carbungle | IC Contact

...Yeah. As long as we can.

[It's all that he's allowed to ask for, he knows. All she is. There are no promises here, no guarantees. Any morning one of them could wake up alone again, could find an empty bed or even an empty house. That's how this place works. In many ways that's how life works. Just for a little while, though... he'd like to hold on to this, as long as he's able. No more taking this slice of happiness for granted.]

[ And this is what she adores about him, the quiet resolve to grasp at what he has, to hold it to him, all of it, as much as he can, no matter what or how many lights fall from his hold. If she is ever included among those lights, she'll count herself as blessed.

And, truly, she does feel incredibly fortunate, despite that she shouldn't be here. To fall for someone like him, to hold him, to be there for him, to have encouraged him to speak and express and cry what he feels about his fate (and her own)... she's wanted that for him. He doesn't need to hide his frustration any more or grief. He does not need to feel that it might make him seem weak. In her eyes, it's quite the opposite. Because he can do both, because he can state his wants and love others so freely, yet continue to be grateful for what he has and to move forward-- very few are able to do that. So very, very few. This is what makes him strong (among many other things).

Still.

It does not make it fair to him, that he must... ] Mm, Noct?

[He blinks up at her, quietly and cautiously curious, though he doesn't speak, asking only with his eyes. He's stopped trying to guess what she might say next when she says his name like that, and whatever it is, he'll accept it to some degree. He certainly owes her that much.]

I love you.

[ She says simply, plainly, looking at him as she holds him. At his best or at his most vulnerable, she continues to love him. She’ll continue to love him, no matter what he decides or what he does. ]

I love loving you.

[ She had told him before, she had never felt as if she’s only just begun living. Feelings, emotions are a part of that. She’s never felt more human until her time here. She cherished it all, especially him. ]

And I love how much you love others, too. [ To laugh with them, to cry for them, to feel sadness and pain and joy... he’s astonishingly beautiful for it. ]

If you and your family are looking for a way to change the future or past... you know my stance. But know that regardless of what you decide, I’ll still love you, okay?

[When she's finished speaking, he leans in and kisses her. How could he not? Through his grief, her words warm him more than he could ever say, a soft and steady support that comes without conditions- even, as she said, if he decides to fight his fate. And coming from her, that means so much more.

He won't fight it. He knows that already, and he hopes she knows it, too. Unless some guarantee comes about that will protect the world and still let him live, unless the result is better than what the gods have dictated for him and he knows it would be so, he won't fight it. A world that lives on is still better, even without him in it. But even if the outcome doesn't change, it still matters that she'd support him, love him. He hopes that when he dies, he'll remember he was loved.

So he kisses her, because nothing he could say would be better than loving her back and letting it be known.]

[ Her hands cup either side of his face as he kisses her, and she answers with as much emotion as she can to match his, a marriage of passion and grief. Pyra channels her sorrow for him, her love for him, her hope and her wants she would not dare speak into the kiss, her lips upon his, and wraps her love all around him. It's as easy to kiss him and hold him as it is to love him, his warmth and his body so near and soft and warm against hers. This is how she knows him, how she's come to accept him, this wonderful, dazzling person against her. Not only a king, not only a savior, but a star unto himself, the brightest she's seen. And when he's gone-- and when she returns home-- she'll hope to remember him. She'll hope to design her own constellation after him, anything, anything by which the world may remember him by, this incredible man...

Her cheeks are wet from her fallen tears, but so are his. And so she leaves his lips to kiss along his skin and the rest of his face, one quick succession of pecks after the other, tasting the salt upon his skin as if she could lift every single sorrow from him in the process. She can't-- she knows-- she can't... but she's doing her best, doing so as if she could, her hands moving past his ears to sift through his hair. ]

IC Contact | Hugtopia

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