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nihiladditaenihilperdidi · 2 months ago

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Day in New York Pt. 3 || Rune + Anya || April 30th, 2024

Rune: "Famished." Now that she had settled in, short of kicking her shoes off, his appetite had finally reared its head.

"Got some takeaway menus in the kitchen." Back around the U-shaped apartment to the single wall galley kitchen. The little blue chair was pulled in invitation. She didn't need to see the depressing state of his fridge.

"What are you craving?"

Anya: She quickly fished her phone from her bag before trailing him to the kitchen. Not quite the convenience of Doordash, but if he already knew the restaurants he liked in the area, that narrowed down the options.

She took the offered seat with a smile. One leg crossed over the other.

"Let me see the options." Her hands settled onto the table, her mobile pushed off to the side. "And I'll narrow it down."

She wouldn't know how broad a choice she'd have, until she saw the menus.

Rune: Crossing the house, Rune shrugged his coat along the way, tossing it over the couch as they turned the corner. Twirled on his finger was his prize, smirk plastered on his face as he gathered menus with his free hand. Greek, Chinese, Georgian, American, and Italian places nearby, all from one drawer and a magnet in the fridge.

"Guest picks the food." In the meantime, he would find a suitable record to play. Nothing but classics, from classical orchestra to 80s goth and 70s rock. Perhaps the radio...

Anya: Anya laughed, sharp and bright, her head shaking. "Ridiculous man."

She was still chuckling as she fanned the collection of menus out across the tabletop. The options in the city were so varied. She missed that much, for sure.

"You're worse than I am," she teased, plucking up the first to flip through. Italian, at a glance.

She'd browsed three before she snagged one from a nearby Georgian restaurant. Her dark eyebrows inched higher with each section she scanned.

"I can eat like... two-thirds of this."

They had a winner.

Rune: "I should have bet your bra on the restaurant." But instead he took to a knee beside her chair, sliding his hand from her ankle to her inner thigh. Fingernails softly and idly stroked.

"We have a winner. Give them a ring. They deliver in twenty minutes. Plenty of time for... who knows."

Anya: Ha. "Guess you're gonna have to pick another wager, then."

She could think of a few, most of them involving how much they could do before the food arrived. But it was difficult to think of much with his fingers on her thigh.

"We'll think of something. You know, they have online ordering."

She tapped the text just below the restaurant's number. There was likely a QR code on the back somewhere as well, but that was a discussion for another time. She grabbed her mobile with one hand while the other buried itself into Rune's hair.

"What do you want?"

Rune: "They have online ordering," he parroted, shaking his head. "But then we can't play a little game." His fingers stroked where her panties should have been, and he smiled.

"Surprise me," he whispered, pressing his middle finger forward, circling, taking his sweet time just because they finally could. There was nothing in this room or beyond its walls more interesting than her reaction, trying to order their dinner with a straight face.

Anya: Her hold tightened on those dyed strands. "Game, hm? What do I get when I win?"

Anya was up for it. She definitely wasn't going to push away that exploring hand. She'd already won.

Biting down on a smile, she unlocked her phone, rolling her eyes as she bypassed the search bar to dial the restaurant's number.

"I can't even remember the last time I actually called a restaurant," she murmured, listening to the ring. Her eyes found Rune's and held them for as long as it took for someone to pick up. The challenge in her gaze was obvious.

She was forced to look at the unfamiliar menu when a woman's voice greeted.

"Hi! Yes, I'd like to place an order for delivery..."

Rune: "I'm not looking for a wager." But their thoughts were once more in sync. She had already won. He had already won.

"Does that make you spoiled, or privileged, or too young for a phone?"

He waited for as long as her patience took, and when her gaze drifted, rubbed small circles around her most sensitive area, and then up and down. Feeling for the tactile pleasure, watching for which method rendered the most reaction before slipping two fingers within.

Anya: "Spoiled, I guess. By the miracle of modern technology."

There was room for debate, there, but Anya had to focus all of her attention on the task at hand. She sucked in a soft breath at the first circular stroke of his fingers. A loss of composure quickly regained. Anya couldn't actually have anyone hear her come apart at the seams. Her face flushed at the very thought, but she pressed forward.

She kept her tone steady, speaking far too slowly to sound natural as she gave Rune's address and unit number.

"Yes... Of course... I'm ready..."

At least her halting speech could be excused by the unfamiliar dish names.

Rune: "She's ready," he mouthed. His free hand spread her knees apart, turning her chair just enough to nestle between them. His two fingers worked inside her, feeling the shifting texture of arousal, feeling with curled fingers for that one place that would make this phone call nearly impossible. Firm and determined fingers had a grand time finding their prize, only to slip free, rocking his entire hand over her vulva.

All of that, and the audacity to wink.

Anya: She kept a white knuckled grip on her phone, the potential danger of cracking her screen the furthest thing from her mind as she struggled to maintain an unaffected tone. It was the only part of her that could arguably pass. Her cheeks grew pinker with each drag of his fingers, wide pupils eating up the green of her eyes, until only a sliver remained. Even her barely-silent breathing was unsteady.

Anya willed her self to continue. She spoke slowly, tone bordering on robotic. Georgian salad and roasted mushrooms for her, chicken skewers and pickled vegetables for him. An order of smashed potatoes for them to share, and more bread than could be called necessary with such a spread.

Her thumb barely managed to tap 'mute' when the practiced crook of his fingers forced a whimper from her throat. She gave his hair a reproving tug, glancing up in just enough time to see that wink. He was a menace. She adored him.

"Nope... That's it... Mhm... Thanks. Don't stop now." Now that she'd ended the call and dropped her phone none-too-gently onto the table.

Rune: Moments like this left the mage wondering the merits of waiting. What a familiar had once told him so many years ago, that things were meant to happen how they happened when they happened. Mouthy bastard, but with every encounter with Anya from day one, that ridiculous quote had echoed from his memories as if through cupped microphone hands.

The clatter of her phone threw his head back with laughter. His hand didn't stop, just wasn't doing what she clearly favored. The authority of her tone was met with defiant smacks of his fingers, loud enough for satisfying pop sounds over her clitoris.

"I haven't stopped," he countered, sitting up and leaning in, just shy of her lips. Another inch and those lips ghosted her cheek, down across her jaw, and over her chin.

"Twenty minutes... what to do for twenty minutes..."

Anya: The gasp his smack elicited was one of shock, rather than pain. She could feel the hammering of her pulse in her chest and between her legs. But despite her answering moan, she'd lost that delicious friction.

"You have," she argued, because of course she did. Rune knew damn well what she meant. Without her phone to contend with, she was free to flatten her hand over his, guiding him toward the pressure she sought.

His mouth brushed her chin and she dipped her head to catch it with her own, chuckling as she did. Her fingers had yet to leave his hair.

"I have an idea," she murmured against his lips, her smile audible. "You can finish what you started."

Rune: His hair was going to be a mess by the time their food arrived. The thought had him smiling into their kiss, biting gently on her bottom lip, tugging just enough to do so before offering his tongue.

"This?" he slipped only his middle finger within, immediately pressing with purpose. "Just this?" His smile was wicked.

"I have an uncomfortable couch or a very small bed. Take your pick."

Anya: Her toes curled in the confines of her boots, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

"Well, we have twenty whole minutes." Anya could make that time stretch. But a location change was tempting. It didn't take much consideration. She freed his hand to wind both arms behind his neck.

"Hm. Very small bed."

He'd have to navigate blind, as she wasn't ready to relinquish his mouth. She would, however, wrap her legs very agreeably around his waist when he stood.

Rune: Make time stretch. Another shared thought he would wager, but the seed was planted. His lip bitten with ideas easily distracted by reality. There she was, willingly and so easily in his arms. The absurdity was what made her real; knowing he would not treat himself so kindly in his own dreams.

Both hands held her agreeably underneath her skirt, relishing skin-to-skin as he waddled proudly the short distance to the bed, turning to sit for the selfish pleasure of having her in his lap. He relished the feeling of her heat through his clothes and raised his pelvis to torture himself further.

Anya: It had been her full intention, but she still laughed to be lifted from the chair. She trusted his hold and his stride until they settled onto the mattress.

Gone were the layers of thick denim and cotton from the day previous. The roll of his hips dragged fabric over sensitive skin. Anya shuddered against him, breathing a soft 'oh' against his lips. That. Again.

Anya rocked impatiently against him. She was at war with her own desire, wanting to touch as much as she wanted to be touched. She split the difference. One hand shifted to cradle the side of his face, the other slipping between them to work loose the buttons of her stolen shirt. He still wasn't getting it back, but it was in the way, at the moment.

Rune: Again she would have. The feeling of his arousal as a plaything for her jutting and rocking. There was something incredibly sexy in being used like a toy, knowing it was his body, his presence giving her pleasure.

