songerein | ( closed ) women want me, fish fear me

Entry tags:

( closed ) women want me, fish fear me

Who: Kainé and Nier
Which: Log, Closed
Where: Wildlands, at the lake.
What: Wouldn't it be nice to go camping without it being out of necessity? Set prior to the Dream Faire.
Warnings: Likely language, will update as needed.

[Patience. They had talked a whole lot about patience before tackling this particular task together. So far, Kainé thinks she's handling fishing better than Weiss ever had— she remembered him doing a lot of yelling and 'scaring off the fish' the few times she had stuck around nearby long enough to listen. Most of Nier's fishing stops, she had opted to wander off with Emil instead, but her interest in learning the skill now is genuine. It's supposed to be practical, but Nier's genuine enjoyment of it tells her there's something else to it.

Except so far, she's not feeling the magic.

She leans forward on the log she's perched herself on, giving Nier himself a sidelong glance.]

Not a single damn bite. My line's been out ten minutes. Maybe these fish have gotten smarter.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

["You can touch me, too. If you want."

Nier can't quite put a finger on why hearing it makes him so nervous. Surely once upon a time he was better with this sort of thing. Maybe it's because where he and Kainé have stood in relation to one another, it's been largely unspoken aside from his sentimental words he's fluttered in her direction. Maybe it's because he's not exactly imagined this kind of exchange.

It's not quite the feeling of being a young boy with an infatuation. Something akin to, perhaps.

She speaks up against his mouth and the sensation in tandem with the careful threading of fingers into his hair leaves a little brush of cold along the plane of his back. It wouldn't take much to pull her into his lap, he thinks. Restraint lingers in his fingertips when he leaves the splayed touch of coarse fingertips about her knee, discipline a test that he's unsure if he can continue to pass.

His other hold traces over her wrist, atop her forearm, and follows the trail of strength and slender over a striking shoulder. He admires her wordlessly in his touch alone. She is both soft and resilient. She sets him to flame and composition, something she has done, he suspects, for longer than he's been truly aware of it. The warm flat of his palm curves along her back, familiarising himself with something he's thought long-forgotten.

He could drown her in a kiss if he's not careful and though he's measured in the press of lips, he feels betrayed by his feelings, treasonous things they are.]

[His touch is slow and steady; she doesn't miss the way he takes care as he lets it venture forward, along her arm and over her shoulder, down the curve of her back. When it comes to rest there, she feels all of her muscles go tense beneath the splay of his fingers for just a moment before she relaxes again; touch has been as rare in her life as genuine affection, largely be design, but she trusts him with this. She reminds herself that they can stop anytime, that if it becomes too much, all she has to do is say so, but for the first time since she can remember, she finds herself eager to test these limits, to stop forcing herself to be so goddamn isolated for once.

He makes it easy to want that, to want to open herself up to someone else without fear of rejection, a fear of getting burned.

She exhales against his mouth, their series of kisses becoming something more insistent on her end, finding herself braver and more demanding with each press of their lips. She'd never really allowed herself to entertain the thought that something like this might actually be within her reach, contented herself with fighting alongside him instead, and in the moment, it all feels very surreal— but the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips, the curve of his lips, the coarse edge of is own touch, they all serve as reminders that it's very, very real, indeed.]

[Has he thought much about what it might be like to touch her? To be this close? He’s sure somewhere in his mind he has. The rare moments when he’s allowed himself such a privilege. After the passing of his wife, he’s never thought much about moving on. Maybe because he’s not thought that he could. That perhaps it’s the duty of a widower to ever constantly mourn the loss of his other half. He’d never considered falling in love with someone else, picking up the remaining pieces of his very shambled life, and somehow stepping forward.

When he really stops to think about it and consider what all of this really means, it threatens to make him a touch nervous. It’s better, perhaps, not to think about it more than he has to. Kainé will likely appreciate that. It’ll keep him from saying anything too heavy. It’s one thing for him to bear such weight. It is quite another for him to put her through the same thing.

