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[RP] Open Post!
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much to the relief of everyone around them
...alright, so he had jumped in a few puddles, just to make a big splash, and yeah, maybe that's kinda childish, but listen. where he grew up there was no rainfall at all, period, and cyslodia hadn't been any better on that front. they'd gotten tastes of it in some of the more temperate regions, but the change in climate definitely brought on some new, interesting joys to take pleasure in... at least until they got a rude awakening about the various inconveniences that come along with them.
like rinwell, law doesn't even glance twice at the fact that it's such a small room, only one bed. wouldn't be the first time, surely won't be the last, but you also can't expect him to pick up on ~tiny little details~ when he's drenched to the bone and squelching in his shoes. he flops right down onto the floor and starts prying his shoes off, his pack dumped unceremoniously on the floor beside him. )
Augh... yeah, maybe, if they even have any! Do you wanna go find out while I get the fire lit?
( two seconds on the ground and he's already forming a puddle underneath him. hoo boy. fortunately there's a tinderbox on top of the mantle and logs ready to be burned, and what he guestimates is just enough space to hang their stuff up to dry. first thing he does is dump his shoes in front of the hearth where they will need every prayer to mother dahna imaginable of getting dry by morning, even with the fire. )
even Shionne and Alphen didn't take this long..
Fingers carefully unhook the butterfly clasp of her cloak before Rinwell peels that familiar layer away, lips parting a moment to address an absent owl friend. He'd be back, of that she had no doubt, but it still caught her by surprise to find her hood empty of Hootle. There's no safe place to hang the cloak by the fire, so she settles for one of the hooks on the back of the door, before turning and nodding at Law. ]
I'll ask about dinner, too. I'm pretty sure they had stew on the pot, if the smell downstairs was any indication, and that sounds really good right about now.
[ In between the scent of alcohol at the bar, and damp wet anyone who'd squeezed in for shelter, anyway. Rinwell was pretty relieved they hadn't stayed down there too long.
She can feel her own boots squelching and it's gross, so the sooner she runs to check, the sooner she can come back and remove them. ]
I'll be right back!
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( while rinwell heads out to procure towels and hopefully dinner, law heads to his bag to see what's salvageable. in particular, is there anything he can change into? because he's not even surprised when he starts dumping out other supplies and finds those drenched, too. but underneath those, surely his change of clothes......
nope. all soaked. some are a little better off than others and he could probably make do, but why bother wearing half-wet clothes when he might as well just lay those out to dry, too? so that's what he does—dumps his bag out and tosses everything in front of the fireplace (haphazardly and not in the most efficient way to get it to dry, but whatever), then grabs the tinderbox and starts that fire. happily, that roars to life in short order, so at least the room will warm up quickly, and their stuff... probably will have a prayer of a chance at being good to go by morning. honestly, law's not the least bit bothered about it, even though he guesses he probably should be. having all your stuff get wet, including your whole entire self, is inconvenient when you're on the road, yeah, but this is a pretty nice room and it's nice to just be able to kick back and rest for awhile. maybe they just needed a good excuse.
at any rate, he's forming a puddle underneath him by the time that fire is lit, and with nothing else for it, he strips off his gauntlets and gloves, then his tunic, and situates those by the fire as well. he'd ditch the pants, too, but er... the only thing he'd have to cover up with is the blanket, and it'd probably be better if he didn't subject rinwell to walking in on that unawares. topless though, that's fine. totally fine. he just looks for a dry corner of one of his spare shirts to muss his wet hair with in the meantime. )
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[ It takes longer than Rinwell likes to return, but when she does, it's heralded by a series of sharp staccato knocks, before entering with arms laden not just with a half dozen towels but a couple of extra blankets as well. While the place may not be as big as an inn in cities like Viscint or Cysloden, the innkeeper and her wife took pride in making their establishment comfortable: a chill from the rain was entirely possible, especially since it was still bucketing down outside with little sign of slowing. They'd been rather generous all things considered.