Cradling his face, working the buttons of her stolen shirt, his hands remained occupied, massaging the perfect muscles of her ass up over her lower back and back down over her thighs, only to migrate the length of her spine and back to her hips. Never lingering too long in any place.

"Sit on my face."

Anya: She freed the last of the buttons with a restless twitch of her fingers, glad to be rid of them. Less appealing was relinquishing her hold on him to untie the knotted ends and shrug out of the shirt entirely. She let it slide to the floor without another thought.

Fully prepared to give her bra similar treatment, Rune's words had her hands stopping short. They made to grip his biceps instead. Steadying.

"Do kurwy nędzy," she breathed, burying her face in the crook of his neck. It was the furthest thing in the world from a no.

Convincing herself that this was not an elaborate fantasy was the work of a few seconds. She inhaled the mint and pine scent of him before straightening, taking his face in both of her hands to kiss him sweetly. A touch of gentle affection before she pushed him down onto the mattress.

She didn't waste precious time with words as she crawled up to straddle his head as requested. This time, her grip on his hair was as much to anchor herself as for the tactile pleasure of it.

Rune: Her comment almost went over his head. Thoughts so far from Polish he had to blink, resetting his mind and chuckling when her words finally processed.

"Are you hiding?" he whispered, nuzzling into her ear. Her curtain of curls pulled back enough to nip the flesh of her neck, just shy of her jaw.

Her kiss did nothing to descend his high. Only a promise of what was coming.

The single pillow was pushed off the bed, hands at his ribs until she made her way home to his awaiting mouth. Strong fingers and clipped nails pressed into her lower back, encouraging her closer to his sweeping tongue, giving most of his immediate attention to her throbbing clitoris.

Anya: Anya was mindful of her position, the bulk of her weight pressed into the mattress, a knee on either side of his head. She surrendered under those encouraging hands. Just a little. One hand braced against the brick wall, the other fisted in his hair.

She chased the back-arching pleasure, riding his willing tongue, her breathing unsteady. But she maintained awareness of the man beneath her. She was ready to shift at a moment's notice.

Rune: Her hesitation was felt in the nuance of every movement. Sweet woman, even now being careful with her plaything. A hand slid over her hip, pushing with one hand only to pull with the other, directing her for no other reason than to relieve her concerns. He was far from smothered, though he found humor in the idea of dying by her pussy. Not the worst death imaginable.

Rhythmic swipes of his tongue gave way to gentle sucking, only to switch back, and forth, and back.

Anya: She wouldn't argue against his silent insistence. If he wanted her to take her pleasure, she would without apology. Her hips rolled in time with his tongue, until she teetered on the very edge of climax. She was lost to quivering muscles. The grip on his hair was punishing, however unintentionally.

Anya came with a soft cry. It was a breathless moment before she loosed her hold on him, and a moment longer before she shifted back to straddle his clothed cock again.

Though she hadn't quite caught her breath, she dipped to catch the taste of herself on his tongue.

"How much time left?" She was sure he knew.

Rune: If she wanted to grasp his hair for dear life, that was her right. Now that he knew her preferences, he had plans for her in the future. And just knowing there was a future put a smile on his face before she could reach his lips.

"That was less than five minutes," he grinned, bumping his nose to hers. "You're very sensitive." Never mind the truth, that he had slowed time in their little bubble.

His hands lingered on her lower back, just shy of her ass, pressing her pelvis down to meet his. A grind so perfect as to make him grunt.

Anya: There was really no arguing against that. Her laugh was muffled by his lips.

"See? I knew twenty minutes was plenty of time. I love being right."

And still fifteen minutes to take advantage of! Or perhaps fourteen, for decency's sake. His hair was already a mess, and she imagined she looked no less obscene.

Her ass was his to grab, if he so chose. They had little time to waste. Ignoring just how sensitive and swollen her clit was, she pressed against him again. That little grunt had been delightful. Though, not quite so delicious as his groans the night before, when her teeth had pressed against his throat.

Anya hummed thoughtfully. Two fingers tugged at his collar, exposing hidden space where neck met shoulder. The subtle indentations had long since faded. She wondered if it would bother him if they hadn't. Her lips lowered to that spot, hips grinding again. Another tender show of affection before she traded lips for teeth.

Rune: Just as her fingers had made a home in his hair, his grasp remained firm on her hips as a means to anchor his reality. There was nowhere his fantasies could take him beyond pessimistic, and he refused to indulge in melancholy.

His lips searched for somewhere to kiss, buried in her hair as she fiddled with his shirt. Her lips had been expected, but not teeth. It had been just one instance. A fluke. But the second pain registered his hips were rolling upward, his grind desperate and his gasp sharp, delighted, and tapered with a string of quiet moans.

"Something about fourteen minutes," he tried to laugh and failed.

Anya: Oh! She couldn't have hoped for a better reaction. There was something deeply satisfying in being the one to elicit it.

"Hm?" It was a soft, wordless question. Her mind was a second behind her ears, distracted as she was. Ah, yes. His sometimes-window into her thoughts. Anya didn't find that she minded.

"Mhm. Still so much time."

Time for another press of her teeth, certainly, sucking at the tender flesh. If he made no move to stop her, the mark would certainly linger. The hand that pressed to the other side of his neck was ever so gentle.

Rune: What she was doing was making a mess out of the man beneath her. A writhing, humping, panting mess soaking a wet spot into his trousers without a care in the world for anything beyond the woman in his arms and their animalistic needs.

"Harder," was a word he didn't mean to say. A greedy impulse out of his mouth before he could comprehend the consequences.

Anya: No, this was beyond mere satisfaction. There was a power in taking someone apart in this way, one she wouldn't admit to relishing. Not out loud.

That desperate word had her pulling back. She needed to study that treasured face. A careful hand stroked over his hair.

"Yeah?" Anya wanted this. Wanted that intimate knowledge of what he desired. To wring every ounce of pleasure out of him. Selfish and selfless, at once.

She could give him that much. The hand in his hair tilted his head. Her teeth sank into the lovely column of his throat. She wouldn't draw blood, but he'd have one hell of a bruise.

Rune: As much as he wanted to sink in on himself for his unintended confession, he could look nowhere else but her eyes when offered the chance. Those eyes were full of love and lust, sans disgust and confusion.

She was a winning hand. A perfect Ace of Hearts.

And her teeth sent him to the doorstep of Heaven.

But removing the barrier separating their bodies felt a step too far. It had to be her idea, he decided, content with his torment on all fronts. Just a little more friction and it wouldn't matter where his cock was, but he was certain by now she could feel what she had done to him.

Anya: Of course she could. She savored every desperate shift of his body beneath hers. It was truly a shame that they didn't have more time. Though, upon further reflection, they had plenty. Hours beyond the arrival of dinner. For as long as their energy lasted. The thought made her giddy.

Her lips pressed to the spot her teeth had been, before she sat up, settling back on his thighs to give herself room to undo his fly. That they were both mostly dressed was hotter than it had any right to be.

"Still keeping track of the time?"

Rune: Was she reading his thoughts now? Was he projecting? Rune sat up on his elbows to watch her, breathing in quickly and deeply.

"Twelve minutes, twenty-four seconds. Twenty-three..." he laughed breathlessly.

If he concentrated enough, he could slow time again. It would still be twenty minutes until a knock on their door, but it was the illusion of stretched time.

He would not ask what she was about to do, because it didn't matter. Truly, did not matter. It was hers to play with; it was because of her. What greeted her was modest, uncircumcised, and curved achingly toward his stomach, covered in preejaculate.

Anya: How did he do that? Anya didn't think she'd ever not be dazzled by him. She grinned, escaped curls swinging with the shake of her head.

"Impossible man." They had no time to waste, but she stopped what she was doing to take his face in her hands and steal a kiss, anyway.

Only a moment, though. Soon, she was tugging his pants down just enough to free his leaking cock. She took him in hand, giving a single stroke, biting her lower lip appreciatively.

"Still plenty of time." Though she was loath to rush. Not after so long wanting him.

She inched forward to settle over him, not yet moving to push him inside. Her hips rolled to drag slick heat along his length. She slid hands up his clothed chest and over his shoulders to settle at his nape, fingers lacing together. She sought his gaze for reassurance.

"Ok?"

Rune: His hips rose just enough to assist. He couldn't recall the last time he had sex almost fully clothed. Frankly, he didn't care. They had been naked jaybirds just last night. She didn't seem to have a preference, and neither did he. Only to admire her control, which she took with only a single hesitation.

He nodded, leaning up to capture her lips. She could taste herself again, nice and sweet on his warm tongue.

It's yours, he almost said. But she knew, didn't she? A thought that flipped his insides. Still on his elbow, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Miej to."

Anya: She accepted his tongue ardently, seeking his taste more than her own. That little phrase in Polish had her lips lifting in a fern-curl smile. She needed no further encouragement.

One hand reached behind her to hold his rigid cock in place as she sank onto him. A held breath expelled shakily into their kiss. No half-remembered dream could compare. Green eyes closed for a beat, forehead dropping to press to his. Her heart stumbled in her chest.

