Scars

It was weird. They had fallen into a routine long ago, but the recent lull in Mythralos' work left the two of them with lots of empty time. Wisp did not seem to mind the downtime; if she did, she didn't mention it. Myth on the other hand, was going stir crazy with the lack of something to do. As he walked into the sitting room, probably for the 5th time today, he caught the vision of Wisp sitting across from him, a book in hand and the first golden rays of the late evening leaking through the half open curtains, teasing the edges of their long hair. 

Leaning a shoulder against the door frame, he took advantage of the opportunity. He'd long accepted his fondness for Wisp, allowing himself the indulgence of committing the scene before him to memory but not letting himself linger on the reason he'd chosen to do so. Her quiet voice broke his reverie.

"You seem to stare more than those I know with two eyes, Myth." He blinked in surprise, assuming she had not heard him come to the doorway, though it faded as quickly as it had come. Sitting causally in the lounge across from her, he leaned back, one arm outstretched on the back of the seat while the other rested on his knee as he brought that leg up to cross over his other. She looked up at him, eyes flicking to him for only slightly longer than he though necessary for someone who was so engrossed in their reading only a minute ago. The pause was all Wisp needed to see that he was restless; his jaw was set tight and though he looked casual there was a tenseness to his body that she had seen before plenty of times - he was bored. "I heard you pacing upstairs. Still no word?"

Myth huffed a laugh, a breathy thing that died on his tongue; he was bitter. His eye was still on her though, he watched as she turned the page slowly. She had her legs tucked up onto the chair though she had rolled to the side and was leaning on her elbow - something she does often when sitting for too long. He hadn't answered her question but she hadn't pushed further, he tilted his head. Many more seconds languidly passed between them, another page turned before she finally looked up at him and he found that he could not pull his eyes away from her once her attention was finally given. Why did it feel like this is what he was seeking? The unrest in his blood lulled in her gaze.

"Well?" Finally, she pushed.

"No." His words came quieter than he meant, like a whisper but not quite; a soft breath on the wind, maybe.

Wisp sighed, shutting the book in her hands, without marking the page, he noted. He followed the movement of her hands with his eyes as she did this, watching as she released her legs from their trapped position beneath her and returned the book to the side table by her chair.

Her chair. The thought blinked into his mind.

"And so, you are here." It was a statement, an observation, an invitation. His gaze met hers once again. She blinked, a smirk pulling on her face before she rolled her eyes at him. She watched the muscles in his jaw clench and his eyebrow quirked quickly, almost unnoticeable if she hadn't seen it happen many times before. He was rolling thoughts over in his mind, replaying them like a broken record. What those could be she dared not assume, the way his eyes has stayed glued to her for this short exchange left her hair on end; there was a tension between them in moments like these, one she easily picked up on as Myth was never forthcoming with any of his thoughts and often became more enigmatic when he had too much time on his hands. What was almost unsettling was that she could tell he was not staring through her, he was certainly staring at her. This was not a pause where he was lost in thought, looking but not seeing. No, he was looking at her, watching her. She laughed, a release to the nerves building in her, the tension loosening only a fraction.

"You make me wonder what effect both eyes would have on someone."

"I don't usually stare." His gaze fluttered from her face, to the book, the curtains, suddenly anywhere but her. She had to hold back a laugh, she had expected a sharp quip as he usually would have when she teased about his covered eye but this time he seemed to flounder. An idea sparked into her mind, perhaps she could take advantage of his brief awkwardness. Crossing the distance between them while he was looking elsewhere, she stood in front of him, calling his name.

"You'd get a better view with both eyes, you know." He blinked at her in disbelief, or maybe it was surprise. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, his brow furrowed as he processed the request she was making. It was one she had made before, one he had turned down every time.

"It... It doesn't work like normal." The corners of his mouth turned down and Wisp decides that she doesn't like this look on him, far too uncertain - far too vulnerable, it made her heart clench. Without thinking she softly brushed her fingers along his jaw, feeling his deep inhale at the contact. His eye blinked closed and she felt the tension of him holding himself back from leaning into her touch. This was not the first contact of the sort they had had. It was common for her to brush stray wefts of hair from his forehead or place a reassuring grip on his shoulder or forearm, not to mention when she tagged along with him on contracts there was plenty of physical contact between them be it a hand for balance or a push to run faster. But suddenly, as she played those moments over in her head she inhaled sharply at the realization that perhaps some of those touches had more meaning. Perhaps the hand pressed lightly between her shoulder blades was not to direct her through a crowd efficiently; perhaps the brushing of fingers along her cheek was not to clean the dirt or dust from her face. 