That said...Less visible (thanks to the burden in her arms) is the bemused expression on Rinwell's face, a certain conversation from downstairs replaying in her head. What was that even supposed to mean, anyway?
('Don't you worry, I'll bring up some dinner for you and your young man soon as I can for you. I'm sure you've both worked up an appetite getting here through all that rain.'
'Oh, he's not my--'
A knowing look she hadn't understood passed between the older women.
'Mmm, of course not.'
'Don't worry,' and a wink, 'we won't tell anyone.')
He's not, though.
And why was she still thinking about it? Ugh. Don't let them make it weird, Rinwell. ]
Food will be delivered in a little while. Looks like we arrived just in time for a new batch of stew, but fresh loaves weren't quite ready yet. [proper bread! something to look forward to for sure. she heads over to set the bundle at the food of the bed, before smiling slyly] I made sure to ask for veggies-only for your portion.
[ No, she didn't.
And then she turns around, and Rinwell feels like she's been hit by a shellshocker. Law has, sensibly, set things out to dry, including his clothes. Including what he was wearing. Now, there's bright firelight catching in rain mussed hair and reflecting across well defined muscles across his back and shoulders, along strong arms and tapered chest, an effect that is much, much easier to ignore when he's not shirtless.
A very small voice inside her head goes, oh.
Hopefully he doesn't catch how red she's turning as she throws one of the towels at him, before spinning back around to face the wall to start pulling off her boots. ]
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( and to think he was about to compliment her! you're awesome, not that he doesn't still think so anyway. but he knows she's only kidding (r-right?) and so he's grinning right at her when she turns around. now... okay, listen. does he know, for all intents and purposes, that being in the state of undress he's in might cause a little bit of a stir? yeah, he knows. but also, his idiot self isn't thinking too hard about it, either. i mean, they travel together all the time, oftentimes in close quarters, and being indecent around each other happens sometimes, y'know? it's just that they aren't typically so flagrant about it. not the way he's sort of being, standing right out in the open in front of the fire, trying in vain to get his hair dry with his body on display that way. he's actually sort of forgotten until she hucks the towel at him. )
Ah—hey, geez! What was that for?
( surely not the being half naked thing. of course not.
at any rate, he catches the towel and drops the useless shirt he's been using, draping it over his head and mussing his hair in earnest. it's only when he goes to dry the rest of himself off (still gotta do something about those wet pants, u-uh, maybe he'll give her a warning for that one) that he re-develops any sort of self-awareness and then sort of half-laughs, half scoffs as he hangs the towel around his shoulders. )
O-Oh. Hey, it was drenched, okay? I was leaving puddles everywhere! And I was getting cold! I feel a lot better now, though, thanks a lot.
( is he covering up actually? at all? nope. i mean, why bother, it's not like he has anything to change into that's dry. )
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Great Dahna, it's just Law.
(And really, that's the problem right there, isn't it.) ]
Your dinner's safe, don't worry. [she can't help but giggle at that, even if it did mean she misses out on a compliment this time] Just be glad it's me and not Kisara. Y'know she really was keen for you to try her new training regime when we last saw her at Alphen and Shionne's.
And it's-- You looked like you needed it. It's fine. [no it isn't (except yes, yes it is)] Besides, between your puddles and mine, we'll have to mop up a bit before we put down some blankets down by the fire.
[ It is going to take ages for their footware to dry out, but they have all night (and perhaps even all day tomorrow if the storm keeps up) for that to sort itself out.
Speaking of: drenched. Yes. Quite. Carefully tossing her boots over next to his, there's a brief hesitation before Rinwell begins removing her sleeves, the belts across her biceps freed and then gloves stripped from her fingers. Next, robes are unfastened, the dark teal-green fabric pulled up over her head once suitably loose, a rather twisty maneuver that she's done time and again when out at camp. Shaking damp hair back over her shoulders once she's free, the runed ribbons are then carefully checked over for any loose stitching or damage, before she wrings them dry. Only once she's done does Rinwell turn around, giving Law a much better idea of how soaked she is, too.