His name was a moan on her lips when she began to move.

Rune: If he could convince himself this was a dream he would, but the act of disassociation was near impossible. He couldn't look away. This was either the cruelest dream or the sweetest mercy.

His arm remained fast to her waist, fingertips pressed into her ribs. Every language he knew was insufficient gibberish. Only Dutch, and a mantra.

Dit is Anya. Jouw Anya. Zoete mus.

"Jij bent echt." He had to kiss her to be certain.

Anya: It was a declaration felt, rather than understood. Hours later, she'd revisit her resolve from years before to learn his mother tongue. For now, she only nodded. Yes. Of course. Whatever it was, she agreed.

Rune offered his lips and she claimed them, fingers lacing together behind his neck once more. It was as much for the pleasure of his skin against hers as it was to have leverage as she rose and sank onto his cock again, and again.

Rune: Rune could do little more than breathe. Swallowing great lungfuls of air against her mouth. They were anchored to each other. Braced by his forearm, his hips greeted her eager pelvis each and every instance. Fingernails dug through her clothes, wanting so much to have her teeth bearing the same strength into his flesh.

Her name never tasted so sweet.

Anya: Each stroke against that sensitive bundle of nerves drove her closer to a second orgasm. She clenched tight around him on instinct, her thighs quivering. Whether from the pleasure or the strain, she didn't know. Didn't care.

He'd certainly accuse her of hiding again, but she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Overwhelmed by the impossibility of... all of it.

Rune could guess whether it was projection or natural impulse that had her teeth sinking into his throat, muffling a cry as she came. She wouldn't slow her pace.

Rune: Her clench brought him dangerously close to the edge, verging on painful had she an extra ounce of strength. The quiver in her thighs concerned him, but only for a moment. He wanted extra hands just to caress her, expressing concern with action rather than words, but he couldn't bring himself to detach his arm, nor flatten himself on the mattress. Being this close still wasn't close enough.

But he needed to grasp a language, and quickly. One she understood.

"Anya, I-"

Pain shot up his spine at the gnashing of her teeth. It was over; his warning lost in his choked, struggling moan and rocking desperate hips.

With every pulse of his cock, he made a proper mess of her, warm and slick and unapologetic. What, other than a bath, must they concern themselves with? At least now he could collapse, and bring his beloved with him, cradled and kissed to his heart's content.

Anya: She indulged in those kisses for longer than was probably wise. A knock would come too soon.

Anya still couldn't bring herself to move. Her head lifted just enough to study his face, to examine the marks on his neck for broken skin.

"Ik hou van jou," she murmured. Still just this side of perfect, but that was beside the point. She'd get it, eventually.

Rune: Bruised skin certainly, but she hadn't been vicious enough to break his skin. Still, the look of bliss on his face was entirely her fault.

"Ik ben erg blij om dat te horen." The man beneath her laughed, sighed, and kissed her again.

"Je hebt geen idee hoeveel ik van je hou." And she had little to no idea what he was saying. He knew that, but he needed a moment to reset.

"Engels," he muttered. "English. Right. Words."

Anya: She understood nothing beyond those last four words. They were all she needed, anyway.

"Wäre Deutsch einfacher?" she teased, completely unable to dim her smile. Hands smoothed over his mussed hair. Lips pressed to the bridge of his nose. He was a mess. A perfect, beautiful mess.

"Du musst essen. Can't exactly answer the door like this."

Rune: "Ja!" He laughed, as though caught by surprise. "Wir sprechen Deutsch!“ His hand clasped over his eyes, his grin broad and almost painful.

So, he would continue in German. She was right, it was easier to muster his second language.

"Why don't you draw us a bath? We can abandon decorum and eat and soak."

Anya: Had he forgotten? The thought made her laugh, dropping another kiss onto his lips.

German, then.

"Mm. Decadent. I like it."

She'd have a few more stolen kisses before she was willing to separate, sitting up to unzip and peel out of her dress. She tossed it and her bra onto the floor with his shirt. Better late than never.

Grinning, she retreated to the bathroom.

Rune: Rune remained in his crumpled state, eyes soft and tired and adoring, watching with reverence as she gave and gave relentlessly. A man could only take so much before an ache washed over his body and soul.

Once she was out of sight he was putting himself to rights.

"There's bath salts under the sink. Want some water?"

Anya: She left her boots beside the bathroom door. She'd have to apologize for keeping them on in the first place. What hair remained in her braid was freed, the lot piled messily atop her head.

"Yes, please," she called, starting the tap. "With ice, if you have it!"

Rune: The selling feature of this flat had been its absent doors. He could have had his pick of any apartment on any floor at Hillkate, yet he called the smallest, the most exposed unit haven for its lack of privacy. Subconscious peace of mind.

So, walking past the bathroom and seeing her, his Anya, making herself at home, he had to pause, but only for a moment.

"With ice," he echoed. Ice cubes and flasks filled the top freezer. A small black bag forgotten in the back, covered in a layer of frost. Water was poured from a filtered pitcher into a lowball glass. The fridge had seen better days. A half-bitten dark chocolate bar, takeaway that was beginning to smell, oranges and apples from a neighbor.

His shame was shut away.

"I guess I should put a curtain here," he sighed, leaning against the brick entryway of the bathroom.

Anya: Anya perched on the narrow lip of the tub, tipping salts into water that was just a touch too warm to be comfortable. It would cool by the time they were ready to climb in, surely.

She looked up at the sound of his voice, chuckling. She'd noted the lack of a door, figuring it was a byproduct of living alone and without an army of animals to keep out of places they shouldn't wander.

She extended a hand for the glass.

"If that's what you want." There was no privacy that could be gained with a curtain that couldn't just as easily be achieved with common courtesy. Fortunately, Anya wasn't squeamish.

"Did the place not come with doors?"

Rune: "It barely came with walls." Her glass of water handed over, he smacked the nearest brick with a hint of pride.

"I put these in. The kitchen was the only division. This was all storage. Everything in here was once someone else's trash. Everything but that tub."

Anya: "Thank you," she murmured, as her fingers curled around the glass. That little touch of pride had her lips quirking fondly. She hid the smile with a sip of water.

"A handy man."

Anya suspected again that he didn't host often, given he'd never bothered to put in doors, but she wouldn't voice the question a second time. She tucked the bath salts in the crook of her arm, bending to trail her hand in the rising water.

"It's a really nice tub. How long did it take you to get it exactly how you want it? I still haven't repainted the walls." And was still only considering a garden.

Rune: "Can't say. Haven't thought about it as wants. Needed a chair, table. Wanted quiet. I got quiet."

A quick rap in the door excused him from her heavenly presence. Paid and tipped, the delivery boy was gone in less than a minute. No one stuck around such a holy place. Feeling either unworthy or goosefleshed.

Rune returned to the bathroom with their paper bag, shirt finally discarded.

"I can paint your walls."

Anya: A splash of cold to spare their skin, and Anya shut off the water. While Rune collected the food, Anya tucked the bath salts back where she'd found them, setting her glass on the rim of the tub.

She didn't bother telling him that he didn't have to. He knew that. She only crossed to take the bag from him so he could finish getting undressed.

"Your list is getting pretty long. We can do it together." At some point.

She dragged the stool beside the tub a little closer, stacking containers atop it. When she was satisfied that it was steady, she sank into the water with a deep sigh.

Rune: "Well I don't plan on leaving in a year." Certainly she understood what he meant. As tired as he was, he would rather assume than elaborate.

With no more distractions, he could stare as he pleased. He found he often did so in her presence.

"Room for one more?" he smirked, sliding trousers and underwear down and away.

Anya: Anya smiled, at that. They had plenty of time.

She matched Rune stare for stare, her lingering gaze completely unabashed. With the stress of revelations the night before, she hadn't had the opportunity to truly admire his naked body the way that such a body warranted.

The smile that curved her lips bordered on playful, one elbow propped up on the edge of the tub, her jaw resting on her open palm as she watched him.

"I think I can squeeze you in."

Rune: "Oh, well thank you, ma'am." Both were as nude as the night before, and somehow this was less stressful. There was a sense of peace in her presence, being vulnerable with her behind a single locked door. He slipped into the bath with a sigh to match her own.

"You'll be bored before midnight."

Anya: "Bored?" The very idea was laughable. She grabbed the nearest container and peeked inside, handing it over to him.

"I don't think I've ever spent a single minute with you that was boring."

Anya could pass an afternoon quietly with him and be content, but even that was rare.

"We'll find something to do. We could sit and watch the rain. I don't care."

Rune: "Not even the boring parts?" He was back to smirking, fully expecting to be splashed by hot water. Luckily he was half submerged, container all but floating in the water.

"Is this the Polish in you or the American? You're boiling us like eggs."

Anya: Splashed he was, and offered a poked-out tongue for good measure. She very seriously considered chucking a mushroom at his head, but bit into it instead.

