The Nest

[Ezvin Marveet]

Ezvin hadn’t expected her to be timid.

Not Cadence Mathis, who could command a stage with the promise of her voice alone. Where a wink and the world went wild. Who wielded melody like a sword and wrapped truth in verse so raw it left even seasoned session players blinking through emotion. But now. Here. She kissed him like someone stepping into the sea for the first time: careful, cautious, and quietly brave.

She tasted like the peppermint tea she’d been sipping, and something else. Something sweeter, warmer. A flicker of cinnamon, maybe, or simply the unmistakable flavor of sincerity. The kind of sincerity that couldn’t be faked because it trembled, just a little, on its first leap out of hiding.

When she drew back just enough for breath, not rejection, her lips were still close, but her eyes searching, waiting… Ezvin didn’t press forward. Didn’t deepen the kiss. He let it rest where she left it.

He smiled. That soft, boyish smile of his that rarely made public appearances but had a habit of showing up in these quiet intimate moments.

“I hope that was okay.” His hand lifted again, fingers brushing the edge of her jawline, the cold forgotten in the hush that lingered around them.

He stepped back just enough to give her space. Not because he didn’t want more, but because he’d felt the tremor in her touch, the nerves behind the boldness. And he didn’t want to shatter the moment by holding it too tightly. So instead, he redirected the current. Shifted its tone like a song slipping into a more delicate key.

He turned his face toward the cracked angel statue again and spoke lightly, almost playfully.

“I think she approves,” he said, gesturing at the broken-winged angel. “She’s a romantic, clearly. Likes the whole wounded-souls-meets-at-dusk vibe.”

The wind picked up, brushing snow off the shoulders of the statues, a soft rustle that moved through the courtyard like breath. His scarf fluttered slightly, and he tugged it tighter with one hand while the other stayed at his side, relaxed.

[Cadence]

There was only a slight disappointment that he didn't accept her invite, but she didn't expect it was for lack of wanting. The way he spoke to her - hoping that it was okay - made her feel like he had perhaps wanted more. His step back then wasn't because she had overstepped or had even been bad. Ezvin was just being respectful - a gentleman. Knowing him, he'd probably say something poetic about it - something like the moment had to be preserved. The thought gave her a smile because Ezvin was right.

"It was okay," she said, responding to his first statement after the kiss. There was relief in her voice in hearing that she hadn't done something that hadn't been wanted.

The tone shifted, but remained intimate. They were alone in the statue garden. Cadence couldn't recall if others had been there before or not, but being here in this space with Ezvin was still comforting. Her nerves were also simmering down to a less chaotic level and that helped immensely. Ezvin spoke of the statue's approval and Cadence gave a slight laugh. "You're probably right about that."

The wind picked up, but Cadence didn't shiver. She just looked at the garden, unmoving. She noted Ezvin's hand by his side, another invite maybe? She was feeling braver now, so she took his hand in hers without the hesitation of the kiss. She remained silent for a bit.

She took a deep breath before she spoke again. "You know...I've never done that before. With anyone..." she said. Part of her thinking that she should be embarrassed by that, but she wasn't. Just...doesn't matter why..." She smiled and faced him. "I liked it though." Honesty. It was who she was and she couldn't hold back from saying it.

It was then the cold started to sink in. It wasn't heavy or biting, but she felt it now. She adjusted her own scarf before wrapping her free hand around her body. They should probably head in, but Cadence didn't say it. Not yet. She didn't want to go in quite yet. She wanted to be in this moment a little longer.

[Ezvin Marveet]

When her hand slipped into his, he responded naturally, easily, his fingers curling around hers like it was a gesture he’d made a thousand times before. Maybe he had. That was the thing about Ezvin. He made every gesture feel genuine, and maybe most of them were. Her hand was cold in his, but not uncomfortably so. He gave her hand the gentlest squeeze. Just… an acknowledgment.

“You liked it,” he said softly, not asking but acknowledging. He gave a small nod. “Good.”

He felt the flicker when she’d said it. A stirring in the quiet gravity of her honesty. He could tell she wasn’t ashamed. But he felt something twist behind his ribs anyway. A twinge of guilt, maybe. And here she was, offering something that felt weighty, and he’d nearly waltzed past it on his own agenda. He held her hand tighter.

He turned his eyes back to Cadence. Her scarf tugged tighter around her neck, her free arm wrapped across her middle. The cold was creeping in again, just enough to make the breath between them visible. He leaned slightly, lowering his voice.

“Alright, Midwinter Mystic,” he said gently, with that teasing cadence she’d come to recognize as his way of softening things when the emotions became too real. “Let’s get you out of the cold before you turn into a marble statue yourself.”

With a final glance at the angel, he gave her hand a small tug and began walking slowly back toward the doors of The Nest, her fingers still folded into his. The silence between them was peaceful. Familiar.