Law may still be the taller of the two of them, but even tomboys have to grow up sometime. Her wardrobe hasn't changed all that much in the last year or two, merely tailored to account for, well, filling out more in certain places (so to speak). The white halter top she now wears beneath is definitely new and all but plastered to her skin; Kisara may have had a hand in helping her choose it, if the back -- or distinct lack there of -- is anything to go by. ]
Did you at least leave some space for my things to dry, too?
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it's just. it's the heat that makes him flush visibly, not just in the face but down his neck, something much more noticeable without any clothing or armor in the way. just the chain he wears around his neck, the two rings on it resting at his chest, and that almost seems to accentuate rather than hide anything. )
Uhhhh...
( not that he's ever had an issue with it, but it's gotten harder and harder not to notice rinwell over the last couple of years. he may have gotten a little taller (hasn't hit that big growth spurt yet, though, what a late bloomer) and more muscular, but in his opinion, she's the one that's changed the most since their last big adventure. and with that white shirt, soaked through, sticking to her chest and... just about everywhere else, it's a solid couple of seconds before he wrenches his eyes away to glance at the fireplace, then to reach out for her cloak with his head turned partly away. )
Y—Yeah! Of course I did. Here, gimme, I got it.
( anything for a distraction. )
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She's been an expert at ignoring the cause of certain feelings, tried not to look too closely at the real source of that annoyance.
But the way he stares at her now? He's never looked at her that way before. And the surge of colour across his own face, down his chest..she had no idea a blush could extend that far.
Which immediately has her diverting her own gaze again, a rare moment of synchronized bashfulness. The toes of her stockings leave hints of damp foot prints across the wooden floor, drying quickly in Rinwell's wake as she minces closer to the fire, and to Law. They'll have to come off at some point, but for the moment, she settles for holding out her robes for him to take. ]
T-thanks.
[ Her heart is hammering, and she doesn't know why, and she's at a sudden loss for words. So instead of more awkward conversation, she turns to face the fire too, extending her hands forward for the heat to warm her palms and briefly rubbing her arms to ward off any chill (an action that has nothing to do with the weather outside, and everything to do with the proximity of the only other person in the room). Her pendant rests against the dip of her collar bone, a familiar weight that gleams in the fire's light, but after a moment she reaches back behind her neck to unclip it, distracting herself with the thought of setting it to one side while the two of them dry out.
Then: at the door, a heavy knock, followed by a cheerful voice: "Dinner's ready!" ]
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swallowing tightly, he nearly drops her cloak when she presses it into his hand, catching it at the last second and quickly turning to hang it over the corner of the mantle so it'll dry. he has to step pretty close to her to do it, and lean past her field of vision, and as he's turning back toward her, flushed and kind of mentally freaking out, wondering if he's reading into things (usually the case) or if this is intentional or something, he starts to open his mouth to say something— anything— )
U-Uh, hey, I... do you... ack—!!
( DAMN IT!! it's not even that loud or sudden of a noise, but law still jumps half a foot in the air anyway, startled and then dismayed. why?? why is this his luck?? he doesn't even bother to open the door, just calls back in response: )
O-Okay, thanks! We'll be there in a sec!
( and then, in a lower voice, more like a slightly mortified mumble meant only for rinwell to hear: )
We're still dripping everywhere, we should probably, uh, finish... y'know, changing? ( into? what? there's no? dry? clothes? ) Or—you know what I mean.
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It's the fact there is a Mood at all that has Rinwell thoroughly distracted, especially as Law is Right There, and her eyes can't help but follow the curve of his arm as he reaches up to hang things for her. She'd have no room to talk when she can't help but stare like that, when any other time, there'd be a quip at how useful he is for once because of his height.
And then he's looking down at her, and she's looking up at him, and it's really really unfair that he has such pretty eyes, especially when he's looking at her like that. ('like that'. she can't tell what he's thinking, and it flusters her? He's usually such an open book, but right now, Rinwell can't tell her own thoughts apart, never mind what thoughts Law has running through his head.) ]
Y-yeah?
