[Khalid's already half-awake by the time he opens his eyes, so he's hardly startled to find in the dark that Hayame is leaning over him, her warmth pressed to his side. Still, he doesn't pause to so much as ask what she was doing -- wasn't it obvious? -- before he reaches to touch her shoulder, eases her into a gentle kiss. He might not know what was on her mind, but he knows Hayame's moods well enough to understand there are some things she can only display here in the cover of darkness and the intimacy of rest.
The kiss parts, and his gaze is soft when he looks up at her.]
Hey... [The smile on his face is peaceful, content.] I feel like I was having a nice dream.
[The recollection of it is already slipping away, leaving only an impression of warmth suffusing the edges of his mind. But it's hardly an admonishment for her waking him up; if anything, he's sure she was the one responsible for it.]
[When had it gotten this easy, to bend down and find his lips in the dark? Hayame does not know, and yet... she knows to trace his jaw with her fingers as she kisses him, her fingers trailing affectionately down to his sleep shirt and brushing over the arrowhead nestled on his chest.
Ah... As much as she wants to make sure he had not heard her, as much as she wished she could just say it, or at least maybe not just prove Claude's guess about her moods to be accurate... Hayame's cheeks are red and flustered, her voice quiet and soft in the dimly lit night when she whispers back to him,]
... What kind of dream?
[If he could just know, somehow, so that she needn't ever say it aloud...]
It was... nice. [He doesn't have much of his usual eloquence when he's still only half-awake, his touch moving to brush a thumb over her ruddy cheek.] I'm sure you were in it.
[And maybe she was caressing him just as gently as she is now, speaking softly then, too. Though he's not far off the mark, he couldn't guess what might be on her mind from that alone, except that she seems to feel-- restless, maybe.]
[A nice dream. One with her in it… ? Helplessly, her lips change the shape of her face with a soft, affectionate (slightly anxious) smile, and though she tries to hide it… How can she, when his fingers will feel her cheek shape change beneath his? So foolish…]
I… I had a dream, too.
[One when she was awake, and not asleep.]
About Almyra.
[A place she had never been. One she kept telling herself (and Khalid) that she would surely never see.]
[He looks surprised, happy, even. That's certainly something to wake him up instead of drifting back off to sleep, and he shifts to sit up a little, just enough to prop himself up on an elbow.]
Oh? And what was Almyra like, in this dream of yours?
[There's a slight teasing glint in his eye, but his reply is still gentle. It's rare for Hayame to admit she might imagine some place she's never seen, instead of dismissing it as an idle fantasy, a waste of time not to be entertained.]
[Perhaps she shouldn’t have said it, because now that she sees the light in his eyes she doesn’t want it to disappear. Her fingers flex and settle heavy over his chest, the arrowhead necklace distinctive against her palm.]
… It was beautiful.
[Like he’s described it. In poetry, in words, in snippets of sunbeam beads and stories. Full of sand and heat but with resilient people, good food…]
There were pomegranates there.
[Not the seedlings she had carefully started growing in the garden that a certain war god occasionally put some plant magic into, but real…]
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leicesters) wrote2022-12-06 08:26 pm
no subject
The kiss parts, and his gaze is soft when he looks up at her.]
Hey... [The smile on his face is peaceful, content.] I feel like I was having a nice dream.
[The recollection of it is already slipping away, leaving only an impression of warmth suffusing the edges of his mind. But it's hardly an admonishment for her waking him up; if anything, he's sure she was the one responsible for it.]
no subject
Ah... As much as she wants to make sure he had not heard her, as much as she wished she could just say it, or at least maybe not just prove Claude's guess about her moods to be accurate... Hayame's cheeks are red and flustered, her voice quiet and soft in the dimly lit night when she whispers back to him,]
... What kind of dream?
[If he could just know, somehow, so that she needn't ever say it aloud...]
no subject
[And maybe she was caressing him just as gently as she is now, speaking softly then, too. Though he's not far off the mark, he couldn't guess what might be on her mind from that alone, except that she seems to feel-- restless, maybe.]
What about you? Couldn't you sleep?
no subject
I… I had a dream, too.
[One when she was awake, and not asleep.]
About Almyra.
[A place she had never been. One she kept telling herself (and Khalid) that she would surely never see.]
no subject
Oh? And what was Almyra like, in this dream of yours?
[There's a slight teasing glint in his eye, but his reply is still gentle. It's rare for Hayame to admit she might imagine some place she's never seen, instead of dismissing it as an idle fantasy, a waste of time not to be entertained.]
no subject
… It was beautiful.
[Like he’s described it. In poetry, in words, in snippets of sunbeam beads and stories. Full of sand and heat but with resilient people, good food…]
There were pomegranates there.
[Not the seedlings she had carefully started growing in the garden that a certain war god occasionally put some plant magic into, but real…]
And you were happy.