07-15-2020, 11:20 PM
When he sank into her Natalie felt the stability of her foundations waver. She had expected the cut, not the embrace, and soft surprise slipped the weapon of her own emotions against her instead. Her eyes blurred before she closed them against the sting, rising with vicious heat that clenched her jaw to iron. No hesitation marked the arms that reached to cradle around him, though. Her hand smoothed his head. Breathing came tight; a pain she couldn’t quite describe yet would not trade for how deeply she realised she felt it, and why. The pillar of her strength could bear them both. She would not crumble.
At some point in the quietness of self-restraint, the arms that sheltered pulled him tighter. Most of the blood soaking her through was his, and selfish relief finally stirred the ashes of grief before the seconds slipped away to the regret of denying what she felt. For the fears she had not allowed herself to realise when she could feel his pulse gushing from the wound in his side. For the fact that despite how his world burned, he was warm and alive and here.
She didn’t acknowledge Scion’s presence, or his words. Neither did she regret where he found them.
Her eyes searched Jay’s in kind as his hands trailed her arms in the moment that followed. If her expression was empty, it was only the rawness of weariness, not a mask to shut him out. Unshadowed honesty met the softness of the way he looked at her, unabashed by the way she looked at him in turn. She didn’t search for ways to comfort. Meaningless platitudes never armed her tongue, and if she was going to offer anything it would have been to lead him into the sort of solace denied by present circumstance. His lips pressed close, like he recognised that alignment of her soul, until hesitation marred like he feared a flinch away instead. Her hand cupped his jaw, thumb tracing against the roughness. He knew her better than to listen to the lies he told himself. “Tokeh,” she said softly against him. Her forehead leaned to rest against his. “The beach? That’s it’s name.” Her description had curled embers of seduction before, a beckoning into the waters of a frayed dream; beautiful illusion, the escape of a moment. This time it was offered tenderly. The certainty of a promise that sped her heart with more vulnerability than she was accustomed to feeling, let alone sharing. One day. A talisman for the darkest days lining the road ahead. For both of them, probably.
She hauled herself up on the side of the pool, but let Jay help her to her feet. Water sluiced, sinking a weight as heavy as her emotions. The boots had been a shit idea. Not that she’d been thinking of practicalities. She pulled the towel around her shoulders as the beating winds of the helicopter began to stir the air, and by the time they circled to the front of the mansion her tired composure shrugged into place. Jay’s explanation should have pierced her mind with question, but she only watched quietly. Her eyes did not turn away from the brutality when it came. Death rained numbness. Self-protective walls hid what she did not desire to feel.
The tangled web of politics thrust deep, banished with the rising acid of bile in the back of her throat, but for the acknowledgement that Scion would not risk Jensen James. Neither did she believe he would risk a Dominion, whatever prior convictions painted a useful enemy of an American interloper. Ambition meant too much. Thus no suspicion roused for their immediate safety, though neither did she consent to loading herself into the helicopter until Jay returned with his chosen oblivion. Beyond that, she stared out at the soft fingers of dawn, until the beauty turned her stomach, and she closed her eyes instead.
At some point in the quietness of self-restraint, the arms that sheltered pulled him tighter. Most of the blood soaking her through was his, and selfish relief finally stirred the ashes of grief before the seconds slipped away to the regret of denying what she felt. For the fears she had not allowed herself to realise when she could feel his pulse gushing from the wound in his side. For the fact that despite how his world burned, he was warm and alive and here.
She didn’t acknowledge Scion’s presence, or his words. Neither did she regret where he found them.
Her eyes searched Jay’s in kind as his hands trailed her arms in the moment that followed. If her expression was empty, it was only the rawness of weariness, not a mask to shut him out. Unshadowed honesty met the softness of the way he looked at her, unabashed by the way she looked at him in turn. She didn’t search for ways to comfort. Meaningless platitudes never armed her tongue, and if she was going to offer anything it would have been to lead him into the sort of solace denied by present circumstance. His lips pressed close, like he recognised that alignment of her soul, until hesitation marred like he feared a flinch away instead. Her hand cupped his jaw, thumb tracing against the roughness. He knew her better than to listen to the lies he told himself. “Tokeh,” she said softly against him. Her forehead leaned to rest against his. “The beach? That’s it’s name.” Her description had curled embers of seduction before, a beckoning into the waters of a frayed dream; beautiful illusion, the escape of a moment. This time it was offered tenderly. The certainty of a promise that sped her heart with more vulnerability than she was accustomed to feeling, let alone sharing. One day. A talisman for the darkest days lining the road ahead. For both of them, probably.
She hauled herself up on the side of the pool, but let Jay help her to her feet. Water sluiced, sinking a weight as heavy as her emotions. The boots had been a shit idea. Not that she’d been thinking of practicalities. She pulled the towel around her shoulders as the beating winds of the helicopter began to stir the air, and by the time they circled to the front of the mansion her tired composure shrugged into place. Jay’s explanation should have pierced her mind with question, but she only watched quietly. Her eyes did not turn away from the brutality when it came. Death rained numbness. Self-protective walls hid what she did not desire to feel.
The tangled web of politics thrust deep, banished with the rising acid of bile in the back of her throat, but for the acknowledgement that Scion would not risk Jensen James. Neither did she believe he would risk a Dominion, whatever prior convictions painted a useful enemy of an American interloper. Ambition meant too much. Thus no suspicion roused for their immediate safety, though neither did she consent to loading herself into the helicopter until Jay returned with his chosen oblivion. Beyond that, she stared out at the soft fingers of dawn, until the beauty turned her stomach, and she closed her eyes instead.