The Skyrider stretched out a hand across the floor, inching it over the hardwood until her finger caught hold of the closest shirt and she pulled it back to the bed. Sitting up, she slipped her arms through the sleeves, once again realising too late that it didn’t belong to her, but simply grinned and left it unfastened. She was still caught up in the blankets Malcolm hadn’t managed to steal from the bed, though it would be too hot to keep them overnight, with the weather turning as bright as it had that day. The muscles in her stomach burnt from laughing too hard and her face and neck were flushed, hair in disarray and eyes darkened by desire as she accepted the offered grapes, pulling them from the vine, one by one to roll between her fingers before eating.
The fortune telling had been embarrassing, one of those moments she’d wanted the world to swallow her into a pit. She’d refrained from rolling her eyes, but moved restlessly in the seat, trying to steal her own hand back form the old woman. Malcolms’ fortune had been fascinating, not that she believed in fate of course; but still, it sounded exciting. Perhaps she would have accepted her own more readily if it had involved at least a brush with death, because that was frankly far more likely than the other option.
It had been a good day. It had been the day she’d hoped they’d have together, a beautiful memory to cherish. There was a dangerous ease to spending time with the Captain, it was easy enough to make him laugh, and Elyna had found that in his company, she spent a majority of her time smiling or laughing outright, it was an infectious delight that spread and was harder and harder to suppress. Being happy, she was learning, made it easier to be happy and perpetuate that emotion. There was always the danger though, that she would start to feel truly comfortable, that this was allowed. That it wasn’t wrong. It was a fantasy after all; they didn’t live in the world where they could simply be together.
Elyna lent to the side, putting the food down before she shifted suddenly to lean over Malcolm as he lay back. Her long hair brushing against his bare chest, “and you have your sword,” she smiled down at him before pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, “so you won’t forget me,” the words had fled her tongue before she could stop them, and doubt clouded her features for a moment. It had come out after all, despite all her care to hold in her worries and the jealousy that coiled within the pit of her stomach. She swallowed, and bowed her head to kiss him once more, trying to divert his attention. What were the chances he really listened anyway?
She didn’t want to go to Burhan, and she didn’t want him to go to Krom. She didn’t want him to have a wife…and all the wishing for things in the world wouldn’t change anything, and it was unfair to even think it could. When the kiss broke so they could breath, Elyna straightened, offering a half-smile, “the tenth…? I’ll see you then…and you can tell me how you received this,” her hand trailed down his torso before circling his thigh, where the slave brand sat. It was unmistakable, but it wasn’t fresh. Elyna would have bet her own leg, that there was a story behind it.
The fortune telling had been embarrassing, one of those moments she’d wanted the world to swallow her into a pit. She’d refrained from rolling her eyes, but moved restlessly in the seat, trying to steal her own hand back form the old woman. Malcolms’ fortune had been fascinating, not that she believed in fate of course; but still, it sounded exciting. Perhaps she would have accepted her own more readily if it had involved at least a brush with death, because that was frankly far more likely than the other option.
It had been a good day. It had been the day she’d hoped they’d have together, a beautiful memory to cherish. There was a dangerous ease to spending time with the Captain, it was easy enough to make him laugh, and Elyna had found that in his company, she spent a majority of her time smiling or laughing outright, it was an infectious delight that spread and was harder and harder to suppress. Being happy, she was learning, made it easier to be happy and perpetuate that emotion. There was always the danger though, that she would start to feel truly comfortable, that this was allowed. That it wasn’t wrong. It was a fantasy after all; they didn’t live in the world where they could simply be together.
Elyna lent to the side, putting the food down before she shifted suddenly to lean over Malcolm as he lay back. Her long hair brushing against his bare chest, “and you have your sword,” she smiled down at him before pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, “so you won’t forget me,” the words had fled her tongue before she could stop them, and doubt clouded her features for a moment. It had come out after all, despite all her care to hold in her worries and the jealousy that coiled within the pit of her stomach. She swallowed, and bowed her head to kiss him once more, trying to divert his attention. What were the chances he really listened anyway?
She didn’t want to go to Burhan, and she didn’t want him to go to Krom. She didn’t want him to have a wife…and all the wishing for things in the world wouldn’t change anything, and it was unfair to even think it could. When the kiss broke so they could breath, Elyna straightened, offering a half-smile, “the tenth…? I’ll see you then…and you can tell me how you received this,” her hand trailed down his torso before circling his thigh, where the slave brand sat. It was unmistakable, but it wasn’t fresh. Elyna would have bet her own leg, that there was a story behind it.