[His responding noise is quiet but pleased, both with himself and her answer. He loves fishing, that much is certain, and could do it all day by himself, but... it is more fun with good company.]
[ A date, and she won't say no to that, now that he's thought of a solution to a potential ice-melting situation.
Pyra settles against him, lifting her mug of hot cocoa to her lips to take another sip. All the marshmallows have melted into the chocolate at this point, making the drink creamer than before.
She glances at him, something on her mind. The next topic, she fears, might put a damper on the cozy mood, but she'd rather check in on him than not at all, and he's so good as masking how he feels and whatever struggles he may have. ]
Mm, Noct? I wanted to ask sooner but...
How are you feeling? Is everything okay with you and Regis?
[The quiet between them is so comfortable and cozy that he'd be content to sit like that for a while without a word spoken; there is a certain satisfaction to be found in silence, sometimes. When she breaks it her voice is welcome, of course, and while the topic is less jovial and his smile softens a little, he doesn't lose it.]
I'm fine. [Ah, wait.] I mean, I'm okay. We talked, and... things are a little more complicated than they were before, but it's... I don't know. [He exhales heavily, a little tired, a little relieved.] It's kinda nice to not have to hide it anymore.
[He knows he doesn't have to express what "it" is. Maybe it's a selfish relief, but... he feels it, nonetheless.]
[ Pyra sets down her mug as he answers her, and when he's done speaking, her arm links with his.
He sounds sincere, relieved. That's a good thing. All that worrying over hiding his fate has been lifted from his shoulders. While telling his father the truth would have given him control, perhaps allowing that control to stay out of one's hands is a blessing in disguise, so as to not make such a difficult choice.
Now Regis knows. Now Noctis is relieved. Now they can build something new together, without such a wall between them. ] ....Mm.
[ She nods, quiet. ]
I see so much of you and him in both of you. Your care for others, I mean.
Really... [He thinks for a moment, musing over those words.] Someone back home said something like that to me, too. "You're just like your father."
[There'd been moments where he'd wondered if that should sting or be a point of pride; his first true act as king, without one of his retainers to "babysit" so to speak, and he was being compared to the man he'd wished could be here to negotiate instead. But Regis wasn't around, and he'd failed negotiations with Accordo decades before. Whatever his strengths and failings may be, Noctis had succeeded- and to be a king like his father is something he takes pride in, undeniably.]
Mm. [ She continues to smile at him, admiring him as usual. She had meant her words, comparing them to each other not through some kingship, but for their compassion, and she hopes he sees that, too. The both of them are more than the crown on their heads. ]
Well, I wouldn't call you exactly like but... Your deep want to protect others-- [ Whether that's protecting others from physical harm or an unpleasant truth, they exercise that trait. ] that's something you two have in common.
Pretty sure everyone knows we're not exactly alike in many categories.
[Her words are taken in good faith, at least. He is and is not like his father in many ways; they're both kind, yes, but in him is a temper and impatience that he's never witnessed in Regis, and the king possessed selflessness that he'd struggled to come to terms with. He's not sure he could have kept this secret to protect his father for 15 years, considering he'd barely managed to endure less than two.
Surely there must be other successes he could boast that his father could not have done, if he were to think about it. The menacing dungeons beneath the tombs, full of ancient daemons. Collecting so many Royal Arms. Technically defeating Niflheim, though most of that was Ardyn and the country eating itself alive. Mastering the ring eventually and claiming its power. Even through his failures, there was success to be found. He's... similar, but different enough, and although his heart will always put his father on a pedestal of strength and kingly wisdom, he knows he's doing them both a disservice to do that too much. He's... done okay, hasn't he? Come into his own. He's working on it, anyway.]
I was so mad at him, for so long... he lied about the treaty, the proposal... acted like everything was fine. Then I found out he lied my whole life about my future and what I'd end up doing. I thought, "he should have told me! Wouldn't that be better?" ...But then I went and did the exact same thing, for the same reasons. This whole thing... it helped me understand why he did it.
[ She listens to him patiently, watching his expression carefully. They've had a part of this conversation before, where she had suggested that him not telling his father wasn't exactly working for him, or that something had to give, only to come to a conclusion that waiting and Noctis' decision would be the best option.