She gives him a chance for breath, one he sorely needs. The hardest part about this might be trying to read her without using words, on a playing field that he doesn’t know the rules to. He has to take her cues, verbally when she chooses to give them, but most of all to read how she reacts. That discovery, however, is tantalising. Letting her experience it, he wants to progress without impeding her. Let her find what she likes, what she wants. He wants more than anything just to please her in every aspect of the word.

His fingertips touch and dance over her, tactile and spreading. He is learning her just as much, he thinks, mapping what he has not spent much time looking intensely at. She would not like to hear it, but for all of that hard exterior, Kainé is brilliantly soft. No one has to be only one way, however. Every shade of grey in between is what makes the portrait of Kainé so beautiful.

Lifting a hand from where he’s gently placed it over hers, Nier carefully draws his thumb against the corner of her mouth. He’s positively enamoured with her. He thinks it. Drowns in the idea of it. But is almost certain if he were to say it, it would risk ruining everything. So he opts for something else instead. In the rough edge to his voice, softened by his words, but not absent the rumble that accompanies him, he speaks quietly.]

You’re beautiful, you know that?

[She’s so beautiful.]

Ah—

[It's a surprisingly soft sound that escapes her then; color floods her cheeks for a moment, from embarrassment as much as the warmth that his touch has caused to surge through her, and she clears her throat softly as she ducks her chin, smiling faintly, her lips curving against the gentle brush of his thumb.]

You don't... you don't have to say things like that.

[But she's not angry, not shunning it the way she might have in the past. It's... nice, even if she doesn't know quite how to handle such things. She exhales, her hand coming to rest against his thigh as the fingers of the other remain curled into his hair.]

I... know how you feel.

[He's being generous. Kind. She couldn't bear to hear that from most other people, would insist they were full of it, but the way those words sound coming from him makes her chest feel tight.]

[Her first response catches him by surprise. It's not a sound he's heard come from her before. He must tread with care, he knows. As he always has. In a way, she's right. He doesn't have to say it. But he does because to him it's the moment. It's appropriate. When he's holding her, when he's this close to her, all he wants to do is shower her in flattering remarks. It's not because he wants anything in return. It's because that's how he genuinely feels and sometimes it feels as if his insides might burst if he never has the chance to free them from tongue every now and again.

As her head dips, he leans carefully to rest his head against hers.]

If you don't like it, I won't do it.

[He's resolute on that. He can keep those kinds of things inside. It doesn't make him feel them any less. All he wants to do is love her with every part of his being. Isn't that all he has of value to give her? That love, in whatever capacity she wants it.]

Sometimes, it just feels like I can't contain it anymore. I can. I know that I can. I don't have a good excuse.

[His thumb moves and with a gentle blindness, he traces his touch along the height of her cheek.]

No, I...

[While she is sometimes a woman of few words by choice, it's not often that she can't actually find them. She exhales steadily; it's hard to keep her head on straight when they're this close, entwined with one another, not unlike when she finds herself lost in the heat of battle, though the thing making her heart beat fast is quite different this time around.

Mostly. She won't pretend that she didn't enjoy the way that fighting with him when they first met had gotten her heart racing.]

I like it.

[She just doesn't want him to feel like he has to. She turns her face into his touch without a second thought, feeling herself drawn to it.]

If that's how you feel, then... then you should say it. But you don't have to try to impress me.

[She's sure he knows that already.]

[She's so damn soft against the palm of his hand, riddled by age and circumstance. She'd hate hearing it, he's certain, and he knows better than to let too many praising words flutter from between his lips. She'd likely clock him right in the jaw if he said the wrong thing in such a crucial moment.

When she explains, he feels a small weight of apprehension lift from him. He's always more concerned about pushing her too far or putting her in a place that she doesn't want to be. To find out that he's not actually done that is far more relieving than he feels it ought to be.