"There's no American in this blood, sir. It's perfect. Toasty."

She sank a little deeper beneath the surface to prove her point.

"Warm water is good to relax tired muscles. I really only take them when I need to wind down. A nice bath bomb? Maybe a good book? Perfect."

Rune: "I think I'm too Dutch." Was that ironic? No. People could certainly be too American. "I'm sweating underwater."

Teasing her was a highlight of his life, and their confessions didn't suddenly flip a switch in his personality. Neither, it seemed, did it for her.

"You've never jumped in a lake in the middle of winter. Just a guess."

Anya: "You poor man." Her eyes rolled, but she reached behind her for the tap anyway. Another splash of cold that she refused to let make her body tense up. She did so love him.

"Show's how much you actually know. Have you ever gone skinny dipping in an alpine lake after a nice, long hike? That's not a bath. It's different."

Rune: Once again seeing the truth of his words woven between the jestering.

"I think that's another story for another time." A cube of chicken was pulled from his skewer. Was this the first time eating meat in front of her? He couldn't recall.

"But I want to hear your story. How old were you?"

Anya: "Ok." She dipped her head. Another time worked for her. She wasn't in any rush.

Humming around a mouthful of mushroom, Anya gestured vaguely with her disposable fork. "That depends," she began, when she'd swallowed, "on which story you prefer. When I was seventeen? Or twenty-two? Or twenty-five..."

Rune: "First experiences are intriguing." Another bite, tugging at his skewer. "The rest are chasing the same feeling, aren't they?"

Anya: Her head tilted one way and then the other.

"I don't know. Each time feels different, because the circumstances were different."

She fell silent, not quite able to voice the thought. That each retreat into nature brought its own unique sense of rejuvenation. That left her feeling small in a way that never failed to ground her.

Reaching for a braid that wasn't there, she grabbed her glass of water instead and took a sip.

"But you want the first time." It wasn't a question.

Rune: "First times are my favorite. Followed by... the... fifth time," he smirked. The last little morsel of his skewer disappeared into his mouth. Trying, for once, to eat slowly.

"Only if you want."

Anya: She released an amused huff, setting her glass aside with a soft clink. "I want."

Another mushroom, and a deep sigh as she collected her thoughts. "Like I said, I was seventeen. It was my first trip without my parents. Well, the first one that far from home. I was a couple months shy of finishing secondary school; right after my birthday. I was... still sad. And a little scared, but mostly excited about graduating. Went with a group of friends to the Tatras-- national park in the mountains. Anyway, you're not allowed to camp inside the park, so we stayed in these terrible little huts just outside that were only a couple of euros a night. Think: communal showers, stained bedsheets, terrible food. But I didn't care at all. We were there for the trails. My favorite takes you right along the biggest mountain lake. You're technically not allowed to swim --or fish-- but a dare is a dare. So, I stripped down and jumped in."

She chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. "It was fucking freezing. It's a miracle I didn't drown; I couldn't breathe."

Rune: "That's the worst about it. The breathing is... unlike anything else." His eyes were fixed on her chest, but not to admire; he was somewhere else. His own memory.

But he would much rather be in hers, living vicariously.

When he remembered to breathe, he smiled. Was that ironic, given the topic? He still hadn't mastered that word in over a century, but every now and again it crossed his mind.

"Is it the same friends each time?"

Anya: "It's definitely something you have to get used to."

His eyes were on her body, hers on his face, wondering where he'd gone for that silent moment. She didn't ask. A story for another time, as he'd said.

She gave a small shake of her head. "Made new friends in University. And the last couple of times, I was here. Just me and the dogs."

Rune: "Here? A lake here?" She was the only reason he bothered to leave the city. Lakes and mountains were a hard negotiation, and unless significant to his life, utterly foreign.

"First time was a dare. What were the others?"

Anya: "Of course! I said when I was twenty-five, didn't I? You know I was here by then."

She stretched for a second container, balancing the first precariously on the lip of the tub. She stabbed at a beautifully dressed tomato.

"Vermont, New Hampshire, one right on the border. I'll take a trip out West, when I have the time."

And the money, but that was none of his concern.

"This country is huge. I've barely seen any of it. Making the drive on the Alcan to Alaska is on my bucket list. But that's years from now, probably."

She tooka bite with an appreciative hum, swallowing before she continued. "Because it's fun, of course. Cold, but fun."

Rune: "You've been further than I have. Can't say I've touched any landlocked states." And with a realization, he scoffed. "I've got havens in San Diego and Seattle I haven't touched in twenty, no, thirty years. Yeah. This place is large enough to forget."

What remained of his aluminum plate was placed on the floor, only to sink a little deeper into the water.

"Why years from now?" Not his concern, she thought, but his interest.

"I didn't take you as a winter fairy. You scream springtime."

Anya: Her eyebrows rose.

"You might wanna check they're still standing," she teased. She had a hard time picturing him on the West Coast.

"It's a really tough drive, from what I've heard. Remote, terrible roads. It takes a lot of preparation and I can't sacrifice that kind of time, right now."

She shrugged. It was on the bucket list for a reason.

"Yes. You know spring is my favorite. Making that drive in the winter is suicide. It's a summer trip. But I appreciate all of the seasons."

Rune: "All of the seasons. Every animal. Every kind face and sweet voice. Any reason to be helpful and loving. Aren't you tired?" he smiled, letting his mouth dip underwater, eyes smiling at her.

Anya: "Not yet," she laughed, the sound barely there. "Maybe when I've seen everything there is to see and done everything there is to do."

Until then, she was enjoying her life out of spite.

"But I'm not always helpful and loving. I'm human."

Rune: For that, he would emerge. "No such thing," he warned. "When you think you've done everything, there'll be something else. A place you haven't been, a niche subject you've never considered. Something new will be invented. A new discovery."

He couldn't say that was the reason he was still around, but, she could assume. Probably better than the truth.

"Anya Adamczak, my spatzi, selfish?"

Anya: "You say that like it's a bad thing. Sounds like always having something to look forward to."

Maybe that was optimism, but it was how she truly felt. She cracked a smile, covering her mouth with a hand as she chewed a cucumber.

"Sometimes. And short tempered, and too competitive, and stubborn. Less stubborn than you, though."

Rune: "I've never experienced short-tempered Anya. I don't think she's real. You made her up."

competitive, stubborn, certainly. He could smile along with her.

"Is that what you want? To live 108 years in good shape? Still learning on your death bed?"

Anya: "Catch me on a bad day. You'll meet her. Not sure you'll like her."

She hummed around another mouthful of her salad, taking a silent moment to chew and swallow.

"That sounds like a pretty good life, yes."

Rune: "I think I can take her. We'll come to blows in the backyard. She'll swarm me with ravens and mice and walk away with a scratch."

All jokes aside, and another bite of chicken later, Rune was back to staring at the rippling water, reflecting on her gentle enthusiasm.

"Hmm." I can give that to you, he almost said. Wanted to. Withheld only to contemplate the proposal... of some eighty more years of his presence.

Anya: Anya snorted. The vivid image had her biting down on a smile.

Rune quieted and she followed suit. Her eyes lingered on his face as she savored bites of her salad. He seemed lost in thought. She wouldn't drag him out of them, for a while.

"I've never seen you eat so slowly."

Rune: The sound of her voice brought him back, head tilting up before his gaze followed, softening from her presence.

"I guess it's this place. Never hungry when I'm here." The corner of his mouth twitched. "Never hungry after sex, either."

Anya: She feigned a gasp, pressing a hand to her damp chest.

"Oh, no! We'll just have to eat first, in the future. Keep up your energy."

Anya tried and failed to fight a smile. "I can't let you starve."

Rune: "I'm eating!" He picked up another skewer just to prove his point, taking a familiar enormous bite, chipmunking meat and vegetable in one cheek and struggling.

Anya: "Don't choke," she insisted, lips still twitching in amusement. "It was an observation, not a judgement. Slow down. Take your time."

Rune: He only shook his head. Smiling did nothing for chewing, so, he waved his hand at her.

"Say something mean I can't swallow."

Anya: She raised both eyebrows at him, losing the battle against a laugh.

"You can't swallow unless I'm mean to you?"

Rune: "You're making me laugh!" he insisted.

Anya: "I am not!" She covered her mouth with her wrist to muffle the sound of her own. "All I said was don't choke! Do choke? Is that better?"

Rune: Rune covered his mouth in a preemptive measure to prevent spitting. Could someone hate how happy they were?

He managed to swallow.

"You're gonna get it in a minute."

Anya: She was hiding behind her container of salad. Being sprayed with half-chewed chicken was more than she could take, even as she continued to fight in vain against laughter.

She peeked over the lip of the box once he spoke with a clear mouth. "I'm completely innocent, here. Blame the chicken."