Is she reading him wrong, that he now regrets it? It's as if there's still something unresolved in his tone, but she can't identify what. ]
What other reason could there be? To protect me, of course. And... I wanted to protect him, too.
[He smiles faintly, shaking his head.]
This fate... he must have fought against it, here and there. Tried to find other ways. Like Cor and Ardyn talked about. So him not telling me made the most sense at first- why would he say anything, if he was determined to change it? But there was so much else going on... and after two thousand years, no one else came up with a better idea. A few years in our generation wasn't gonna make much of a difference.
[He swirls his hot chocolate around, taking a long sip. The chocolate is soothing, a pleasant balm against the grim truth of what he has to say.]
What I have to do... it doesn't make anyone happy. And sometimes I think about how I might've grown up, if I had known for all these years. Would I even be the same person? Would I have bothered with friends, or getting to know people outside of the ones I had to know, like Luna or the Six? Would I have learned anything except how to fight, if it was all pointless? I... don't think I'd be me. I'd just have been like the walking dead, waiting for the Crystal to call on me. Life wouldn't have any meaning or value, so I'd have nothing to lose when I died. By not telling me anything, my dad... saved my life, even if he can't actually save my life. Does that make sense?
[He'd lived 20 years, believing it was a fragment of how long he'd exist in their world, when in truth it was all he'd ever get. Such a short amount of time, but it was... a pretty good life. He grew up, he learned so much, he gained friends and allies, seen a good chunk of what the world had to offer. For twenty years he lived.]
[ A part of her thinks he's discrediting himself. If Noctis had known the truth growing up, she would have liked to believe that he would have the strength of heart to love and have friends anyway. He knows the truth now, and he's still been willing to love and laugh in his borrowed time, to go so far as to enter a relationship with her-- even if they must part eventually. He's helped teach her that very same lesson. Surely, she hopes, he isn't just some dead man walking, as he is now. ]
I see...
[ But she can't simply believe he would have been capable, just because he's capable now-- applying that to his younger self would be unfair, illogical. While there can be debates on letting him known sooner than later, or the method of delivery, being raised and going through his formative years with the knowledge would indeed have changed him, as he's said. She takes his word and respect it, and...
It's tragic, in a way, that he believes his life had been saved in such a way-- not because of Noctis or Regis or any shortcoming on their parts, but because the circumstances and his fate could not allow him better. A fiercely protective part of her flares within her, albeit briefly. His life shouldn't have had a need to be saved in any literal or metaphorical sense of the word. He didn't ask for this, he didn't choose this. He should live--
But the world isn't that kind, and his world is suffering.
She can't say she'd do differently. In the end, she knows she would lie, too, to loved ones about her own fate, if they can live their lives ignorant and allow them some peace. Saving them, as Noctis has said.
Pyra's hand finds his. ]
....Then... I'm glad he did. [ Noctis has already expressed how he had previously felt frustrated and conflicted about it, but it's something that it seems Noctis has worked through and forgiven. She looks at him, emotion filling her voice, her gaze holding his meaningfully. ]
He allowed you to be who you are now, someone so incredibly wonderful. If he made that decision so long ago, then he did so perfectly, because you couldn't have become any more perfect than you are today.
[He blinks at that, caught off guard for a moment, though perhaps he shouldn't be. It's not unusual for her to compliment him, but the emphasis in her expression makes him pause before he says something playfully dismissive, to give her words the weight they deserve.
Maybe he doesn't always have the best opinion of himself, finding his flaws too easy to pick apart and overthink, while at the same time trying to project more bravado than he perhaps deserves, depending on the situation. But despite it all, he... he likes himself, who he grew up to become, who he's still growing into being. He's not as full of regret as someone who'd lived a poor life might be, facing off against the cliff of his inevitable demise far too soon. He can think back on so many good things, accomplishments and victories and so many good memories. Life has been hard, and harsh, and cruel. But so much of it was beautiful, too.
He squeezes her hand, lifting it up to his lips to kiss the back of it.]
I'm really lucky... I've got so much good in my life. There's a lot of people we'd have to line up and thank if we wanted to give credit how 'perfect' I actually am. [His voice softens.] But yeah... I'm glad he did, too. I'm not mad anymore, at him, or myself.
