hand of shadow

You think that might worry you even more. This easy laughter is just that; too easy. Phainon is beautiful and brave and tender and sincere, everything and nothing, and this is how you know he can also be a liar.

"Was I too obvious? If we're not careful, we might have Mydei pestering us soon enough." He inches a hand out to your side, glancing to the sea as he speaks, and you intertwine your fingers.

Rolling your eyes, he elicits laughter, and you damn him for being so disarming. "Really? Aren't you always pestering him, actually? It seems to me he manages to flip your bait back onto you, more than you actually manage to bother him."

He narrows his eyes at this, frowning. "Aren't you supposed to be in my corner? See, this is how I know he's bothering us— he's turning you against me without being here!"

His fingers dive for your sides and you quiet a shriek, flinching at your own ticklishness. You recognize what the brief grab really wants to ask and as he starts to inch his hands back to his sides, you hold them with your own.

Phainon exhales, smile slipping, the simple act too simple to make into a shield for himself, and he must understand that you understand because he's silent for a beat after. It's one you're grateful for, because he steels himself and smiles again.

"How was your day?" He bids, polite and simple. You raise an unimpressed brow at such small talk. "Come on now, is it so wrong to want to know how my beloved is doing?"

Beloved. Even with pretenses upheld, the word still rings true, his voice slipping when he says it, unable to hide the weight of the word. It makes your heart flutter, so you let his questioning slide for now.

"Fine, good. I bought us some groceries…maybe splurged on a few trinkets. There was this sun catcher I found, you'll have to see it when it's brighter out. It's beautiful, you know?"

It made me think of you, you don't say.

He nods, then narrows his eyes. "Did you go antique hunting without me?"

"Never! This one's brand new. I wanted to make sure it was as bright as possible."

"Trying to blind me, then?" His voice runs accusatory, and his hands torment your sides once more, but this time they don't try to pull away after you giggle.

"Your accusations wound me, y'know," you huff. "If there's one thing I never want, it's to hurt you. I'd sooner take the fall in your stead."

Phainon's expression hardens, something like worry etching itself onto his face, although you know that it never truly left. When he speaks, the words run soft like the waves lapping against the dock, a barely concealed storm hiding under the water.

"I can't allow that, can I? I won't allow it, not…" Not ever again, goes unsaid. He swallows, and shudders out a laugh.

"I came to understand my responsibilities long ago. Ensuring your safety is one of them. Even if I burn up and fall apart, I know that this is my role to play, if it comes to you. I've never wanted anything else." Phainon makes eye contact when he says it, but his gaze really feels as though it's looking through yours. You brush your thumb over his cheek, squeezing, and are rewarded with the full weight of his gaze. He swallows.

You present a gentle smile.

"I've never wanted anything but your happiness," you offer.

His breath hitches, pained. Even as you undo him with every word, he tries to hold strong and stubborn. "I know. But you don't— you don't understand, what happens when I'm selfish. Or when I'm not selfless enough. It's what's gotten us to here, today. I can't just turn away now."

Herein lies the problem; you also know of, at least, the torment he and even others suffer when he is so endlessly compassionate. He burns up with it, until you're left to find nothing but charred ash.

You wonder in this instant how many times you have died at his blade, a cost born of his hopes to be selfless enough to one day drag in peace. Even if peace means he will catch flame, and burn until he is naught but still-warm embers.

The idea goes unsaid, but it echoes in your mind. Such a question would make him turn away, but you find it only makes you want to draw him in closer.

"You're not turning away. I'm right here. Even if more things come, I will find you." You trace down his throat, stopping at his collarbones. "I always did, right?"

Phainon's mouth opens, but it is the only sound out of him, words ash on his tongue. For all of his famed debates, he was never quite good at arguing with you.

"We're here today. And I'm safe, even when you haven't been by my side all day, even when you're torn between what you need to do," you continue. "So I'll always wait, for you to return, and for you to just be a bit more selfish. I can wait through everything, because it's you I've always wanted, and nothing more."

Your fingers drift down, to around his waist, and in the same breath you press your head to his chest. To remind him that someone wishes to hear the beating of his own heart.

"Tomorrow, you can splurge on antiques. And pair two decorations together in an ugly color combination, to drive me crazy because I know you've learned better." It's a merciful shift, because you've noticed the tears barely formed in his eyes.

Phainon laughs, nervous, but real. "Do you think so low of me?"

"Yes. You're not as glorious as you seem, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae. You're lucky you're wonderful enough to keep me coming back.

He smiles, arms reaching around you. "Is it so bad that I want you to stay?" You catch the tinges of nervousness there, still seeking confirmation.

Bringing up a hand to stroke his hair, your heart bursts at the seams with a love you can't quite hide.

"No. It isn't bad at all."