Rune: Legs on either side of her, arms splayed over the lip of the tub, Rune stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. He smiled, feeling a sense of peace and exhaustion.

"Do you remember the hardest you've ever laughed?"

Anya: Anya watched him, her smile softening, now that he couldn't see it. She tried to recall if she'd ever seen him so content. At least until his question turned her thoughts elsewhere.

"Hm. No, I don't think so. I've got a couple. There was a juice-nose incident that is way up there. And that time with you at Coney Island. The first time."

She stuffed the last few veggies into her mouth and set the container aside. "Why? Do you?"

Rune: "Mm. You're pretty high on my list, but I've only felt pain in my ribs once. Almost twice. Arthur is to blame for one because of the other." He could feel her eyes dance over him. Nothing about her gaze gave him pause.

"I told you he was a radio host. He could sound like almost anyone. He could pull an Abbott on me and almost kill me."

Anya: Her face came to rest on her palm again, the rest of her mushrooms forgotten in the face of his memories. He couldn't see her smile, but he'd surely be able to hear it.

"Yeah? I love that. So, what was the time that made your ribs ache?"

Rune: "Abbott and Costello. I can't recreate it. Maybe it's online somewhere."

He wanted to further explain. Go into great depths about his life, his favorite people, and good memories, but how much was too much? What was safe? Ah. This was the definition of jaded.

"Why do I... always feel the urge to open my mouth with you?"

Anya: "Maybe. I'll try to look it up."

She wanted to see for herself what had caused that rib-aching laugh. If only to have one more little piece.

"Hm. Trust, I guess. You know I'm not going to use anything you share with me against you."

At least she hoped he knew it. The absolute truth of it.

Rune: He didn't know what to say. Eyes still to the ceiling, still in debate on truth versus silence. Silence had always been as easy as breathing. One day he would say the wrong thing. Already had, as he recalled.

"The juice-nose incident one of those you-had-to-be-there scenes?"

Anya: Hm. Perhaps not. She wouldn't dwell on his silence. Fingers curled around her icy water glass and she raised it to her lips to drain it.

"I'm afraid so." Another truth. But she didn't mind sharing, regardless. She heaved a deep sigh at the memory.

"I was fifteen, which should tell you how ridiculous it was. My... friend, Sofia, was staying over. We'd been up all night, as one does, and we were the kind of tired that makes you sort of... delirious? And everything is funny. Anyway, a fly got into my bedroom. I didn't want to kill it, but we couldn't sleep with it buzzing around. I swear to you, we spent at least an hour trying to shoo the thing out. It kept missing the window, and the door. Sof had run out of ways to curse the damn thing, and she was very creative with her curses. Finally, we manage get rid of it and get some sleep."

She dragged a hand down her face, fighting a smile at the foolishness of it all. "We were having breakfast the next morning and a fly landed right on the butter. I don't know if it was the same one. Probably not. But we completely lost it. I laughed so hard juice shot out of my nose, which only made us laugh harder. My mother thought we'd lost our minds. We couldn't hear buzzing for a month without giggling."

Rune: Why pause at the name? Or it wasn't the name, but the title. His gaze fell from the ceiling, paying just a bit more attention.

And what a story that was. He couldn't relate at all. For a moment he envied her.

"You're right," he said gently, love behind his words. "I had to have been there."

Water was cupped and poured over his face and neck. Still too warm for his liking, but the surrounding air helped.

"Reinforces something. Bugs are your weakness. A bug whisperer's your arch-enemy. Was probably Sofia."

Anya: "Mhm." One shoulder rose and fell, her thoughts turned to yesteryear. The memory brought with it only a sense of fond amusement, which was more than could have been said for the Anya of a decade prior.

She plucked an ice cube from her glass and slipped it between her lips with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't say a weakness. I just can't make them do what I want." Any more than she could a human. She could live with the disappointment.

"If Sofia could control bugs, it wouldn't have taken us an hour. She was a mutant, though. Is. Not like she's dead, as far as I know."

Rune: Oh, to be that ice cube. He forced his eyes from her lips.

"Gotta start somewhere." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the rim of the tub, fingers laced.

"That long since 'hello'? She's worse than me."

Anya: "Much worse." Her crooked smile held no bitterness. "I haven't seen her since I was sixteen. At least we did say 'goodbye.' I couldn't tell you where she is, now. Maybe still in Poland, but I doubt it."

Rune: "One of those people you've told me about, fighting the good fight?"

Anya: She giggled, tucking the cube into her cheek with her tongue. "Probably. She was the type. Mutant and proud, and so on."

She'd been so afraid, before her. For that change alone, she'd been a girl worth knowing.

"I learned it from her."

Rune: "So I should find and thank her." He hadn't asked what she could do, and had no intention to. If Anya wanted to tell him, she would. A rule of thumb with mages he assumed was similar for her people.

Anya: "Thank her for what, exactly?" He didn't ask, and she didn't offer. Not out of any lingering loyalty, but because it simply did not occur to her. Her lips twitched playfully.

"For my unwavering confidence? I guess she did teach me how to throw a punch. You can thank her for that."

Rune: "You want sentimentality?" Alright. "For being there before me. For what you learned from her." He made a fist of his own, correct and scarred. "For giving you this. I look forward to the day you clock me." And she could take that as a joke or... not.

Anya: That-- was a far sweeter answer than she'd been expecting. Her smile softened, a hand slipping beneath the water to squeeze his calf. Until his last sentence had her cracking a laugh. She was highly suspicious that he meant every word.

"If I deck you, it'll be for a good reason. Unless you want to spar again. You can have that for free."

Rune: "As much as I enjoyed our last match, I'm too conscious to spar properly." His hand joined hers beneath the water and squeezed her fingers, only to come back up and scratch and nearly healed wounds.

"Are you a prune yet?"

Anya: "I'd be fiiiiiiiine." But it wasn't worth the battle. Maybe she'd drag him to her gym one day, so he could see her in proper form. A thought to entertain, later.

She raised her submerged hand to wriggle wrinkled fingers at him. "Yep. But I'm not cold, yet. Ready to get out?"

Rune: "Of course you're not cold. You'll look like a forgotten horror before the water's ice."

Water sloshed as he moved forward. Some managing to jump ship, unnoticed as he offered his lips.

"You stay." He was up and out before a possible protest, wrapping a black towel around his waist before sitting on the floor, back to the bathtub. Another container of takeaway was grabbed and inspected.

Anya: She returned the kiss happily, only having time to pout for a moment as he jumped ship. She'd boiled her poor man like a lobster.

But he lingered nearby. No real cause for complaint. He'd find bread or his pickled salad in the remaining containers.

Anya took the opportunity to examine the scrapes on his back. She was satisfied with the scabbing, and pressed her lips to his shoulder.

"Can you make one of those... magical holes, at the house?," she asked, running fingers through his hair. "I'm not rushing to get back into my clothes, but I should probably wear something tomorrow. So I'm not arrested, you understand."

Rune: Rather than hunt for a fork on the bag he used his fingers. Pickled carrots and egg given the same chipmunk treatment as the skewer. His hum praised a symphony of flavor.

But it was a race to swallow. He turned in time to nuzzle, not wanting to miss a bit of affection. Who knew when her have it again.

"Thought you were gonna steal more of mine." Wouldn't have surprised him. Not as much as her suggestion had. She was at peace with his magic, and it was still jarring.

"Mm."

Containers were pushed aside. There on the bathroom floor he settled on his knees. A ritual she had only seen pieces of, now whole. There on his knees he prayed the familiar prayer, placed his thumb on his forehead and thought of his home away from home. He then pushed his thumb onto the floor and circled, depressing a hole into the dark hard wood, causing a gaping hole opening into her bedroom.

"Don't have long." Rune breathed in. "The dresser?"

Anya: "I will. You'll be sick of me and my sticky fingers, before long."

She'd asked the question intending to act on it much later. She straightened with surprise when Rune shifted position right away.

"Oh, I didn't mean..."

He was already speaking; Anya bit her tongue and turned to watch him fully. The process was no less fascinating than it had been the first time, or the time after that. He was a miracle of a man.

She dipped her head at his warning. "Yes, that works. Will you be able to make it to the bathroom? The cabinet under the sink?"

Rune: "Mm." She'd have to excuse the caveman speak as he concentrated. He hadn't left a tethering line to her bedroom to ease the process. Just another tally on his ever-growing list.

He had wanted to. Thought about it. Just a few scribbles on a piece of paper wedged somewhere in her house would do the trick.

But for now, he hovered at her drawer. "Underwear? Letting me choose?"

Anya: Anya was far more absorbed by his focused expression than on whatever his hands were doing. He might have grabbed anything without her notice. Her arms folded over the edge of the tub, chin resting atop them. She dropped a quick glance into the hole, before her eyes snapped back to his face.

"Go for it. Top left. Tees are two drawers down, but my pants are all in the closet. May has well head straight there. Whatever you reach first is fine, really."

