Embers of Sun and Flame (Fuegoleon Vermillion x OC)

Chapter 45 The One Room

But. They weren't the eyes he had seen in his memories just a moment prior. These eyes were tired, and deep; her eyes had always seemed deep, but this time they were empty, as if voids. There was no smile in those eyes. Nor was there one over her lips. Her hair, her beautiful strawberry locks that had flowed like silk through his fingers once upon a time, were gathered into a low bun. And she seemed composed. But the way she seemed distant, and cold, made him wonder if it was all for show.

"Hey..." she whispered, the syllable flowed past her lips, as if raining down onto the floor between them.

She knows...

"Hey..." he replied, wondering what he could say. If I had had more time I-, I could have thought of something to say... "You took care of affairs quickly." The statement escaped from him, tripping as it did so. No. That-, that sounds like I wouldn't-, like I wouldn't want her here.

"It's not all up to me," she replied with a silent tone.

"M-mmm..." he only mumbled in agreement.

She paused for a moment, the same as him, as a veil, as if thick fog, of silence hung between them. "Could we..." she began, after a while, "could I... come in?"

He parted his lips without hesitation, with the intention of agreeing to her request. But then a thought occurred to him. We... could be interrupted here... So far we have been able to... Most often... Resolve our arguments here, but I can't really risk it this time.

She stayed silent, watching as his gaze turned towards the empty office for a moment.

"Could we... perhaps rather talk in our room?" He asked with the words drizzling from his lips, coated with hesitation and a tiny, almost insignificantly small glimmer of hope, as she didn't as much as blink with him calling it as 'our room'.

She only nodded as a reply before turning away and starting to head towards their room, their bedroom, the one sanctuary where they had been just them. Not lord or lady, not a captain or an ambassador. Just them. As people. The one sanctuary where they had been them, without a conflict. The one room that knew them as lovers, with no quarrels or words with vague meanings. The one room that had only seen the tender side of them.

The door to that room closed with a click, shutting them both in, to solitude. But silence still lied heavy between them. Everything they needed to say, wanted to say, it hung above their heads, ready to rain down onto them.

She shook her head while turning her gaze to the side. "Fue I-," she began.

"No, no, let me, please," he interrupted, taking a few, hasty steps closer to her.

Her head turned towards him, but her eyes were on the floor, as if she was ready spill out something that had been collecting in her for far too long already. Her lips parted again, but as she did so, he closed in the distance between them, and placed his hand onto her cheek.

His touch was warm, and gentle, so light that it felt as if he was afraid of holding her. So very fragile was his hold of her, that it was as if he feared breaking her complexion under his touch. It was as if he dreaded that his fire would crack the surface of her skin, and make all that she harboured within her spill out. But. He had to. No... He wanted to. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to run his fingers over her cheek and just... hold her.

And she felt his warmth over her. She felt how his presence washed over her, tearing open the blanket of suffocation and sorrow, letting light in. As if she had been fished out of an iced over ocean. And as she sat on the stone shore, he placed a warm, soft blanket over her shivering form.