[Hiding it, not hiding it... he can't say for sure what would be the right decision, not really. The alternate version exists only as a grim imagination, not a reality he'd had to live through. He can't imagine it being better, though. He'd had 20 years of blissful ignorance, and his father had had a chance to know him here without that gloom hanging over their heads. It's a blessing, and he'll take it. No regrets.]
[ Then she'd thank each and every one of them too, all who have contributed and interacted with him to help guide or influence the man he's become today.
...She's glad that it's been resolved, whatever frustration he had as a youth that carried over to adulthood, and she's equally glad that he's found understanding through it. That's not a task many can accomplish, no matter how many years have passed. This is just another thing for which to admire him. ]
Do you think your relationship has changed, now that he knows?
[ Noctis had seemed to be worried about that, before. ]
[He huffs a long exhale, brows furrowing. It is a good question, and one he's been kind of playing by ear since his father woke.]
I can't see how it wouldn't, but... I don't know how it'll go, yet. I mean, I don't think it'll be a bad thing, but will it be better? Worse? We should be more on the same page, I... think.
[Really, he hopes. But he can't speak for Regis, and they're still working through it. It'll probably take some time.]
[ It's something she'd be worried about, and she can understand if he'd be concerned, too. Not allowing another to know the truth is so much easier in many respects. She's guilty of that to a fault. Only Noctis knows what she must do in her own world, too.
But time will tell, and there's not much more she can do. ] Mm... Then let me know if there's anything-- listen, anything-- [ She repeats for emphasis, lifting a hand to his cheek, giving the side of his face a gentle guide to turn his to hers. ] I can do to help.
[He turns easily into her touch, lips curling into a quiet smile.]
I'm not sure how I would've managed to deal with all of this if it wasn't for you, you know.
[She's been supporting him this whole time, letting him talk through it, guiding him but not directing him towards his choices, patiently waiting for him to decide. And now here she is again, helping him sort out the aftermath. Who else would he go to, if not her? If anything, he's taking advantage of her offers to help with it already.]
[ She's glad she took he chance with a potentially more morose topic to speak with him, to see how he's doing, and she's come out reassured that... he's doing fine, overall, and she's grateful to help in any way she can. This conversation has given her more to think about, too.
Her fingers slide from his cheek to his shoulder, and she takes this opportunity to lean in and give him a tender kiss. When she pulls back, her gaze drifts from him to over his shoulder, looking at something at just beyond him.
Then she takes his hands and stands from the couch, giving them a tug. ] Want to dance?
[He'd almost turned at her attention beyond him, curious, but the question is a distraction that works well enough, and he sets aside his mug as he pushes himself to his feet with her.]
Sure sounds like you do.
[Well, he doesn't mind. They're just at home with no eyes on them, and he's gotten better about relaxing with this sort of thing. They danced at parties before! This is no big deal.]
Then... grab your coat, if you need it. [ Maybe he doesn't need it, what with his newfound protective warmth of his own and her to supply extra by his side.
She glances over his shoulder again, indicating to the outside. ]
Let's dance out there in the snow, like we did two years ago.
[He considers it for a moment, but opts to follow without an extra layer; if they end up too cold, they can just cuddle up or go back in. He does remember to get his boots on, though. No dancing in the snow in his socks.]
Do you still remember the dance?
[At this point it's been so long he's wondering if he remembers it. Though the context of that particular dance is a little different now, in light of their current relationship.]
[ When he rejoins her, her hand finds his; together, they make their way outside to an area that's spacious enough for the dance. How could she forget?
She imagines it's chilly for anyone else who would be out here with the snow falling softly around them, but that gives her all the more reason to remain close to him to provide him with warmth. ]
Let's see... One pair of hands remains like this-- [ She gives his palm a squeeze. ] And the other goes like this. [ She pulls herself in, lifting her hand to rest upon his shoulder. Pyra lifts her head, looking up at him. Back then, she hadn't felt at all shy to dance with him. She doesn't feel shy now, and since it's been so long, she feels excited to try it again with him. ]
[He starts out tentative at first - it's been what, two years now? hard to believe - but the repetition and practice of his youth comes back to him gradually, all muscle memory and more confidence in his ability to move with and touch her than he'd had back then. It takes less time for him to lift his gaze and focus on her, rather than their shifting feet, less time to smile and relax as they flow through each stage of the dance. Where once he was nervous and stumbling over directions, now his shoulders are lifted, his back straight, his hands gliding easily from one position to another against her. Where once he couldn't decide where to rest his eyes and darted them uncertainly around, now he watches her move, echoing her body language, her joy. Where once he was sad and quiet, carrying the heavy burden of a fallen kingdom, now he is settled into the path he's meant to take, living in his borrowed time as happily as he's able. Rather than a lesson, this feels more like a true representation of what the dance would be like, ceremonially and emotionally, between two bonded partners. They've come a long way, and even he recognizes it.
