‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
I had never made out in a closet before.
I never thought I would. It's not something I ever really thought about before. Not when I was starving in Rame, or when I was in the army, especially not when I was in Verglas. But now...now I wanted to do it all day everyday.
Sable lifted me easily and set me down onto some sort of box, never once losing contact with my lips. He set one hand on my hip and the other he used to spread my legs. He stepped in that space between, making our hips touch. I wrapped my arms around his neck, breathing in his scent of leather and embers that was easily filling the entire space of the small closet. We were both in our training outfits, my hair had been in a ponytail, but he was quickly solving that problem. Once my hair was down he ran his fingers through it. He really liked my hair.
"We're going to be caught," I muttered, raking my hands down his front. It had been one thing to simply admire Sable's form, but touching it...touching it was a whole different experience. He looked muscular and well built, but his body felt like a statue. All hard planes and ridges.
"You don't think I already have that covered, love?" he asked. I loved the way he said 'love'. With his accent, it made my heart go fluttery and my chest warm. I had never felt that way about a man before. I had never felt that way about anyone before. The rush of feelings that filled me every time I was with Sable, and even when I was away, were not familiar. I felt something akin to a bout of sickness....but in a good way. I'd get flushed, my stomach would twist, my heart would pound. But I didn't hate the feeling.
I continued to kiss him when his words suddenly registered. "Wait, what?" I broke the kiss to see that the once dim light of the closet was now extremely dark. No light at all. We were trapped in darkness. I watched in awe as shadows swirled around us. He had wrapped us up in his shadows so we'd stay hidden. One tendril reached down and brushed my cheek, wrapping into my hair. I closed my eyes, shivering at the sparks of pleasure that washed over my skin at its touch.
"How do you do that?" I asked, keeping my eyes closed. He reached a hand up and traced his fingers against my neck, my collarbones. He still wore gloves, even when he was touching me. In fact, I had never seen him not wear gloves.
"Do what?" he asked, his voice thick. I felt his lips press to the hollow of my throat and I sighed loudly, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.
"Make your shadows feel like that?" He sucked lightly on my skin and if my eyes weren't closed, I was sure they'd be rolling into the back of my head.
"Like what?" he asked. I felt him smile against my skin and I jokingly hit his shoulder. "I can make my shadows feel like many things. Sometimes I can make them feel like a blade-'' I had remembered what that felt like. "Other times I can make them hot as a brand-'' I felt the marked skin on my forearm tingle. "And other times I can make it soft, like a caress." His hand reached out and grabbed at my arm. He broke away from the kiss and examined the black mark marring my skin. Like a black serpent coiling up my limb.
"I am sorry for hurting you," he said, his thumb brushing the tattoo. "I won't lie, I did enjoy watching you squirm, like I like to make all my enemies squirm but..." he sighed. "I hated hurting you. The way you'd look up at me sometimes such...anger in your eyes, such cold. And then...then for a time, there was nothing at all in that gaze." I remembered that time. That blur of time after Tellie's death when all the days were nothing but gray blobs shifting together.
"I don't hate you for hurting me, Sable," I said gently. "We were both in dark...dark places. What we did before, when we were at our darkest, does not define us. The darkness we did not ask for does not define us." He leaned his forehead against mine, still staring down at that swirling mark.
"Do you want me to take it away?" he asked.
"You can do that?" I asked. I had hated that mark after he gave it to me. Surely he had seen me glaring at it or shoving my sleeve back over it when it'd ride up and I couldn't bear to look at it.
"I can, though it's not exactly easy. I can if you want me to," he looked down at me, his gray eyes bright in the darkness of the room. I reached up and stroked his face, letting my thumb skim his cheekbone. He leaned into my touch, guilt clouding his gaze.
"I like having a mark of you on me. I can't see my back tattoos, but this one I can see. I want it," I said. "It's like a reminder of how far we've come." I grinned up at him.
"That's an awfully nice way of thinking of things," Sable said, chuckling. He brought my arm up to his lips, gently kissing the skin there. "I never thought you to be an optimist."
"Oh I'm not," I said, letting out a laugh. "I'm actually the most pessimistic person I know."
"I don't know about that, I'm pretty negative myself," Sable said, leaning closer to me. His hands had found themselves back at my hips and his thumbs reached under my shirt to stroke at the skin above my waistline.
"Oh really?" I asked, faking a gasp. I pressed a hand to my chest. "I had no idea!"
"I know, I know. Especially since I'm such a ray of sunshine," Sable muttered, reaching down to press a soft, slow kiss to my lips. He was great at heated, fast kisses. Make out sessions. But these...these kisses were my favorites by far.
"Melting, love?" he asked, smiling.
"Something like that," I said, pressing myself further against him, gripping at his shirt. Suddenly, I felt something cold touch my cheek and I looked up to see I had formed icicles on the ceiling and snow was now falling. I reached up to brush it off of Sable's shoulders.
"I have to stop doing that," I muttered, willing the icicles to leave. It was embarrassing enough to moan or sigh everytime Sable kissed me. But to freeze whatever was closest to me as a sign of...arousal...that was beyond embarrassing.
"No, don't stop," Sable said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "It's adorable."
"Har-har," I mumbled. Finally, the icicles went away and I willed the snow to stop as well. I turned back to see him looking at me, a grin on his lips. I felt my cheeks grow cold.
"What?" I asked, my spine straightening.
"You're just so gods-damned powerful," he said, his smile spreading. "I had no idea ice could be such a turn on." He bent down and his soft lips pressed to the space just above my lips, then to the side of my mouth, then to the other side.