Her color palette hardly varied enough for anything to clash egregiously.

Rune: His arm through the hole, he felt blindly at her underwear, tossing up the first folded pair in his grasp. Down he went for a shirt before hesitating, looking his guest up and down.

"Do you need a shirt?" His smile was nothing angelic. "I've seen you in a dress. I'm hooked."

Anya: She wouldn't own to the faint pink in her cheeks. It was the heat of the bath. There was no easy excuse for her laugh.

"A step up from scrubs and khakis, definitely. My dresses are also in the closet. Even easier, that way."

Rune: "Ja, ja, Kapitänin."

Then it was off to the closet with a gesture of his hand. As slow as it had been to shift areas in Willemstad.

"What am I looking for? What about this green thing?"

Anya: Her lips quirked, still contently occupied with the angles of his face. She barely spared a glance to the contents of her own closet.

"That's fi- hm." It was a little short, and they'd left the drawers and their leggings behind. "The one next to it. The white one."

With dainty floral cutouts that teetered on the edge of modesty. She could enjoy another day with him, without thoughts turning time and again to exposed scars. It was thin, but his wardrobe was right there for the raiding if she caught a chill. Convenient.

"One and done. I just need my travel bag. It's under the sink. Blue, with little flowers on it."

Rune: Out came the dress from the hole, draped over the sink to spare it any accident. It was an interesting, bold choice. Had he made her brave, confident, or comfortable?

There would be no interview on the subject, only shifting gestures leading them toward the bathroom.

"Your house sitters don't stay over, do they?" he asked, flattening on the hardwood floor with a grimace to reach for the little door knob.

Anya: "Is that your way of asking if someone is going to see a random, floating arm in my bathroom?"

Her little smile widened. She could imagine June's face all too clearly. That arm would be at risk of a flying shoe, certainly. The thought tickled her.

"You're safe. No one is staying over. I'd be worried about one of the dogs or maybe Brutus, but I shut the bathroom door. The real risk was Honey, in the bedroom."

Rune: Something made him smile despite the chill. Her thoughts, certainly. He could see that shoe as though his own imagination.

When he felt a strap he pulled. Luck was on his side, bringing forth a blue bag with little flowers, just small enough to fit.

"Could steal her, if you wanted. I can bring living things through."

Anya: What had prompted that smile? Anya couldn't say, but it pleased her regardless.

Unlike the clothing she'd left to be set aside, she reached for the toiletry bag as soon as Rune pulled it through. She unzipped it with a flick, quickly re-familiarizing herself with its contents. Good, good. She'd be able to brush her teeth and tame her hair. She unscrewed the cap on a tiny bottle of body wash and sniffed it. With a please hum, she set it on the tub's edge.

"Really? Yes, I miss her. As long as you can put her back before morning. I don't want my neighbors panicking for no reason."

One corner of her mouth lifted into a teasing smirk. "Of course, this is all about me, and not about you secretly enjoying kinkajou snuggles."

Rune: There was not much time left on the spell; too much strain would close the delicate rift. For now, he pancaked once again, whistling and clicking in the hopes of seeing Honey's face rather than Brutus through the door he had opened.

"I'm usually about cats," he mused. "Then you sauntered into my life."

Anya: "That's what I do," she chuckled, peering properly into the hole for the first time since he'd opened it. "I saunter."

She craned over the lip of the tub, looking for any sign of movement.

"Honey! Dziecko? Gdzie jesteś?"

Any grinned to hear the excited squeaking from the cat tree near the closet. There's my girl!

Rune: "Pss pss pss." Was Honey a cat? No. But the principle was the same. Only one arm fit comfortably through the hole, offering wiggling fingers to entice her to grab.

Anya: A little more coaxing and a massive pair of eyes peered out at them. Seeing Anya's beaming face was motivation enough for her to cling to that hand, making her way up Rune's arm without additional nudging necessary.

"Hello, my love! Careful of her claws. I don't want her to scratch you accidentally."

Rune: "She has and she will again." And he would do it all again. What was a little pain when attached to something so precious?

"Welcome to Brooklyn, big eyes." As soon as all limbs were through, the rift began to shrink to a pinpoint.

Anya: "Is that true? Did you scratch Rune, moja skarbie? You be careful with him!"

Loving scolding that would go complete unheeded. Night had already fallen, and the kinkajou brimmed with energy. She let out a series of rasps and squeaks that bordered on too loud, shushed by a laughing Anya as she clambered up Rune's bare arm to reach her.

"Yes, yes. I missed you, too. Tell me all about it," she chuckled, dodging the creature's long tongue. No matter. With Anya out of reach, she'd turn to groom Rune instead.

Rune: "We're the only ones on this floor," he reminded, though, with enough determination Honey could probably wake the entire building.

Back against the tub once more, Rune lulled his head back, allowing the little creature access to his hair to do with as she pleased.

"Shall I get her some water?"

Anya: If Rune wasn't going go resist that darting tongue or those paws, Anya wasn't going to rescue him. She didn't notice her own smile as she watched the pair, affection written plainly across her features. Her chin came to rest on her arms, again.

"She's already been fed, but she might drink a little. You can take her while I finish up here. She's going to want to climb your shelves, fair warning."

Honey liked to look down on her domain, which now included a quiet flat in Brooklyn.

Rune: Then that would be a balancing act of kinkajou and tying his towel back to his waist. If not for Honey, he would have been in the buff. It was off to the kitchen for now, cooing at little missus and looking for a suitable vessel for one of the last bottled waters in the fridge. A soup bowl would suffice. The knives in their block were tucked away in a bottom cabinet, along with the dusty spice rack and tumbler of utensils.

Anya: Honey chittered tirelessly. She took to the familiar perch of Rune's head, scanning her new surroundings with vague curiosity. There was no cause for fear or apprehension, here.

Exploration was the top priority when they reached the kitchen. The little creature scampered down to sniff at bare counters in search of potential snacks.

On her own in the tub, Anya bathed with her usual efficiency. There was little sense in drawing the process out, when much more interesting things were happening elsewhere. Still, she'd take the time to drain and rinse the tub when she finished, and collect everything that they'd brought in. She only bothered with a towel to spare his floors.

Rune: The only snacks in this house were still in the bathroom with Anya. There was nothing in his fridge he would feel safe eating, let alone offering a little kinkajou.

He bared that in mind. Either he needed to knock on a door in this building, or a quick grocery shop at the crack of dawn was in order. He couldn't recall the last time he had stepped foot in a grocery store. There were people for that. People being one diligent nun seeing to the wellbeing of everyone in the building, and he hadn't laid eyes on her in a month.

Rune hadn't moved from the kitchen by the time Anya arrived. Arms crossed, hip against the counter, passively watching Honey explore as she saw fit.

Anya: Disappointed but undeterred, Honey had taken to her hind legs, stretching to her full height to open and sniff at the cabinets. That's where candy was always stored, yes?

Anya rounded the corner on bare feet. She set the containers with food on the counter, searching for the bid to toss the empty ones.

"Honey! Get out of those cabinets, miss. This is not your house."

Rune: The trashcan she sought was in the corner of the kitchen, staring at the empty floating shelves. The only source of food Honey would find would be a box of stale granola, a box of potato flakes, and various canned soups and pickled vegetables.

Nothing for a little kinkajou to steal.

Isn't it? he almost said, but kept his mouth firmly shut, but smiling.

"Not my daughter. Can't yell at her."

Anya: His daughter? She wouldn't prod him about that declaration, but she laughed, her heart doing a delightful little somersault.

She spotted the trash and tossed the empty containers, before moving to stand beside Rune.

"You know she's very well-fed, right? Not even a little hungry. You're going to spoil her."

But was that a complaint? Not even a little. She dropped a kiss onto his shoulder.

"You can give her some of that bread, if you want. Just not too much."

Rune: "She's already spoiled. Look at her. Thinks she can climb anything she pleases."

He thought his smile was private, but hadn't glanced to confirm. If she saw, she saw.

"Are we sleeping like this tonight?" Now he could look at her. Just a brief gauge and admiration before grabbing what remained of the bread to rip into manageable pieces.

Anya: "She's not spoiled." She was, but he wouldn't find Anya admitting to being the one to spoil her in a hurry. "She's... willful. There's a difference."

His question prompted another smile, one she didn't try to hide. Her fingers brushed along his exposed arm as she passed him.

"Mhmm. Don't worry. I'll keep you warm."

She scooped up the curious kinkajou. Honey seemed happy enough to burrow into her arms, despite the disruption. A glance into the cupboards had Anya shaking her head. She shut them with a careful nudge and crossed to offer Rune the little animal. "You're worse than I am. We need to get you more food."

Rune: "I see where she gets it," Rune muttered with a sideways glance and a smirk.

"More food? We have a feast." A piece of bread was offered once Honey settled back in his arms. She would be back in his hair in no time, but for now, he could distract her with carbohydrates.