He spins her out towards each corner, his arms opening up to welcome her back each time before he sends her out once more. They turn, they circle, dancing to a tune heard only in their minds. When they reach the finale, he needs no permission from her this time: his hands touch her waist and raise her up, turning them about in a full circle, before he lowers her into the one-handed dip, the other raised up towards the sun. He poses, he waits, he breathes.
The disturbed snow at their feet paints the vague silhouette of a flower, with the two perfectly centered.]
[ Her motions fall right into line with his, following his lead wherever the next step of the dance takes them. Out with a spin, in to his arm, and out then in again, drawing a pattern in the snow with each of their steps. She's grinning by the second rotation, earrings swaying with the dance and crimson hair falling against her cheeks at the end of a turn.
Pyra remembers the dance, certainly, but between that first dance and now, she remembers all else she has gone through, all else he has gone through, all they have helped each other with together. This dance paints a sigil into the ground, but between the dancers themselves, it illustrates all the trust between them, the journey they've been through, and creates something beautiful of it. When he places his hands about her waist for the lip, her hands goes to his shoulders to assist, her eyes locking with his as he turns her in the air. She's giggling softy, happily by the time her feet find their balance on the ground, and from there it's finale with the dip, once more supported by him.
If it wouldn't upset their balance further, she would kiss him in this position, and she hopes the sentiment is there when her palm finds its way to his cheek and her gaze remains lost in his. She's breathless-- not from the dance itself, but from all that it's evoked. It occurs to her that a simple dance shouldn't be this overwhelming, but when it's with him, when a dance shared again from two years past means so much (that they're both still here, that they're together, that they had this memory and can repeat it again, as if building a tradition of their own)-- ]
N-Noct...
[ She has no words at the moment, not really. She has only the love in her eyes and the gentleness of her touch, the affection and warmth to share with her body and palm against him. She has so much of that adoration and love she wants to give him, but can't be given in a single moment. ]
Oh shit, [he utters, somewhat helplessly, grinning like a damned fool. They did it. They actually- it went great. The flower beneath them is a hot mess, nothing so neat as what it would look like on the grand marble of a Lucian ballroom, but he can see it and that's the true goal. He held her, he didn't fall. They remembered the steps. He didn't even slip in the snow and drop her! They'd been completely in sync the whole time, like they'd done it a hundred times before.
It's just... symbolic, it means nothing in the grand scheme of things. There's no kingdom or citizenry to support, no walls to build. This tradition should be dead and gone. But to him, in this moment, it feels like a tremendous success, and one he truly can't find words for.
Carefully he pulls her back up to her feet, supporting her with both hands, and for a moment just quietly marvels at it all, at her, at this inconsequential yet at the same time monumental victory. He leans in to kiss her once, twice, both hasty and wild.]
[ She smiles into his kisses, and settled back on her feet, she's stable enough to give him one in return. With the dance over, she clasps her hands together behind his neck, idly swaying with him in the center of the flower-pattern they've drawn. ]
Is that so surprising?
[ His excitement is infectious as she takes in his expression. Architect, he's practically glowing with a grin like that. Anyone who says he's a poor dancer doesn't know him, and whenever he insists that he's not a good dancer, either, she'll be quick to remind him of how flawlessly he can. ]
[He wouldn't feel so exuberantly flustered if he'd expected it to go that well. She's always had an excellent memory (and with how he understands the crystal now, that part isn't a surprise) and meanwhile, he's lucky if he remembers to mend a loose button hours after being reminded. Phone alerts will spare him from missing important dates, but a dance practiced for a wedding that never happened years ago? That's a taller ask. Yet somehow it had all just... clicked.]
