin, sunlight filters through the porthole, blanketing her in warmth. Darkness swathes her surroundings the moment she opens her eyes, blinded by the candlelight bleeding into her blurry vision, before someone’s hand reaches out to dowse the wick. She stares up at the broad back of her bedside companion, watching him brood in silence. The scent of sweet smoke fills the room, tickling her nose, and she sneezes.

Sensing him turn to look at her, she feels shy under his fond gaze. 

“Bless you.”

“Th-Thank you…”

“Did I wake you? If so, I apologize.”

“Ah, it’s alright… Um, I’m sorry… I fell asleep on you…”

“No worries. I assumed you were tired. You unloaded quite a lot of baggage there.”

She blushes, self-conscious, and before she can formulate a witty retort, he reaches out to stroke her head, brushing her long, messy hair out of her face. Her heartbeat races, and stills again when his hand begins to slow, projecting his timidity as well as her own. He lifts a lock of her hair between his fingers and touches the tail end of it to his lips, lingering on the gesture.

“Goodnight, milady. I shall see you in the morning.”

Scarlet heat blooms in her cheeks, and she squeaks in response. Thank the Fayth he cannot see her face in the dark.

Baralai smiles and drops his hand, standing to exit the room. In the quiet echo of the door’s close, another one opens, and she tries to deny it by burying her blushing red face into the pillow in vain.

‘I didn’t even finish telling him the full story. Oh, well… Maybe next time.’