"It doesn't get cold often. There's no heater, just the fireplace. It's... peaceful. If you ever do feel a draft, just make a circle of salt. You know... out in the world."

Anya: He nearly earned a whack for that remark, but the kinkajou kept him safe.

"Not for now." She shook her head as she watched Honey accept the bit of bread in her little paw, nibbling at it with enthusiastic squeaks. The greedy thing. "Food in general. At least a few non-perishables."

She was already formulating a mental list. Absently, she pulled the elastic out of her hair, letting it tumble out of its bun with a shake.

"It is peaceful," she agreed. Quiet. Just as she'd thought when she first arrived. "Mm. Salt. Noted. I've got some at the house, but I don't generally carry it around. It couldn't hurt. But that's what this is for, right?"

She raised the hand that still bore his ring. "You haven't asked for it back, yet. I think you need it more than I do."

Rune: Her hand was gently taken, thumb circling the ring. After a mere second, he shook his head.

"I hadn't forgotten," and he would leave it at that.

"Don't do that." His smile was internal and warm. "I'll be sneaking out at the crack of dawn for some essentials. You and Honey guard the flat from ghost and goblins and angry nuns."

Anya: For once, he'd receive no argument from her. She'd... hold onto it for him, then. For safe keeping. Biting down on a smile, she pressed forward. On the subject of food, she could definitely disagree.

"I don't mind getting groceries, but if you really need my skills here, then I guess I can lend them. Not sure about Honey, though. She's pretty expensive."

Her grin was as bright and brief as a flare. She stole a quick kiss from his lips and scratched at the top of Honey's fuzzy head before turning away.

"I'm going to brush my teeth. Not too much bread, Rune."

Rune: She had to be doing it on purpose. Offering sweet kisses she knew he would lean into; following the trail of her scent and holding back the chase. The outcome would have been quite different if not for the little creature in his arms.

A few little pieces of bread and another offering of water, and what remained of their dinner was placed in the fridge. Only his precious record player kept Honey in his arms, but there was no door to bar her. The case was shut and locked. He would deal with the records later. Perhaps a kitchen cabinet.

For a moment he stood in the middle of his living room, staring at the couch and nothing in particular, wondering how this had become his life, if this were true, and not some fevered dream.

Anya: Anya suspected that the continued quiet was entirely to do with Rune keeping the kinkajou occupied. The hour promised boundless energy that she knew she'd have to rid Honey of, before they could leave her to her own devices.

A handful of minutes later, Anya emerged from the bathroom. Towel still in place, and smelling sharply of spearmint, she paused briefly to watch Rune look at his apparently fascinating couch, before closing the distance.

Arms slid around him from behind, her cheek lowering to rest on his shoulder.

"Tired? I can take her."

Rune: "Just... taking it all in." Honey could go where she pleased. Now that the needle and spin table were locked behind wood, he had no motivation to stop her. There were other delicate things. A radio, pencils, a broken-off mug in the bedroom, a cross; other little things she could make herself a menace for, but the weight of concern had dissipated somewhere between Anya's footsteps and the warmth of her cheek.

"Ever stop and ask yourself if what you're living through is real?"

Anya: "Hm. Sometimes. I wonder if I'm dreaming."

Honey was more interested in climbing out of Rune's arms and onto Anya's bowed head. She made no move to stop her, accustomed to being used as a human jungle gym.

Her arms tightened their hold on his waist. "This is real."

Rune: "I don't know." His hand draped over her forearm, fingernails gliding back and forth.

Wraiths were his reality. Holding the hand of dying nuns and staining to catch their whispered confessions, that was reality. Visiting Anya was a sweet dream.

Anya: "What can I do to convince you?" she murmured. Honey was pawing through her hair, again, but Anya didn't budge. Time was of no consequence, right now.

Rune: Was it ironic? Poetry? What did this feeling mean?

He was in a room where he existed a thousand times. The same wood, same creaks and groans, same city outside of the window, and yet this was a dream. A dream because she occupied the room.

He breathed deep and slow.

"I don't know." But he squeezed her anyway.

Anya: She hummed, low and thoughtful. As surreal as the past two days had been, it was cherished time. Her reality far surpassed any dream. She wanted Rune grounded in the moment with her, not questioning whether it was even happening.

Amid rasping squeaks of protest, Anya plucked the little kinkajou from her head and tucked her beneath one arm. Taking Rune's hand was second nature. She tugged him gently toward the space before the cold hearth.

"How vivid are your dreams?" she asked, with a small smile. "I'll tell you something I've never told you before. Maybe that will help. Sit with me?"

Not waiting for him to accept the invitation, she folded to the floor, arranging Honey in her lap.

Rune: "Just awake with extra steps." Relinquished willpower was the exception that made the rule. But her hand tugged more than his fingers. Pulled back from abysmal thoughts, he joined her by the fireplace, wondering why here, now.

"You've your entire life to give me everything." Far from a decline, he invited her to offer, and never stop offering.

Anya: "Mm. Intense." And useful information to have, even if she wasn't sure how, just yet.

She chuckled, despite the situation. He sounded more present already. "I'm not giving you everything tonight. Just one thing. One tiny thing."

While she shifted Honey to the floor beside her. Occupied thoughts and occupied hands. She let the little ball of energy wrestle with her arm, unconcerned by claws and fangs. Honey was used to this type of play and knew to be mindful. A tiny scrape here or there wouldn't cause Anya to so much as bat an eye.

"Well, I've told you that I had terrible anxiety as a kid. I was afraid of fire, of strangers, of being left home alone. I had awful nightmares, most nights. But my father was the best at pulling me into the present and out of the past. He'd pull me into his lap, stroke my hair, and tell me to focus on what was happening right now. I'd tell him three things I could hear, three things I could smell, three things I could feel, and so on."

Her mouth curved, small, and warm, and private. "I haven't had a panic attack in... a long time. But it still works. And it helps me avoid them."

Rune: At first his eyes fixed on the floor between them, traveling to the empty fireplace, to the tiny squeaks of the playful kinkajou, to her hand and up her arm.

Why tell him this; was she alluding that he suffered the same? No, just... giving more of herself. That's what he chose to believe.

"Heard about making someone count. Guess it's true. I think of the ocean. The salt and the dull roar. I miss my lighthouse, sometimes. I know why my mentor stuck me there. No better place for time magic. You constantly have to move. Something to clean, something to fix, something to fill. But time just... stops. It stops because it's the same. Same routine every day, day after day."

His mouth twitched, managing to catch himself. That one offer of exchange had opened floodgates.

"Way to tangent."

Anya: She laughed again. Though, whether the sound was to do with Rune or the animal that dashed in half a dozen circles around her only to dive at her arm again was his guess.

"I'm pretty sure they call that a conversation, but my English isn't perfect," she teased, scooping up Honey to let her have a go at the opposite arm.

"It was like that at the zoo. The routine. We knew what to expect, and so did the animals. Cleaning, and feeding, and enrichment. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was exhausting, but I loved it. There's a lot of that now, too, I guess. But it's different. I don't know what injuries or illnesses I'm going to be dealing with. Keeps things interesting."

Rune: "So that's what that is," he smirked, shoulders sagging further south.

He could have told her a story. Elaborated on Purgatory, the Shadowlands, and the outskirts of Hell itself. The place for those who took life into their own merciless hands. He had told himself he wouldn't. Had made a promise to keep as much death out of her life as possible.

And then he remembered her mother.

"When did you know you wanted to leave the zoo?"

Anya: "Hmm." Anya didn't rush to speak, considering his question for a moment. She released Honey for another series of sprinting laps, this time around the coffee table. Zoomies, people here called them. An accurate term.

"I didn't, really. It was hard to go. But I knew I wanted to do more."

To put her veterinary degree to good use. To heal, as well as care for.

"I met an exotic animal vet once who's basically a nomad. He travels from place to place, helping out at different facilities or just out in nature. I might've done something similar, but my animals need stability. Fun to think about, though."

Rune: "If you didn't have animals, you'd probably have the van life. Live your version of nomad, saving every animal struck by a car on your way to... somewhere."

He took a breath. Slow in, expelled out like a heavyweight.

"Both suit you. I won't say what suits you more, but, as far as paths to take, you're in the better forest."

Anya: Her laugh was a bright and startled sound. That he knew her so well shouldn't have been surprising.

"I considered that. Doing a cozy van build. Driving across the States, maybe somewhere else. Back to Europe. I don't know."

She shook her head, tickling Honey's little belly.

"I couldn't leave her. Or any of them. It's a good life."

Small. Quiet. But good.

"She'll be worn out soon."

Rune: "You could have a cat. Two at most. I know a traveling psychic living that life. There's one in every friend group." He supposed he was that person for some. Jumping from haven to haven with just the coat on his back. All too easy to assume he had nothing to his name. From Anya's perspective, he had given her nothing else to go on for years.

"Despite appearances, I enjoy roots. I want my friends to have them. They make reliable places to sleep," he smirked.