Maybe I've... been overthinking it this whole time.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's a date.
no subject
Pyra settles against him, lifting her mug of hot cocoa to her lips to take another sip. All the marshmallows have melted into the chocolate at this point, making the drink creamer than before.
She glances at him, something on her mind. The next topic, she fears, might put a damper on the cozy mood, but she'd rather check in on him than not at all, and he's so good as masking how he feels and whatever struggles he may have. ]
Mm, Noct? I wanted to ask sooner but...
How are you feeling? Is everything okay with you and Regis?
no subject
I'm fine. [Ah, wait.] I mean, I'm okay. We talked, and... things are a little more complicated than they were before, but it's... I don't know. [He exhales heavily, a little tired, a little relieved.] It's kinda nice to not have to hide it anymore.
[He knows he doesn't have to express what "it" is. Maybe it's a selfish relief, but... he feels it, nonetheless.]
no subject
He sounds sincere, relieved. That's a good thing. All that worrying over hiding his fate has been lifted from his shoulders. While telling his father the truth would have given him control, perhaps allowing that control to stay out of one's hands is a blessing in disguise, so as to not make such a difficult choice.
Now Regis knows. Now Noctis is relieved. Now they can build something new together, without such a wall between them. ] ....Mm.
[ She nods, quiet. ]
I see so much of you and him in both of you. Your care for others, I mean.
no subject
[There'd been moments where he'd wondered if that should sting or be a point of pride; his first true act as king, without one of his retainers to "babysit" so to speak, and he was being compared to the man he'd wished could be here to negotiate instead. But Regis wasn't around, and he'd failed negotiations with Accordo decades before. Whatever his strengths and failings may be, Noctis had succeeded- and to be a king like his father is something he takes pride in, undeniably.]
no subject
Well, I wouldn't call you exactly like but... Your deep want to protect others-- [ Whether that's protecting others from physical harm or an unpleasant truth, they exercise that trait. ] that's something you two have in common.
no subject
[Her words are taken in good faith, at least. He is and is not like his father in many ways; they're both kind, yes, but in him is a temper and impatience that he's never witnessed in Regis, and the king possessed selflessness that he'd struggled to come to terms with. He's not sure he could have kept this secret to protect his father for 15 years, considering he'd barely managed to endure less than two.
Surely there must be other successes he could boast that his father could not have done, if he were to think about it. The menacing dungeons beneath the tombs, full of ancient daemons. Collecting so many Royal Arms. Technically defeating Niflheim, though most of that was Ardyn and the country eating itself alive. Mastering the ring eventually and claiming its power. Even through his failures, there was success to be found. He's... similar, but different enough, and although his heart will always put his father on a pedestal of strength and kingly wisdom, he knows he's doing them both a disservice to do that too much. He's... done okay, hasn't he? Come into his own. He's working on it, anyway.]
I was so mad at him, for so long... he lied about the treaty, the proposal... acted like everything was fine. Then I found out he lied my whole life about my future and what I'd end up doing. I thought, "he should have told me! Wouldn't that be better?" ...But then I went and did the exact same thing, for the same reasons. This whole thing... it helped me understand why he did it.
no subject
Is she reading him wrong, that he now regrets it? It's as if there's still something unresolved in his tone, but she can't identify what. ]
And... why do you think he did? Or... you did?
no subject
[He smiles faintly, shaking his head.]
This fate... he must have fought against it, here and there. Tried to find other ways. Like Cor and Ardyn talked about. So him not telling me made the most sense at first- why would he say anything, if he was determined to change it? But there was so much else going on... and after two thousand years, no one else came up with a better idea. A few years in our generation wasn't gonna make much of a difference.
[He swirls his hot chocolate around, taking a long sip. The chocolate is soothing, a pleasant balm against the grim truth of what he has to say.]
What I have to do... it doesn't make anyone happy. And sometimes I think about how I might've grown up, if I had known for all these years. Would I even be the same person? Would I have bothered with friends, or getting to know people outside of the ones I had to know, like Luna or the Six? Would I have learned anything except how to fight, if it was all pointless? I... don't think I'd be me. I'd just have been like the walking dead, waiting for the Crystal to call on me. Life wouldn't have any meaning or value, so I'd have nothing to lose when I died. By not telling me anything, my dad... saved my life, even if he can't actually save my life. Does that make sense?