[ He doesn't get to finish whatever it was he was going to say, and any train of thought Rinwell was having is derailed by that knock, heart pounding in her ears, and she looks back into the fire as she tries to get some semblance of control back. ]
We-- oh. Yeah. We should.. Do that, I guess. I— [she looks down; her face goes a brilliant scarlet as it finally dawns on her what he might be talking about, and she whirls away, pendant still gripped in one hand.] UH. I. Um. Don't look.
[ ..a little too late for that, but at least it's whispered at him rather than yelled, and a second towel (larger than the first she gave him) is tossed from the bed to Law. Her own towel is then draped about her shoulders like a half-cape, pulled closed across her chest, before one of the spare blankets is retrieved from the pile and wrapped around her so she's swallowed by it entirely.
All the better to hide her face as she tries not to die of embarrassment. ]
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( damn it, was he just reading into things after all? well, that's typical. and he probably shouldn't say what he says out loud for fear of getting her mad at him, but it just seemed so... deliberate. and he could've sworn, by the way they made eye contact for a second, that—well, his mistake, maybe.
unless???
he turns to grab the next towel as she chucks it at him, and this one he should probably really be tying around his waist so he can get his sopping wet pants off, but instead he stands there gaping and doing the very thing rinwell said not to do: looking. not, like, staring, she's hidden in the blanket for crying out loud! but something in his lizard brain says not to drop the subject just yet, and he might just be on a fast track to getting electrocuted or shoved into the fireplace or something, but you know what? that's a risk he's willing to take. for. some completely insane reason he hasn't yet acknowledged. )
H-Hey, don't just use the blanket, you'll get it all wet! Just— here, what if I just...?
( What If He Just, steps closer and holds the towel she threw at him lengthwise in front of her, raised just high enough to block his own line of sight and effectively create a little "wall" for her to hide behind while she changes? of course, all he'd have to do is kinda... lean to the side... and in fact that's exactly what he does, but only to see how she's decided to react to his frankly genius idea. )
There, now I can't see anything. As if I kinda didn't already, what with your shirt being see-through and all. ...U-Uh, not that I noticed that or anything.
( literally how could he point it out if he hadn't noticed—look, lizard brain doesn't use logic. )
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[ Outside, there's a near ominous rumble from the storm. Pure coincidence, surely.
It is of course both an entirely fair question, and utterly unfair of Rinwell, given how little space there is here, the fact she hadn't checked herself over before turning, and the fact that under other circumstances, this wouldn't have even come up at all. And her brain can't help but point out that she'd liked the fact he was looking at her, gleefully popping the bubbles of denial that try to surface in reply.
And he'd looked away. He'd blushed too. So, did that mean..?
And NOW he's even trying to help(? is it really helping?). In pure Law foot-in-mouth fashion, of course, and the blanket turns to give him and his 'genius' idea a very sullen look. The fact he has a point about getting the blanket wet, even with her own towel in place, just serves to make part of her mad because how dare he even raise that right now!
...The need to bicker with Law starts to trump her common sense. Or maybe she just wants to call his bluff. He's not looking, is he? Fine. Fine! ]
Fine. Then stop looking.
[ If he's going to make that offer, then she's going to take it. She glares, waiting for him to, you know, avert his gaze. Is he still looking? Because the blanket doesn't get dropped until Law does in fact keep those eyes firmly on his side of the towel, and she lets it bunch around her feet before pushing it aside with her left foot. There's a moment's hesitation --still not looking?-- before she shucks off her shorts, face beginning to burn. She considers, then leaves the stockings for now, because this is the part where if he's serious, then it won't matter, because he's not looking.
(But does she want him to look? Rinwell tries very VERY hard not to mentally answer that question.)