Anya: "Ooooh. I see. It's my bed you're after. I know it's comfortable and everything, but that stings."

It was work to bite down on a laugh, lifting Honey to eye level.

"First my kinkajou, now my furniture. Nothing is safe."

Rune: Fingers gently brushed her exposed knee.

"Make no mistake, you came first. The rest is dividends."

Anya: "A likely story." Her facade crumbled. She caught his fingers in her free hand and brought them to her laughing lips.

"Ok. I guess I believe you. You'd have to be playing a long game. I didn't even have Honey when we first met. But you did mention playing me for Momo. I don't know."

Rune: "It wasn't Momo that ran over to me when I fell out of nothing. Do you do that with every handsome man falling from the sky?" he smirked.

Anya: She snorted softly. "I don't know. There aren't a ton of strange men falling out of the sky. At least not in the Bronx. You were my first, and my last. But knowing me? Probably."

Her head tipped to one side. It had been long enough. So much had changed. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Do you remember what you were doing? When you fell out of the sky?" The umbra. She knew that much.

Rune: He realized his surprise came from wondering why she hadn't asked sooner. That day had been filled with questions pushed aside with vague quips. Perhaps she had been waiting for the day he would offer the truth.

"I had been sleepwalking. I think... it was the Spirit Wilds. I could have been in any city. It's all the same toxic mess. Mm... most cities."

Anya: "But you ended up in mine." He'd sleepwalked right into her life. It was sobering to think that him emerging just one block over could have meant their paths never crossed.

"I'm glad that you did." The corner of her mouth twitched. "I don't know what I was expecting. That makes perfect sense, now."

Rune: "Why does it make perfect sense now?" Both hands reached for Honey, fingers wriggling to entice an attack. Whatever she did wouldn't cause a wince, barely a grimace. It hadn't occurred to him that he should pretend.

Anya: Anya dropped her into his lap with a smile, her fingers curving pointedly into a claw. It was a gesture that the kinkajou associated with play and would usually lead to a pounce.

"Because I know you sleepwalk, of course. And I've seen it myself. I wouldn't have guessed, before."

Rune: Oh, yes, that was a conversation they needed to have. But first, to make a go at Honey's tummy with his blunt claws. He was still learning how to play with her.

"Measures have been taken, here, so... there won't be any portals in my sleep. I might still wander around. We've been lucky, mostly, but if that happens just... turn me back to bed."

Anya: It wouldn't take much, he'd find. The prompt was enough to have her grappling with his hand, claws and fangs gentle, despite the ferocity of her little growls. A nip or two couldn't be avoided, but Anya wouldn't step in. She trusted the pair to play nice.

"Got it." Her head bobbed once in agreement. At least she didn't have to nudge him about their lack of clothing. Stumbling onto a random street without a stitch of clothing had to be... unpleasant.

"Is that something you can do back at the house? If it'll make it easier for you? More comfortable? I don't mind."

Rune: "I could. Takes work, time. This building is steeped in prayers and protection. Hears them every day. Making a portal is damn near impossible." Damn near; even the little window into her home had taken considerable effort.

His smile returned with a scoff, easing off the feigned aggression with Honey, letting her feel as though she had won with a limp hand, curious what she would do.

"What about nudity? What was that?"

Anya: "We have time." It definitely wasn't mandatory. She thought of a vague future, one in which he could rest without that added burden. Another task for his growing list, if he chose.

Without an active attack, Honey would sprint victory laps around them both. Anya's gaze followed the golden blur, but her laugh was for Rune.

"I was going to ask about us sleeping naked. I don't want you winding up wherever in nothing but your skin."

Rune: His smile reached his eyes. How dare she be so thoughtful.

"We can sleep naked." At the very least he would bang his head on the door; at most, he might make it to the ground floor before something impeded his escape. Had happened before, but Anya didn't need to know that.

"Are you ready for sleep?"

Anya: "I could sleep naked, regardless. But I don't know if that's fair."

The thought did make her chuckle. She caught Honey on her next lap, tucking her under one arm again.

"Ready for bed. But let me get this little one some water. I think she'll drink, now."

Rune: "It's absolutely fair. Liberating. Empowering." But uncommon. Most of the time, sleeping naked was a precarious occurrence in the bathtub. In his many years, he had yet to conclude why he slept soundly when wet. Just another idiosyncrasy that made him.

"There's a soup bowl out for her." Had been the logical choice, rather than a glass cup, she couldn't do much harm to an enameled metal bowl from the 1950s.

It was his turn to brush his teeth, splash cold water on his face, and weigh the consequences of an edible. Any aid, however small, to not wake Anya with his bullshit.

To the bedroom, then, to the small black and golden jar on the floating shelf, popping a clear oval gummy with a sigh. Not the strongest option in his arsenal, but the only one he would take tonight.

"Want the sound of the city, or some music?"

Anya: She only smiled her amusement, getting to her feet and murmuring gentle affection to Honey as they padded to the kitchen. As predicted, the play session had left the kinkajou thirsty, and far more subdued. Anya didn't hurry her along. She stroked at the dense fur between her ears until she drank her fill, humming softly all the while.

After a brief stop in the bathroom to hang her towel, Anya returned to the bedroom. She set a newly quieted Honey onto her bag, giving her tiny head a final scratch. The day would never arrive when she did not find the way the kinkajou sleepily sucked on her paw positively precious.

"She's not going to sleep until morning, but she won't destroy the flat, either. She might wander, but not too far," Anya explained, perching cross-legged on the bed. Fingers raked roughly through her tangled curls and she set about the business of plaiting them. "And whatever you usually do is fine. I haven't slept in the city in... a while, but I don't think I'll have any trouble."

Rune: Noise was welcome and he wasn't choosy. The clamour of Brooklyn, Amsterdam, Sydney, the hum and roar of endless ocean and groaning wood, music, a metronome...

His mental list was cut short, watching Anya smooth and twist her hair. Sitting like that in his bed.

He wanted to help, knowing good and well she didn't need his hands. But would she want them anyway?

Rather than ask, he sat beside her, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.

Anya: His weight shifted the mattress and she smiled. The brush of his hand had the expression widening. She wasn't seeking perfection, only to ensure that her hair was somewhat manageable in the morning. She thanked him, anyway. And though her fingers itched to reach out and touch him in turn, she'd lose all her progress if she stopped. So, she kept her hair secure in her hold and leaned in to brush a whisper of a kiss against his lips.

Rune: This time, he would chase her lips to victory, smiling triumphantly with heavy eyes once he tasted her. Only then would he collapse his weight on the old mattress, arm spayed over his ribs. If she wanted the towel from around his hips, it was hers to take.

Anya: Rune seemed content as he was, so Anya would leave him to it. Her little smile refused to dim as she finished her braid and secured it. She bent to retrieve the sole pillow he'd pushed from the bed before, dropping it onto his head with a chuckle.

"You might need this." Anya was happy to share, or go without. She stretched out beside him, an arm draping over his waist.

How many years had it been since that night? When Rune had scribbled down his address and she'd committed it to memory. She still struggled against a smile. "Took me long enough to get here."

Rune: "Too long," came his voice from underneath the pillow. A tired sigh later, the cushion was finagled under their heads to share, though he suspected she was content with his chest tonight.

"Some days, I thought I would see you in the hall, trying to remember which room is mine. Shitty days, I was grateful you didn't bother."

A yawn later, she was squeezed.

"Not everything's fate, but maybe this was."

Anya: "You might be right." She didn't know enough about fate to say for sure. But she was confident of one thing. "I'm really happy I'm here."

That yawn hadn't been missed. Nor had the heaviness of his eyes. With the faintest twitch of her mouth, she returned his embrace, propping her head on her palm.

"Go to sleep, Rune."

Rune: One eye peeked open, feeling the shift of weight absent her head against him.

"Are you watching me sleep?"

Anya: "Nope. You'd actually have to be asleep for that." A technicality she was happy to exploit. "Goodnight."

Rune: There was nothing to voice complaint. Nothing strange in her actions, for he had done the same in his sleepless hours. Better than moving and disturbing her sleep.

But still, he had to ask, "Not tired?"

Anya: "I am," she assured, arm tightening around him briefly. She'd seldom had such an opportunity- to study him without concern. To embrace the quiet. "I'll sleep soon."

Rune: "Alright." Rarely was he awake this long. Passing out wasn't a negotiation. His trust in her was the same as it had always been, proven soon with his even breathing, and the lightest barely-there snore.

Anya: Her smile was pure affection, but she gave nothing more, allowing him to slip under without so much as another whisper. She indulged in the simple pleasure of watching him for longer than she would have with obligations looming over head. But tomorrow was theirs. At least beyond the plans she'd have to make regarding her mother...

With that thought in mind, she settled down against his chest, just as he'd predicted, and drifted off.

#day in new york #day in new york part three #rune #anya #sicklysweetnothings

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