[He'd lived 20 years, believing it was a fragment of how long he'd exist in their world, when in truth it was all he'd ever get. Such a short amount of time, but it was... a pretty good life. He grew up, he learned so much, he gained friends and allies, seen a good chunk of what the world had to offer. For twenty years he lived.]
no subject
I see...
[ But she can't simply believe he would have been capable, just because he's capable now-- applying that to his younger self would be unfair, illogical. While there can be debates on letting him known sooner than later, or the method of delivery, being raised and going through his formative years with the knowledge would indeed have changed him, as he's said. She takes his word and respect it, and...
It's tragic, in a way, that he believes his life had been saved in such a way-- not because of Noctis or Regis or any shortcoming on their parts, but because the circumstances and his fate could not allow him better. A fiercely protective part of her flares within her, albeit briefly. His life shouldn't have had a need to be saved in any literal or metaphorical sense of the word. He didn't ask for this, he didn't choose this. He should live--
But the world isn't that kind, and his world is suffering.
She can't say she'd do differently. In the end, she knows she would lie, too, to loved ones about her own fate, if they can live their lives ignorant and allow them some peace. Saving them, as Noctis has said.
Pyra's hand finds his. ]
....Then... I'm glad he did. [ Noctis has already expressed how he had previously felt frustrated and conflicted about it, but it's something that it seems Noctis has worked through and forgiven. She looks at him, emotion filling her voice, her gaze holding his meaningfully. ]
He allowed you to be who you are now, someone so incredibly wonderful. If he made that decision so long ago, then he did so perfectly, because you couldn't have become any more perfect than you are today.
no subject
Maybe he doesn't always have the best opinion of himself, finding his flaws too easy to pick apart and overthink, while at the same time trying to project more bravado than he perhaps deserves, depending on the situation. But despite it all, he... he likes himself, who he grew up to become, who he's still growing into being. He's not as full of regret as someone who'd lived a poor life might be, facing off against the cliff of his inevitable demise far too soon. He can think back on so many good things, accomplishments and victories and so many good memories. Life has been hard, and harsh, and cruel. But so much of it was beautiful, too.
He squeezes her hand, lifting it up to his lips to kiss the back of it.]
I'm really lucky... I've got so much good in my life. There's a lot of people we'd have to line up and thank if we wanted to give credit how 'perfect' I actually am. [His voice softens.] But yeah... I'm glad he did, too. I'm not mad anymore, at him, or myself.
[Hiding it, not hiding it... he can't say for sure what would be the right decision, not really. The alternate version exists only as a grim imagination, not a reality he'd had to live through. He can't imagine it being better, though. He'd had 20 years of blissful ignorance, and his father had had a chance to know him here without that gloom hanging over their heads. It's a blessing, and he'll take it. No regrets.]
no subject
...She's glad that it's been resolved, whatever frustration he had as a youth that carried over to adulthood, and she's equally glad that he's found understanding through it. That's not a task many can accomplish, no matter how many years have passed. This is just another thing for which to admire him. ]
Do you think your relationship has changed, now that he knows?
[ Noctis had seemed to be worried about that, before. ]
no subject
[He huffs a long exhale, brows furrowing. It is a good question, and one he's been kind of playing by ear since his father woke.]
I can't see how it wouldn't, but... I don't know how it'll go, yet. I mean, I don't think it'll be a bad thing, but will it be better? Worse? We should be more on the same page, I... think.
[Really, he hopes. But he can't speak for Regis, and they're still working through it. It'll probably take some time.]
no subject
But time will tell, and there's not much more she can do. ] Mm... Then let me know if there's anything-- listen, anything-- [ She repeats for emphasis, lifting a hand to his cheek, giving the side of his face a gentle guide to turn his to hers. ] I can do to help.
no subject
[He turns easily into her touch, lips curling into a quiet smile.]
I'm not sure how I would've managed to deal with all of this if it wasn't for you, you know.
