[ it is bad timing. if she hadn't just thrown up a bunch of flowers to sober up some, it wouldn't be happening at all. but despite the wrongness, there is a sort of easy relief that works itself loose from his nerves when the pieces slide into place and things sort of—make sense, for once. they really did end up torturing themselves.
so he nods, dipping in enough that her hands can find a place on his shoulders, and there is no pause when he kisses her, hand still resting against her cheek. it's gentle, but deliberately so, and not for any lack of conviction. and it's... nice? and it's warm, and simpler than he expects. there's been a lot of kissing between all the games and curses and everything else, even between the two of them, but it hits very differently when it's on your own terms.
just a couple sweet seconds and he draws back. ]
...Whatever's happened, don't be afraid. [ they're on the same page, even if neither of them really knows what that means exactly and there's no time to figure it out. he's still her friend, as much as anything else. it'd be nice if she felt she could be brave again, as she often fiercely is.
but then he smiles, because the gravitas of this is starting to make him feel sheepish. ] I will make the same amount of mistakes tenfold and make you look much better, don't worry.
[She thinks, madly, of the way she'd pulled a chair over to make this easier at the first party. Back then it was very new and very silly, and everyone was strangers and she'd only just realized that kisses didn't have to mean so much.
Some still do.
He's very tender with her. She's grown to dislike being treated as fragile, but it's not that sort of softness. This is more appreciative. Maybe reserved, the weight of the moment pressing both down to timidity. It doesn't stop her pulse from pounding in her ears, or her chest from squeezing flat, for a blank, bright cacophony to stun her mind to silence.
It ends. He pulls away and her heart remembers how to beat again. Her mouth takes a little longer on the uptake.]
[ don't worry, gentleness is as much for him as her. it's been a long couple months. for someone who tends to run face-first into things, this in particular is something he's trying to handle delicately. probably why he's doing such a bad job, actually.
he laughs, putting his hands atop of hers. ]
We can compare scars.
[ he feels a little lighter, but also sort of abuzz, everywhere, if also kind of—guilty. it's a lot. he tries to breathe it out in a huff, a ruffle of all his fins. ]
—I'm rather done with partying. [ he loves celebrations, but a private moment with someone is just as nice. ] Let's go get some water? Sounds like we've things to catch up on.
[The laughter tugs a smile from her, and the warmth of his hand draws her a little bit further from the stupor. His fins do that darling ruffle and she has to hold herself back from reaching for one. He has no idea of his own charms, does he?]
I'd like that. [She nods her head, blowing out a measured breath, a tentative grin edging onto her cheeks.] I'd like that very much, Sidon.
[Maybe this is all right? Definitions should be left for definite feelings. They're still working it out on both ends, and with a battle incoming it's easy to rush things. Dion had told her about that, as had Margaret and Harley. She doesn't want that, not yet. Maybe someday?
She hadn't started that whole Never Have I Ever mess without reason. It makes her envious to think about, just not enough to delve into yet. Talk is better. Good company is better.
And Sidon is the best company of all.
She moves her hand to take his, properly, and motions with her head towards the dorms.]
[ it'd be much easier to rush headlong into something—it fits better with his modus operandi too, actually. of course he'd get caught up in a flurry of feelings when there's a huge battle on the horizon, one that'd make his blood boil.
but it feels more right not to, just this once. the smile she finds is proof of that, and he mirrors it. ]
Let's!
[ bye forever party, hello dorms. he gives her a minute to get situated, long enough to fetch her a water bottle and seat himself beside her bed. he's tall enough that the ground is often the easiest perch. handing her the water, ]
What a way to round off our journey, hm? [ this mess of a party, and a battle with a god. ]
Indeed. [Said with a sigh and a heavy flop onto the bed cushions. Her water is off on the bedside stand, and she lets herself lay down to comfort her spinning head. She does bring her knees in though, making room for Sidon to sit.
It's rather unfair that he has to move so preciously throughout the ship, she thinks. He's so tall and scarcely anything accommodates him. Rosamund rolls onto her side, pulling a pillow under her head as she ponders him.]
It's kind of nice, though? That everyone's so open to celebrating, whenever they can. We could be going into this very grimly and seriously.
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so he nods, dipping in enough that her hands can find a place on his shoulders, and there is no pause when he kisses her, hand still resting against her cheek. it's gentle, but deliberately so, and not for any lack of conviction. and it's... nice? and it's warm, and simpler than he expects. there's been a lot of kissing between all the games and curses and everything else, even between the two of them, but it hits very differently when it's on your own terms.
just a couple sweet seconds and he draws back. ]
...Whatever's happened, don't be afraid. [ they're on the same page, even if neither of them really knows what that means exactly and there's no time to figure it out. he's still her friend, as much as anything else. it'd be nice if she felt she could be brave again, as she often fiercely is.
but then he smiles, because the gravitas of this is starting to make him feel sheepish. ] I will make the same amount of mistakes tenfold and make you look much better, don't worry.
no subject
Some still do.
He's very tender with her. She's grown to dislike being treated as fragile, but it's not that sort of softness. This is more appreciative. Maybe reserved, the weight of the moment pressing both down to timidity. It doesn't stop her pulse from pounding in her ears, or her chest from squeezing flat, for a blank, bright cacophony to stun her mind to silence.
It ends. He pulls away and her heart remembers how to beat again. Her mouth takes a little longer on the uptake.]
I don't know. I've got a pretty good head start.
no subject
he laughs, putting his hands atop of hers. ]
We can compare scars.
[ he feels a little lighter, but also sort of abuzz, everywhere, if also kind of—guilty. it's a lot. he tries to breathe it out in a huff, a ruffle of all his fins. ]
—I'm rather done with partying. [ he loves celebrations, but a private moment with someone is just as nice. ] Let's go get some water? Sounds like we've things to catch up on.
[ she can go to bed while they gab. ]
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I'd like that. [She nods her head, blowing out a measured breath, a tentative grin edging onto her cheeks.] I'd like that very much, Sidon.
[Maybe this is all right? Definitions should be left for definite feelings. They're still working it out on both ends, and with a battle incoming it's easy to rush things. Dion had told her about that, as had Margaret and Harley. She doesn't want that, not yet. Maybe someday?
She hadn't started that whole Never Have I Ever mess without reason. It makes her envious to think about, just not enough to delve into yet. Talk is better. Good company is better.
And Sidon is the best company of all.
She moves her hand to take his, properly, and motions with her head towards the dorms.]
Shall we?
no subject
but it feels more right not to, just this once. the smile she finds is proof of that, and he mirrors it. ]
Let's!
[ bye forever party, hello dorms. he gives her a minute to get situated, long enough to fetch her a water bottle and seat himself beside her bed. he's tall enough that the ground is often the easiest perch. handing her the water, ]
What a way to round off our journey, hm? [ this mess of a party, and a battle with a god. ]
no subject
It's rather unfair that he has to move so preciously throughout the ship, she thinks. He's so tall and scarcely anything accommodates him. Rosamund rolls onto her side, pulling a pillow under her head as she ponders him.]
It's kind of nice, though? That everyone's so open to celebrating, whenever they can. We could be going into this very grimly and seriously.