"Such a tease," I groaned. He grinned and finally kissed me. I ran my hands down his arms, stopping when I felt the leather of his gloves. I froze. "Are you going to wear these every time you touch me?" I asked, tugging on the leather.
Sable stiffened, pulling away from me. "Well you know how to ruin a mood," he mumbled.
"I'm serious," I said. "I've never seen you without gloves. And while I've never really cared about it before well...now that we're...doing whatever it is we're doing," he looked down at me expectantly. "I get to touch you and it's...nice-"
"Just nice?" he asked, quirking a brow. I hit his chest.
"Okay, really nice," I mumbled. "But I just feel like I'm missing out because you have a...barrier between us. Is it me? Is my skin too cold?" I felt an ache form in my chest. And I recoiled away from him, moving my hand from where it had been resting on his chest. Had I been making him uncomfortable this entire time?
"No, Eira. No." He grabbed my hand firmly in his. "I've never been repulsed by you or your power, love. I promise." I felt some of that tension leave my chest, but not all.
"Then why?" I asked, frowning at the material that covered his hands. Hands that wielded such power, that touched me with such care, that played the piano with such flourish. Hands like his didn't deserve to be covered.
"I...I'm ashamed of them," he said softly, hanging his head. "My power is so....dark, Eira. And my hands, these hands-" he raised them. "The hands that you let touch you are so bloody. These are the hands I use to kill, the ones I used to kill my father-"
"I don't care," I whispered, inching closer to him, staring him straight in the eyes. His eyes reminded me of storm clouds right on the edge of breaking and unleashing rain and thunder down on the people below.
"You don't understand-"
"I do," I said. I reached down and grabbed his hand, placing it atop of mine. I ran my fingers over his covered knuckles, down to the tip of each finger. He sucked in a shaking breath as I slowly slipped a finger inside.
"Tell me to stop if you're not comfortable," I said, looking up at him. He only nodded. Slowly, giving him enough time to think things through and tell me if he was uncomfortable, I pulled off his glove. The leather slipped off easily, and I clutched the material in my hand, crumbling it. I hated the damn thing for what it meant to him.
"Your hands are scarred," I whispered. I bent down and pressed a kiss to his knuckle. "They're bloody." Another kiss. "They're your weapons, but they're also your tools. I've seen you use them to play the piano, to squeeze Ayaz's shoulder after he made you laugh, to touch...to touch me." I turned over his hand, my thumbs brushing his palm, which was rough from calluses. I bent down and pressed a kiss there too.
"But none of that keeps me from trusting them," I said. "I'm trusting them to hold me, Sable. To hold my heart."
"You mean that?" he asked, pinching his brows together. His expression almost looked like he was in...pain.
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," I muttered, fighting off a smile.
"If...if we're going to do this, whatever this is-"
"Whatever this is," I repeated, lacing my fingers through his. His skin was warm and...perfect against mine. I sighed at the pressure of my hand enfolded in his. I knew it was a cliche, and likely impossible, but it almost felt like our hands fit together like puzzle pieces. I had never felt something so...perfect.
"Whatever this is," he said, grinning. "I want to tell you my story. My whole story." His shadows flickered and I placed a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently.
"Sable, you don't have to-"
"I do," he said gently. "I want you to know."
"Okay," I said, lifting my head up. As if reading my mind, he pressed down and let his lips touch mine. He seemed...detached though. Stiff. "What is it?" I asked.
"Do you ever..." he hesitated, leaning his forehead against mine. "Do you ever...feel things with me?"
"I mean, it depends on what you mean there, Sable-"
"No, get your head out of the gutter," he said, bumping his hip with mine. I giggled. "I meant...oh gods, this doesn't make any sense. I meant....do you ever feel like....an emotion I'm feeling?"
"Um...what do you mean?" I asked, my brows furrowing. I could already see that vulnerability fading from his eyes. He was regretting asking.
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. He took a step away from me, grabbing his glove from my hand. He slipped it back on and I felt my mood deflate like a balloon. "Meet me at the window of our room tonight, two hours after sunset?"
"Sable I'm still confused," I said, getting up from where he had set me down before smashing his lips to mine.
"Nevermind." He bent down and pressed a kiss to my lips. I tried to pull away, but then he swept a tongue over my lips and I felt my ice begin to crumble. I leaned into him, stroking his chest until I reached my hands up to his hair. His tongue dipped past my lips and I flinched when it touched mine. That was never something I had never felt before. I heard Sable chuckle before wrapping his arms around my waist.
I suddenly pulled away from him, hitting his chest. "You bastard," I said. "You thought that was going to distract me?"
His smile made another section of ice melt from my heart. "It worked though, didn't it?" I opened my mouth to respond but he pecked me on the lips again. "The window, two hours after sunset, okay?" I didn't have time to respond before he was melting into the shadows of the room.
"Unbelievable," I muttered. Despite myself, I let out a laugh, pressing two fingers to my kiss-swollen lips. That had never happened before either. I could hardly fight the grin off my face as I opened the door and slipped out into the hall.
I had expected to be alone, which was why the temperature dropped so abruptly as I saw none other than Caspian and Nazira pressed up against the wall. Caspian was leaning over her, his hands dipped under the skirt of her dress. Nazira had sweat collecting on her temples, her head leaned back, her mouth open. As soon as I saw it, I wished that I hadn't.
I whirled away, running down the hall and turning the corner. I slammed myself against the wall and pressed a shaking hand to my forehead, trying to breathe less loudly. I suddenly felt so stupid then. I had been so...blind that I had ignored the way Nazira and Caspian looked at each other. The way Caspian always seemed to have a hand on Nazira. The way they always managed to slip away, together, no matter the situation.
"Any other couples I need to know about?" I muttered, thunking my head back against the wall.