She takes a breath. There's a shift of arms, the slide of wet fabric, before a white shirt hits the floor near to the fire place, having been dragged up and over her head. She considers for a moment picking her own towel back up, but--
Much smaller hands move to the space next to his on the towel, to take over holding it. No peeking goes each way, after all. (Is this a test? Why is this a test. Why did she think this was a good idea?) ]
[breathless] Your turn.
[ (After a rather long wait on their part, there's a cough outside the door, before the innkeeper speaks up again: "I'll just leave this here for you two. Breakfast will be cold cuts and bread. Just come on down stairs if you need anything else." ) ]
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( to his great credit, law leans back around to "his side" of the towel and doesn't dare breach it once rinwell actually, holy crap, agrees to his ridiculous idea. ridiculous, yeah, but look, it works. try as he might—and you better believe he tries—he can't see a thing through the material of the towel, no matter how long he stares bullets at it. all he's treated to are the faint sounds of rustling and wet fabric hitting the floor, maybe the faintest of silhouettes if he squints really, really hard... nope, that's just his imagination. and then, finally, rinwell's hands appear on either side. he almost— almost leans around to look before his brain catches up to him and realizes that he categorically can't do it.
it'd be... breaking the rules, or something. are there even any rules here? probably for the best if there are; he's so flushed the fire over in the fireplace feels too hot to put up with anymore, and he almost wants to crack a window. )
Wait, you actually—whaddaya mean, my turn?! I don't need to hide behind a stupid towel!
( oh, no? so what's he going to do, just whip his pants off right in front of her? if he were going to do that, he wouldn't have waited for her to come back so she didn't wind up walking in and getting an eyeful in the first place. and he wouldn't be staying right where he is, hidden behind the towel.
still, whether he's too wuss to step out from behind the towel or if he's just granting rinwell the benefit of him staying in place, there isn't that long of a pause before the telltale sound of law unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants off fills up the silence. and that call from outside? at this point, he's so worked up he barely even notices it. he doesn't just nudge his aside, though, he takes the time to fling the wet garment across the room, where it... thankfully doesn't land in the fire. then his hands return right back to where they were, just above rinwell's.
like they're about to start having a tug-o-war over the thing. )
There! Now what, genius?! One of us is gonna have to let go first, and it's not gonna be me.
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But what had been intended as little more than turnabout being fair play has rapidly become a frisson of nerves, of wondering. Of.. She hadn't intended for this...this tension. This weight of expectation that something was going to happen. If only one of them would--
And there go his pants. Fortunately NOT into the fire, or there'd be a very different problem to deal with. Aaaaand here comes the commentary, and Rinwell flares pink again. ]
Well obviously the next step is to dry off.
[ Obviously. It's a good thing he's renewed his grip on the towel, because once he does so, one of her hands shifts to pull it down -- no chance to peek! Just enough so brown eyes can peer over the top at Law more easily, glowing almost amber in the fire light. (She may also be standing on her tip toes while doing so. He's tall, okay!!) ]
Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you! Well, I-- ah.. [Her mouth opens. Closes.
Then there's a soft huff, almost laughter, directed at herself, at the situation. before:] Aheh....What are we even doing?
['...because I don't know what I'm doing.' ]
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Y...Yeah, maybe I would.
( there's a distinct waning quality to the heat in his voice all of a sudden, less petulantly bickering and more coming to the arresting realization that, actually, yeah, he would like that. "that" as in rinwell letting go of the towel, and "that" as in where having control of where that towel goes might get him, and "that" as in rinwell, and... it's not new news, and he might still be operating on prehistoric hormones brain, but hey, it got him this far. and she, y'know, isn't throwing a shoe at his head or shrieking at him, she's... is it just him, or is that question kind of more of an invitation? )
We're, uh... we're... drying off. And I already got a head start, which means you...
( what if, instead of lowering that towel, he started angling it toward rinwell so that he can press it against her, instead? that seems, in his mind, like a better use of their time than "arguing" over who gets to peek first. he might not get to see anything, but— )
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Rinwell could say she simply hadn't wanted that kind of attention for herself. But, maybe, really, it had simply been enough to have her best friend with her, once they'd decided on their own adventures. That maybe she'd taken something for granted, in his being there.