Her heart clenched in her chest again, if she was wrong, if she was overthinking or placing her own feelings into the situation then it could spell disaster for her standing with him. Even so, as he sat there, eye closed with his cheek in her hand, Wisp couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"Can I see?"

Myth swallowed thickly, the warmth of her palm against his face was far too intoxicating and his thoughts that were normally precise and ordered like arrows through their target were barely being dredged from the depths of his mind, tangled into knots that he could not undo. He found the answer on his tongue before he could even weigh any options. Yes. Yes, gods, yes he wanted to show her his eye, his most dangerous strength and his greatest folly; the very thing that nearly killed him those many years ago. There was a morbid part of him that told him she would hate him for it, she was not stupid and though he was not honest with the few answers he gave to her questions about it, Wisp knew the gravity of how he acquired the eye that he hid everyday. But before the words could truly leave him her hand retracted, the moment was slipping through his grasp and his eye snapped open.

"Sorry, I know that-"

"Yes." He hadn't even realized that in his haste to not lose her presence he had grabbed her arm, his legs now uncrossed as he gently pulled her close again. "Yes, you can... see it." 

Wisp's wide eyes had his mouth dry. A flash of regret shocked his nerves but he pushed it down. He would not deny her this time. His conviction strengthened as her hand, once more, found itself on his cheek. Her thumb brushed the curve of the patch that covered his other eye.

"You might not like what you see, though." He warned, quiet and slightly strained and he struggled to control the tremble that threatened his voice. A soft smile bloomed on her face and once again he was unable to look away, just as he had been when he walked into this room - into this situation.

"I've liked what I've seen so far, what's one magic eye?" He could die, right now, in this moment and he would not regret it. In fact, he felt he might die any second with how fast his pulse was roaring through his body; his heart would implode before he could wholly give it to her. Her smile, her words of reassurance, the ghost of her touch beneath the eye that he desperately hated and coveted in the same breath. She whispered his name, tracing the line of this cheekbone once again.

"Shall I?"

He exhaled shakily. He nodded, far too slight but he knew she felt the tilt of his head. Her other hand found purchase on his shoulder as she came closer, her hips barely caged by his legs.

He could not stop himself from closing his eyelids as Wisp gently brushed his eye patch aside. He was sure she could feel the trembling of his hands as they grasped her elbows. Why was this destroying him? Why did he feel like he might burst into flames at any moment? Again, she whispered his name, her thumb gently, barely, touching the jagged scar beneath his left eye.

"Let me see, please." A plea. So soft, everything about her was soft and he choked back a sob, he truly felt he was dying. Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his eyes to her and his heart nearly stopped. Her rapt attention was focused on him, her other hand came up to mirror the first, securing his face in her hands. He forced himself still, eyes flicking between hers as he watched awe bloom across her face.

"You said it... doesn't work like normal. What do you see?" He burned under her gaze, haloed by the sunlight he saw the crystalline lines of her face before him; multicolored facets of light danced across her stark white hair that framed her face, her eyes like brightest emeralds holding a reverence he thought only the Sisters deserved directed at him.

"Beautiful." The words whispered like a prayer for only her ears. She pulled herself closer and he felt her hands tip his head up slightly as she leaned over him. She pressed her lips to his brow where the marred flesh of his scar cut through it.

"Yes, you are." She spoke into his skin, pulling away but replacing her lips on the bottom half now, where her fingers had brushed his cheekbone minutes before. He wrapped his hands around her waist now, pulling her into his hold as he slid his head onto her shoulder. She chuckled at him but he knew it held only warmth.

"Thank you." He rasped. Unwilling to speak any louder lest the bubble of this moment burst and crash around him. Wisp settled into his hug, wrapping her arms around his neck loosely, fingers finding purchase in the hairs at the back of his neck as she raked her nails gently along them. If she noticed the shiver this elicited from him, she didn't mention it. She pressed another kiss to the top of his head and Myth felt as if this was a dream, this was far too gentle, far too soft and nice for him to receive in normal circumstances. He was sharp and angry, cold as ice and-

"You don't have to wear it around me if you don't want to. I can't imagine it's comfortable..." The end of her statement faded off, a lingering thought. His grasp on her tightened a fraction, squeezing her midsection as his answer before pulling away.

"If you wish me to, I wont deny you." The smile that left him breathless returned and he committed it to memory with no doubt as to why. Together they settled on the lounge he was seated on, her hand in his hair still, her legs sideways over his as his arm curled around her back and he told her everything about his eye. How it happened and why he chose to do so and she listened to every word with that same rapt attention she had previously. And Myth thought, as the sun sunk below the horizon that he ought to not die, not just yet, not until he could find all the ways to make that smile appear over and over again.