[She's been supporting him this whole time, letting him talk through it, guiding him but not directing him towards his choices, patiently waiting for him to decide. And now here she is again, helping him sort out the aftermath. Who else would he go to, if not her? If anything, he's taking advantage of her offers to help with it already.]
no subject
Her fingers slide from his cheek to his shoulder, and she takes this opportunity to lean in and give him a tender kiss. When she pulls back, her gaze drifts from him to over his shoulder, looking at something at just beyond him.
Then she takes his hands and stands from the couch, giving them a tug. ] Want to dance?
no subject
Sure sounds like you do.
[Well, he doesn't mind. They're just at home with no eyes on them, and he's gotten better about relaxing with this sort of thing. They danced at parties before! This is no big deal.]
It's been a while, huh?
no subject
She glances over his shoulder again, indicating to the outside. ]
Let's dance out there in the snow, like we did two years ago.
no subject
Do you still remember the dance?
[At this point it's been so long he's wondering if he remembers it. Though the context of that particular dance is a little different now, in light of their current relationship.]
no subject
She imagines it's chilly for anyone else who would be out here with the snow falling softly around them, but that gives her all the more reason to remain close to him to provide him with warmth. ]
Let's see... One pair of hands remains like this-- [ She gives his palm a squeeze. ] And the other goes like this. [ She pulls herself in, lifting her hand to rest upon his shoulder. Pyra lifts her head, looking up at him. Back then, she hadn't felt at all shy to dance with him. She doesn't feel shy now, and since it's been so long, she feels excited to try it again with him. ]
no subject
He spins her out towards each corner, his arms opening up to welcome her back each time before he sends her out once more. They turn, they circle, dancing to a tune heard only in their minds. When they reach the finale, he needs no permission from her this time: his hands touch her waist and raise her up, turning them about in a full circle, before he lowers her into the one-handed dip, the other raised up towards the sun. He poses, he waits, he breathes.
The disturbed snow at their feet paints the vague silhouette of a flower, with the two perfectly centered.]
no subject
Pyra remembers the dance, certainly, but between that first dance and now, she remembers all else she has gone through, all else he has gone through, all they have helped each other with together. This dance paints a sigil into the ground, but between the dancers themselves, it illustrates all the trust between them, the journey they've been through, and creates something beautiful of it. When he places his hands about her waist for the lip, her hands goes to his shoulders to assist, her eyes locking with his as he turns her in the air. She's giggling softy, happily by the time her feet find their balance on the ground, and from there it's finale with the dip, once more supported by him.
If it wouldn't upset their balance further, she would kiss him in this position, and she hopes the sentiment is there when her palm finds its way to his cheek and her gaze remains lost in his. She's breathless-- not from the dance itself, but from all that it's evoked. It occurs to her that a simple dance shouldn't be this overwhelming, but when it's with him, when a dance shared again from two years past means so much (that they're both still here, that they're together, that they had this memory and can repeat it again, as if building a tradition of their own)-- ]
N-Noct...
[ She has no words at the moment, not really. She has only the love in her eyes and the gentleness of her touch, the affection and warmth to share with her body and palm against him. She has so much of that adoration and love she wants to give him, but can't be given in a single moment. ]
no subject
It's just... symbolic, it means nothing in the grand scheme of things. There's no kingdom or citizenry to support, no walls to build. This tradition should be dead and gone. But to him, in this moment, it feels like a tremendous success, and one he truly can't find words for.
Carefully he pulls her back up to her feet, supporting her with both hands, and for a moment just quietly marvels at it all, at her, at this inconsequential yet at the same time monumental victory. He leans in to kiss her once, twice, both hasty and wild.]
Oh man. Oh man! Did we seriously just do that?
no subject
Is that so surprising?
[ His excitement is infectious as she takes in his expression. Architect, he's practically glowing with a grin like that. Anyone who says he's a poor dancer doesn't know him, and whenever he insists that he's not a good dancer, either, she'll be quick to remind him of how flawlessly he can. ]
no subject
[He wouldn't feel so exuberantly flustered if he'd expected it to go that well. She's always had an excellent memory (and with how he understands the crystal now, that part isn't a surprise) and meanwhile, he's lucky if he remembers to mend a loose button hours after being reminded. Phone alerts will spare him from missing important dates, but a dance practiced for a wedding that never happened years ago? That's a taller ask. Yet somehow it had all just... clicked.]
Maybe I've... been overthinking it this whole time.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)