His reply arrests her; there's none of the play-bite of their earlier verbal sparring to it, almost leaning into the quieter serious tone that their private conversations sometimes carry, but-- no, even this. This is different, somehow, and she blinks at him in an owlish manner that looks a lot more adorable than she's aware of. ]
Law..
[ And if the heat is waning in his voice, then it could be argued that something is kindled in hers, especially as the towel shifts, directed back against her, until the top line runs parallel to her shoulder line and it drapes, drapes down and while it's hardly as revealing at the water soaked fabric of her halter top, well. Maybe it's what's implied that counts more right here, right now.
(For her part, Rinwell resolutely does not look down. Much as she very, very much wants to. And she has absolutely no idea what to do with her hands -- except to, let go. Of. The towel.) ]
..I thought you said you weren't going first.
[for the record, her own blush most definitely spills past the towel line.]
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at least not at himself. at rinwell, though? yeah. his eyes are laser-focused on her, try as he may not to make it overly obvious how hard he's staring at the way the towel hugs her wet skin. when she lets go, that gives him all the agency he needs to rest it against her shoulders and then, boldly, to start to rub them and her upper arms dry. maybe the back of her neck, too, his hand slipping behind her hair, wrapped in the towel— )
Did... I say that? I kinda forget now. Suddenly.
( "suddenly." well, if there's one thing that's also plenty visible besides just about every inch of his toned body, it's how much he is blushing all over the place on it. stammering, he tries to save face and make up some, what? excuse? for what he's just—doing without really asking?? but it all is sort of hollow, because he's only following the cues he's pretty sure he's not imagining. still: )
It's just, uh, I mean, you'll get sick if you don't—a-and the food'll get cold!
( right, yeah, the food that is just languishing outside the door, never to be eaten. )
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He isn't the only one blessed by teenaged awkwardness (convenient colours of undergarments aside - though really, black may make certain things more discreet but white sure benefited him today), and as Law takes his sweet time rubbing along her arms and shoulders, the drag of fabric does nothing to dispel the goosebumps she can feel rising in the wake of contact.
But if he really, truly needed a cue that what he's doing is, in fact, not only welcomed but, dare he imagine it, encouraged, surely that's sign posted by the catch in her breath that is a little louder than she intended as he runs a hand up and over the curve of her shoulder. Drags the towel along the length of her neck, until his hand settles behind. And the fact she doesn't pull away; maybe even leans into it. A little. ]
"Suddenly". [that's not as dry as she wanted to make it; lower lip catches between her teeth as she keeps her gaze fixed on the chain around his neck] Forgetting like that.. Well, t-that's no good. I hope that's not a sign you're getting sick.
[ Tentatively, her own hands catch the bottom half of the towel; internal debate rages, before she makes up her mind, and both of her palms press the towel against the flat of his stomach. Lightly dragging upwards, to trail along his abs. ]
You.. You don't want to get cold, either. So..
[ Never mind the blazing fire beside them. (Dinner? What dinner?) ]
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( that's a manly, manly sound, that aah. that is the aah of a guy who's been outplayed and can't even be mad about it. and really, where else was she going to go with that? everything above the waist would be kinda hard to get at with the way they are right now, unless she decided to skip using the towel as a buffer entirely, but that's a bold move beyond which a squeaky aah could ever hope to cover.
law's face is beet red in seconds, as if it wasn't kind of already, and to save face after that impressive aah he says the first super suave thing he can think of: )
Oh, I-I'm not cold, believe me.
( i mean. it's true, he isn't. not anymore. he's pret-ty warm between the fire and certain other things. his eyes jump from her hands to his, and he pretends like an accident when the towel "slips" on one side, so that it's just his bare fingers on the back of her neck, sliding through wet strands of long back hair to the back of her head. then around to the side of her face, brushing it back from her temple and tucking it behind her ear. what's his excuse for that one, huh?
he doesn't have one. he's just doing whatever now, apparently. )
...I always wanted to do that.