For those moments as he's considering how to respond, he admires the way she fits against him. Kainé is light and gentle against him. For all of her hard and sharp edges, she also still carries a certain delicate demeanour to her person. As if she can be both incredibly hard and at the same time, immensely gentle. It's quite a feat to accomplish.]

I know that. [He reassures her with a smile.] You were already impressed by me.

[Is that a joke? Maybe a little. Something to loosen a little of that tension that he's put them both under. It might help alleviate some of the strain that he's certain he's put atop her heart inadvertently.]

I just think you're beautiful and I wanna say it to you every day I see you. Every morning that I wake up with you. Every night before I go to sleep. That's all.

[That joke of his gets a pronounced snort in response; the tension does dissipate, but it somehow manages not to ruin the mood of the moment. Maybe because an exchange like that is so them, it actually adds to it. That levity is appreciated, especially with what comes next. None of it is unwelcome— but kindness is still overwhelming at times, and what Nier has to offer her is well beyond that.]

That's all, huh.

[As if that weren't huge. As if it weren't something she'd always assumed would be unattainable for her, as if it didn't mean everything.

She runs a hand along his arm, letting it close around his wrist as she manages a smile again, caught somewhere between a smirk and strangely shy. Her softer parts always show when he's around, whether she likes it or not, but right now, she doesn't much mind.]

... sounds like kind of a big deal.

[Her response makes him grin from ear-to-ear. It's a little risky, wanting to be a little tongue-in-cheek with her, but he's confident that he knows her. Knows what'll give her a little more sense of comfort. Security. And that's what's important. He's happiest when she too, is happy. It's just as simple as that.]

Yeah. [He begins with that lopsided, dopey curve in his mouth.] That's all.

[His gaze drops from her for only the moments that he's watching the way she trails touch down along his arm. But it doesn't take long for his attention return to her face. He wonders if she's ever looked that happy before. The smile Kainé wears... it's so real.]

You're kind of a big deal, believe it or not.

[She has to laugh, and it's that dopey smile of his that does it, spurs her to lift a hand and plant it square against his face, fingers spread as she gives him a playful push. Not hard, not enough to hurt; there's nothing in it but affection, and if he looks past her fingers, he'll see that her smile has pulled wider, surprisingly bright.]

Come on.

[She can feel her ears turning red. Ugh, is she blushing? Gross.]

Nerd. But... I kind of get it.

[She does get it. It's how she feels about him.]

[She places her palm right up against his face and he humours her by playing along. It's just a little push, but he's melodramatic in how he rolls right along with it. She's grinning, though. It looks good on her, seeing that kind of happiness. As if she doesn't have a leash on it and isn't afraid to express it.

He hopes he gets so many more days like that with her.

He doesn't quite fall off the way he's sitting, but he does wobble about and playfully regains his balance, meeting her grin with one of his own.]

What can I say. Guess I'm just really good at being a nerd. You wouldn't want me any other way, right? If you keep makin' fun of me, though, I'm gonna pick you up and toss you right into the water.

[He plays along with her like it's the most natural thing in the world. Maybe for him, it is. She's never known anyone quite like him; nobody else has ever been so free or open with her, which isn't terribly surprising. It's not like she's ever been either of those things herself, so why should she inspire it with others?

But it's always like this with Nier. Comfortable. Easy.

She huffs at his threat, unable to banish her smile even as she attempts to scowl.]

You wouldn't dare. Love to see you try it.

[Not that she thinks he's bluffing, but it's fun to see how far she can push him.]

Yeah? You don't think so?

[That actually almost makes him laugh harder for some reason. It's not because he doesn't take her seriously. He absolutely does. But this right here, the exchange, the way they can go from one intense emotion into another is downright impressive.

He leans right toward her, attempting to snag the hand that she had previously pressed right into his face.]

You don't think I'm just a guy full of talk, do you?

[He doubts it. He's never shown her that in the past. Nier tends to be a man of words and action, never in the habit of not being able to back it up where it's necessary.]

