keeperofmagi | Fade Rift Inbox

That's all that I can ask of you, I know.

[He cracks a smile at her.] I don't get embarrassed. I was more frustrated that it happened at all. But it was late, people had drinks -- things will happen.

[The notation makes him pause a moment as he fetches his hat. The brim's soft leather is pinched between two fingers as he considers, then he shrugs faintly.]

When I think it is sincerely desired, I don't see why it cannot be sincerely given. But I agree; I don't want to regret it either.

But if someone is really... trying, then I think they should be given the opportunity. At least once. [The tone of voice he uses is softer.]

[She had let her hand slip out of his when he stood, and now she folds it into tunic, on her lap. A child's urge almost overcomes her - to tell him not to leave, to stay, just for the night - but she smothers it down hard and fast.]

... I won't deny him his chance, if you wish to grant it to him. -Her voice is also quiet.] Even if - it is not something I can do, I... trust you.

[She had to, or her shoulder would not be bare now, growing cold.]

[A smile is offered to Nerva. It's tired, but it's an honest one.]

Thank you, Nerva.

And I trust you as well. [Certainly more than Anders, but this was still important to at least... attempt.]

[The childish plea is there on her tongue - even nearly almost on her face, and it takes a good deal to shove it down. She has never needed another to fend off the nightmares. She did not need another now.]

I - will make it up to you. Somehow.

You have nothing to make up for as far as I can tell.

[Carefully, he watches her face; after so many years and so many card games, he's learned to read people incredibly well and their natures. For Nerva, there's something she wants to say, and isn't.]

But you can tell me what's on your mind, you know. Part of the whole trust and friendship with us and all.

[A heat crawls up her neck, her pale skin tinting red, the shame and the embarrassment causing the blush despite herself. She could feel it, and hated it, like her body betraying a weakness that otherwise would be invisible.

Her fingers clenched into the fabric of her tunic, unclenched and then clenched again. Self loathing turned her throat sour.]

I... It is ridiculous. But if I - if the nightmares - If I cannot sleep, I would - welcome company.

...Oh.

[That startles him, but he understands that is an immense sign of trust. To admit to nightmares, and admit to a need to anyone.

He couldn't tease her about it. That would be a disservice.

Twisted Fate removes his hat again. When he approaches, he leans in, hesitating before he's kissing her forehead.]

I'm here for you, madame. What are friends for, eh?

[The shame was so overwhelming that his small surprised 'oh' was near unbearable. A shimmer of panic, indistinguishable from rage, simmered briefly and she considered recanting her statement, declaring everything was fine and good day to you, Ser--

But then he leaned down, lips pressing to her forehead and her heart stopped - stalling utterly before slamming twice as hard in her chest, as if to make up lost time.

Some self deceptions were easy, intuitive - like a cloak worn upon her shoulders that she no longer even realized she wore. But then... Then there were times that it was impossible to deny something, even from herself. Impossible to continue lying to herself.

Merde.

She hadn't answered fast enough, the kiss having derailed her far enough to cause a hard reboot, but finally she seemed to notice the lengthening silence and forced herself to snap out of it. Her fingertips reached up, resting featherlight on the protruding bone of his hip, thumb carefully pressed to his skin.]

Thank you.

[The contact makes him pause. Were it anyone else, he'd go out of his way to seduce, to play, to flirt -- but he finds that he respects her so much, cares so much that if he were to pursue it, Creators, he'd want it to be real and lasting and it would be impossible and frustrating.

Besides, for right now, she needs the kindness of a friend. That is for her.]

You're welcome.

Where do you want me, Nerva?

[Where do you want me, Nerva?

It was an innocent question, or at least posed innocently, and from Fate that meant quite a lot - she knew just how easy it was, to tease her, especially flustered like this. Knew the restraint involved.

(Could feel the kindness.)

It was an innocent question, but did not come with incredibly innocent answers, and it took everything she had just to try to ignore the answers that her body wanted to give. The ones that demanded to override her concious mind. The ones that were suddenly very, very well aware of how small the room was and how close he stood and the deep, subtle scent - soap and leather and a touch of the forest - that she could taste on every breath.

It was temptation, pure and simple, and it had been a long time since she had to deal with it, so forcefully.

A long time since it had grown from such kindness. (If it had ever.)

Her fingers twitched with thought, but she didn't give into the urge to pull him down into her lap, but at the same time couldn't quite pull away.]

I-- I am sure it will pass. I should not-- [But the thought of dismissing him, now, was almost worse than the thought of begging him to stay, and it twisted her gut painfully.]

-- It will pass, but if you would... stay with me until it does, I would be.. extremely thankful.

[She shifted further up onto the mattress, to give him room to actually sit down, if he was inclined to.]

Of course.

[Carefully, Tobrevas sits himself down next to her. Nightmares and issues of the past catching up to you -- all things he's sadly familiar with, and he would not leave her alone like this. Not when it lingers as badly as it does.

His hand finds hers once more, giving a gentle squeeze.]

I'm here, as long as you need me to be.

[A dangerous promise, but she's already setting up rules for herself. Friends. He's here as her friend, and she will respect that.

It's more exhaustion, than anything else, that tilts her head until its resting on his shoulder, almost slumped sideways against him - as if she'd been holding herself stiff and poised for days and finally released the tension to simply melt in at his side.

A voice chides her in the back of her mind. Half for taking advantage of his kindness and half for believing that it kindness at all - like a rabid dog circling and snarling and waiting once more to be loosed.

But she is too tired, and it has been so long since she allowed herself to lean on anyone, that she can't help herself.]

I don't deserve it. But thank you.

I think I know what you deserve, Nerva.

[It's spoken quietly, knowing. It was an outburst from pain, and she's doing her best to reprimand herself. Enough has happened, and he's not particularly into a blame game right at the moment.

Instead, he sits, feeling her head on his shoulder, and it's warm and comforting to have. With her.

In due time, she slips off into a sleep, and he finds himself stuck.

But it's not in such a bad way at all.

After all, where else could he want to be right now?]

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