( and admitting whatever now, apparently? okay. )
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Oh, I-I'm not cold, believe me.
She lets out a shaky breath in reply, not sure if she's trying to smile or laugh, or try to look— well— ]
Maybe you have a fever then, from being out in the rain.
[ —sure, Rinwell. Sure, let's go with that.
He's still staring at her so intently, and she finally lets her gaze lift above that collar bone she's been so intently fixated on. It is one thing to know the boy you like (Like, you Like him, and oh why is it now that that's really catching up with her) is a martial artist, to have seen him practice his forms nightly to stay in shape, to stay in absolute fighting trim. It is another to see that up close, to see how the splashes of colour play out across his skin, and—
Law runs fingers through her hair and everything seems to stop. She'd been growing it out, dark locks teasing well past her shoulders nowadays, but this weather? Reminds her why she kept it in a short bob to begin with. Right up until now, Law skirting past that unspoken boundary line started with the stupid towel and with stupid words and stupid clothes, and that tiny tiny oh from before, the one in the back of her head? ]
O-oh. [now who's red?] ..H-how long is always?
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( how long is always? trying to think about it with her hands resting against his body and him suddenly overly conscious of every breath he takes in and out, his one hand on her shoulder, holding the top of that towel in place, the other stroking through the long ends of her hair just because he doesn't know what else to do with it yet, he can barely come up with an answer. it feels like always has just been literally always, but he knows for a fact it's not since the moment they met each other. you know. considering... what was going on when they met each other. it takes effort to think of it, which quickly morphs from the less pressing task of wondering how long he's wanted to stroke her hair back like that to the much, much more pressing one of trying to answer the question, when is the exact moment i fell in love with rinwell?
because then he has to contend with the thought (not for the first time, but still) that he even has those kinds of feelings, and he still doesn't really know what to do with them. obviously, because here he is how much longer later after that when, just now doing the thing he's been wanting to do all along. now who's red? him again. )
Since... ( his eyes jump to hers; he wets his lips, pursing them, and looks away. looks back again and keeps his gaze there, seemingly unabashed about the head-on eye contact, but really it feels like the force of will it takes to do is... intense. ) ...Since Niez, I think. After—y'know. Everything. When I saw your walls come down for the first time, that was when I wanted to.
( maybe that's not the happiest memory to bring up, and maybe that's a messed up time to suddenly catch feelings, but the heart wants what it wants and it don't wait for a good opportunity. )
And... I guess I've just wanted to ever since.
( this isn't just about the hair thing anymore. is it. (nope) )
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(But really, there was always a slippery slope involved with that question, because Rinwell has never been very good at letting things lie with just one.) ]
Law..
[ Rinwell's not sure what kind of answer she was expecting, but it wasn't. It wasn't Niez. Because even now, that's a memory bound up in so many emotions, so many feelings tangled together, and even standing here years later, there's still curls of guilt that focus in the depths of her stomach to know what kind of person she'd been then, what sort of person she could have become.
Who she would have become, if not for the boy— no.
If not for the young man in front of her.
Her eyes are large and round, and there's a faint hitch to her breathing as her face burns in a similar shade to his own, as her mind helpfully points out just how long ago that was, and it's like the beginning of a mental puzzle suddenly lining up, disparate threads pulling together just so as it replays conversations in her head, and her mind puts several details together. ]
Then, that night on Daeq Faezol, before we went to Rena—
[ He tried to tell her then, didn't he?
Rinwell's the one who breaks the held gaze. There's no small part of her that wants to melt into the floor at just how absolutely blind she's been. However, looking down is a mistake, so brown eyes immediately diverting towards the fire, to the sight of their clothes strewn about. And she can feel something else unfurling too, a sense of better late than never that's almost giddy with new realisation that in spite of everything, this is still where they've ended up. Together.
Another wall is coming down, this time one that had been between them. ]