[He catches her by the wrist, and she leans in to meet his gaze with her own, challenging as her grin pulls to one side. Those intimate moments are hardly forgotten, but this is a huge part of who they are, too— always intense, never doing anything by halves. He knows how to draw happiness out of her and hold onto it.]

I don’t know, you’re pretty old. Wouldn’t want you to break a hip.

[Like she hasn’t seen him achieve any number of athletic feats that would have been impossible for most people who weren’t them. He’s right— he’s always good to his word.]

The hell are you laughing about?!

[Even as she’s grinning wickedly at him, on the edge of laughter herself.]

[He's not sure he could be laughing any harder, honestly.]

You realise if I break a hip, you're gonna be the one taking care of me.

[He's grinning so grandly that it almost hurts. His touch traces over her wrist, down the length of her arm, he's purely looking for the right hold to hoist her up right over his shoulder.]

But I know you'd hate that, so I'm just going to have to be very careful when I'm tangling with you.

[His touch is light enough that someone else might not be suspect, but she has a hunch as to what he's looking for, and her gaze drops to one side to follow it even as her grin persists.]

Eh. Leave you with a bowl of water and drop off a crust of bread now and then, you'll be good enough.

[She's nobody's ideal nursemaid.]

Anyone counting on me to look after them is fooling themselves.

Might be potentially better than some of Yonah's stew, right? I might end up with a stomachache, though, and then I'll never let you hear the end of it.

[She's intuitive and more clever than she might be inclined to believe. He knows exactly what she's capable of and he knows that she can see through him when she wants to. His hold finally pauses. He's found the spot, he thinks. A right proper hold and he'll be able to largely lift and places.]

I'm not just anyone, though, eh?

That's a pretty low bar, don't you think?

[She lets out another snort of laughter; she's heard enough about Yonah's cooking to know that isn't saying much, but he's also probably not wrong.

It feels good to be joking with him like this. Their lives here aren't perfect, but it's damn near the closest to normal either one of them has ever had the chance to know, she thinks. They're missing people, but they're getting an opportunity to be versions of themselves they might not otherwise.

His hold pauses, and she clamps a warning hand on his wrist, a silent attempt to call his bluff.]

But no, you're not just anyone. Don't let it inflate your stupid ego.

[It really, really is. They've probably had worse things than the stew, but it's certainly one way one never forgets what they've had. That is to say, once having anything from Yonah, it's an unforgettable experience.

He's grinning down at her. He can feel the wordless warning in her touch, but he isn't afraid. He's probably never been afraid when he thinks about it. And it's not because Kainé isn't intimidating. She is, in her own way. It's because he simply knows better by this point.]

I like to think it's at a comfortable size.

[And they both know he's a modest man.]

Alleyoop, Kainé.

[He's got the hold and in the next few moments, his aim to carry her right over his shoulder until he can get into the water himself and toss her in at a safe distance. Can't have her hitting any rocks, after all.]

Goddamnit, I’m gonna kill you—

[She thumps a fist against his back as she finds herself slung over his shoulder, but there’s no power or malice behind it, and despite the threat, she’s laughing as he carts her towards the lake, unable to keep herself from doing so.

Stupid grinning bastard. That’s the thought that comes to her as she kicks her legs in protest, but nowhere near hard enough to break free- which they both know she damn well could if she wanted you.]

This means war!

Yeah, yeah. Sure you are.

[Nier huffs out a laugh and he offers a very gentle pat against the curve of her rear before he makes certain she's secured right where he's put her. It's bordering a little more brazen than he'd normally be, but she seems to be in a good mood. If she was going to kill him? She definitely would have done it sooner.

He hits the water and with a careful grip, he lifts her from his shoulder just enough to gently toss her right in with plenty of support. If love is war, then they've been at it for years by this point. He looks forward to so many more.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( closed ) women want me, fish fear me

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject