Random 87

"Mhm?" made Sylvie, cuddled against him. She was smiling, her eyes nearly closed. For once she didn't want to be the person who started to talk about getting back to work.

"Trying to think of if I'll spoil the mood by asking why a girl like you is in the same bed with me in the first place. Don't mind me," he said quietly, eyes half-open and staring at her for a fleeting moment. Then they turned toward the shadows of the room. Sunlight felt good.

"Because I want to be," she whispered playfully in his ear, and kissed it. She had a more detailed answer, too, but that might spoil the mood.

He shivered a little, but it apparently wasn't uncomfortable, the kiss. "That's fair enough. That would be my direct answer, too," Sebastian said, pinching her side just the slightest bit in retaliation.

She grabbed his hand, her thumb on his palm, and saw to it he didn't start tickling her. If he wanted to play, all right. "Well, if you want a more detailed answer... frankly, I was missing sex." After a beat she relaxed and added, "And I trust you. I believe I'm more to you than some weird and exotic conquest to brag about to your friends." She swallowed and tensed a little. That had just come out all unplanned.

She managed to hit the scar on his palm, but there was no discomfort. But her expanded answer sent him blinking, then smiling just as it hit properly. Then, just to prove his point, he kissed her cheek and nose. "Where do I begin?" he said huskily. "One." Another peck on her cheek. "I don't brag about conquests." He paused and watched her. "Two, your judgment is right. I trust you and have been... hoping for a time before meeting you here that you might have... feelings."

He kept watching, placing an index finger on her eyebrow and smoothing the hairs there. "Three. Weird and exotic conquest? No. That's demeaning toward yourself. I think you did the conquering." His slightly embarrassed expression and slight flush spoke of something at least. He had to swallow, too, before turning a little and resting his chin on her shoulder. Sebastian managed to open his mouth, but closed it. Wordless.

By the time he had finished his first point, she smiled relaxedly. Surprise and curiosity snuck into her expression at the second. She closed her eyes when he touched her face. At the end of the third point, her smile widened, satisfied, downright smug for a moment, but quickly turning more low-key again when she saw his expression.

She let go of Sebastian's hand and put hers on his side. "Thank you." It was heartfelt, but did not seem enough. "I... I want to say 'I love you', but I'm not sure what promises you feel attached."

There it was again, the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil inside his head. What was it about that, anyway? His pulse had risen when her smile turned smug, and rose more when it went away. "I can only use words. Deeds matter, I'm told, but words... I could come up with some stupidly dramatic show of why I'd want to say those three little words myself, but that'd be insulting." He made a shrugging gesture, closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them into narrow slits.

"I feel attached. I've never, ever told my patrons to go fuck themselves, at least, and I've always had trouble getting out of the habit of walking alone." He reached over, grabbing one of her fingers between thumb and index finger, looking a little morose. "I told you I'd be there for you. And I'm scared because I meant it so badly."

"I'm scared of your gods." She looked at him with wide eyes shining with tears, and intertwined her fingers with his. "And I'm scared of being selfish." Crying and trembling with it she went on, "I want you, but I must try to find a way home, and--" she broke off with a sob and curled up a little, tilting her head towards his until they touched. After a moment she whispered hoarsely, "Alone and drifting drives me insane. I don't know how you could stand it so long."

It was enough to startle him. Very much so, the tears -- and they were contagious, too. "Look, don't be. I want you too. Badly. And I know how it feels to walk on paths, not knowing where you are, afraid at every turn. I don't know how I'm still sane. I probably aren't, and I just want peace now. And I'd choose being near you. You've helped so, so much." Blinking those pesky bits of salty water away, he leaned over to kiss her, whispering: "I feel alive now. I'll beg, pray, threaten, anything just to -- stay near what keeps me that way."

"I will hold on," she whispered back, and kissed him.

It was, all in all, pleasing. But the uncertainty still wrenched his heart. After the kiss, all he could come up with: "Hold fast, hold tight. I'll run after you if need be."

She gave a chuckle and drew back just a little so she could wipe her face. "Thank you. I can't thank you enough." She was coming together again, less twisted up than before.

His patrons not letting him go was a worry, but what could she do?

He sniffed but didn't bother wiping his own face, watching her instead. "Silly," he said, gently and with warmth. Then he looked at the bit of sheet that marked the distance between them, hesitating with a timid smile.

She took the good-natured teasing as just that, and gave it right back. She rolled onto her side so her body was pressed right against Sebastian's and asked, smiling, "Hmmm? What?"

"Three little words," he said by way of explanation, pressing tightly against her as well, almost but not quite knocking his forehead against hers, eyes searching hers. They were still a bit moist, and seen from that distance and in that slightly shadowed space, a little brighter. He didn't continue. Just put on a little smile.

She made another inquisitive noise, honestly confused. Her mind was not working at full speed.

Who dares, wins, someone had once told him, and it appeared this was as good a time as any. "You said you wanted to say those, but weren't sure about my promises of attachment," he reminded her gently, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "Started with 'I'. Should I?" Tempt fate? Make a fool out of myself? Mess things up? All valid possibilities, but it would--

She chuckled, closing her eyes, and said two words in her mothertongue. "Means 'I love you'."

He raised his eyebrows, digested the two words and then repeated them almost perfectly. The intonation may have been a bit off, but not by much. Then he said something in addition -- a language Sylvie had heard at the shrine. It was three little words, indeed. He looked at her, one brow still cocked, hint of a smile trying to show up on his face.