Hanna's corner

Shining, Shimmering, Splendid:

Wherever she went, he was never far behind.  Cherise turned her head, and low and behold, there was Falk. His stare admiring her, draped in sunlight, pale skin on display. A simple two-piece bathing suit, blazing hair flowing in the breeze, eyes alight.  Here she was trying to cure the unbearably high temperature and he was stoking the fire. Not a hint of shame nor regret to be found by the looks of him.

It's falling faster then the way you love to shut me down:

The chaos he unleashed on her senses never failed to knock her off balance, she realized, as they walked together. Enough space to be polite, too close to be casual.  His blonde hair had grown slightly, so light in the gleam of the sun, his green eyes hidden behind the shades of his glasses, flashes of pale skin on display, his hand almost brushing hers.  The sun brought out a warmth in his skin, a dusty flush of color.  Funny how he could have her fuming or filled with admiration.  Color livened all its surroundings, but their dynamic seemed to have left them in grey scale. There were only flashes and touches of shades when together.

You're like the only thing I see:

It was nothing short of perfect.  Nate always went all out, not a single stop spared.  She had a feeling he was incapable of anything less. 

“Does it ever bother you?” “Hm?” “All the attention you garner.” “I think you flatter me.” He leaned in closer, the brown of his eyes standing out. “I think all the looks we’re getting say otherwise,” she gestured with a subtle tip of her head.  With a fleeting glance around, his gaze returned to her. “I think it would be rather impossible not to be captured by you.” Her eyebrow raised a little, a little shake to her head as she fought the smile that wanted to break out. “You’re impossible, Agent Sewell.”  “I’d say you have me figured out perfectly, Agent Olsen.” While there was an agreement to not bring up work, flirtation didn’t really count in her books. It seemed it was the same for him.

Some kind of night into your darkness:

Birds of a feather, some might say. While there were contraries between them, at the same time they drew them together. It was hard to believe there was a time she couldn’t stand him, thought there was nothing more to him than sharp words and glares.  There had been so much more hiding behind those clouds of smoke.  There was no frown on his lips, no wrinkle to his brows. He looked.. At ease. Her focus had shifted to him, the mix of feelings easing in her core. Mason seemed to have that effect on her.  “You didn’t have to come.” She whispered, glancing away from him. Knowing if he hadn’t wanted to, he wouldn’t have. “I know.”  It seemed the two words were all he had to offer. He wasn’t a man of few words for nothing. 

Mason had felt helpless- powerless against whatever was the cause of her distress. He couldn’t fight what he couldn’t see. Moonlight highlighted her skin, the shine of it lighting up her dull eyes, warmth slowly flooding in, breathing life or whatever she was missing back into her.  Her arms loosened from her knees, falling to her sides. Lifting her head, she glanced up at him.  They held one another’s stare, shades of grey meeting.  Cherry leaned up, planting the softest of kisses against his lips. He wasted no time in deepening it. Palm reaching up and caressing her cheek, before dragging down until it rested on her neck. A low hum falling from her throat.  Eventually they parted, her forehead pressed against his, breathless in the only way he ever wanted her.

And Love:

Risk was something they had come to toe the line of, experiment with how far they could go without being caught. Skipping on slippery stepping stones, mishap or not, they'd bound through or fall together. It was a steep hill, whether it was them lounging near an open window or Falk surprising her during work and kissing her senseless. It had been so since the beginning of their relationship. "You look like a dream wrapped in gossamer." The fairytale like words crept up on her, dragging her gaze to meet his. Just to find he was already staring, so many indescribable things in the depths of inky black encased in gold. "And you're a vision in sunlight."

Cherise leaned in, intent clear across her face before hovering. "The only human incapable of resisting supernatural charm and you just couldn't help yourself, could you?" It was so easy to fall under his spell, be drawn in by his nature. A heart-devastating grin pulled at his lips. "I think my being equally as besotted with you makes up for it, wouldn't you say?" Falk closes the gap between them, nose gently bumping hers as they rest together. A man so eloquent you could never picturing him tripping over his own feet, and on occasion did so in her name.

Be my once in a lifetime:

There was a internal struggle, whether to wake him or to let him slumber peacefully. "I can feel you staring," He mumbled, all without opening his eyes. "You don't like it?" She teased in a whisper. "Not what I said." He countered, with a humorous edge to his voice. A smile tipped her lips, head slightly tilted on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open to reveal a kaleidoscope of black and gold. The welcome sight of her dimples greeted him, of which he couldn't help but reach out and caress her cheek. Her hair was a mess of disheveled curls, glossy eyes fresh from sleep, her body curled around his. An arm slew over his chest, a leg draped over his lower half, her head resting just by the slope of his neck. It was home. "Do you-" "Do you really wish to move?" For one able to resist her mind being read, he usually finished her sentences, answered her questions before they could fully flee her mouth. It should have been eerie, how well he knew her. The way he could read her body language, pick up on any of her hints or queues. Except it wasn't, never would be. Because to be loved was to be known. Her soul had been long bared, her heart in his hands, her thoughts in his mind, her body long acquainted with his. A small shake of her head sufficed this time.

The taste, the touch, the way we love:

"Not even at my strongest could I deny you a thing." The promise sent a thrill through her, the exhilaration of romance a drug on it's own. "You're welcome to brush it to your hearts content after," is yet another promise he makes. Whether it was by her fingers or by bristles, it didn't seem he cared. "You might come to regret that," she teased, a playful tone coloring her voice. "All you threaten me with is a good time, meor'dal." He knew such words would elicit a reaction, one he hoped for. "You know I'm already going home with you, right?" The immediate eye roll that coaxed from him made laughter fall from her lips.

Cherise's eyes shined in silver adoration for him, while he stared back much the same in affection drenched gold. "Let's go home." "The party's not over yet," She protested, halfheartedly. "I've seen enough to know where I'd rather be," Falk confessed, gently nosing her cheek. And how could she deny him now? No matter appearances, etiquette was usually thrown out the window and sacrificed for their heart's desires. There hadn't been a time yet where he had chosen or even pretended to consider putting obligations ahead of her. Her heart threatened to burst with what that meant to her.

Ruin The Friendship:

The fingerprints of her love were left all over them, and he had no idea how he would rid himself of them, if he even wished too. His heart was bereft, left in her bed as the feelings still residing in him followed through the pane. If he hadn't, he wasn't sure what he would have done. With Cherry, with himself. The ache in his chest, and the one behind his eyes was unrelenting.

The lower half of her face hidden behind the crook of her arm. The downturn of her lip, the way it quivered. The long stare that stretched out before her, out of focus. The prickle at the back of her throat, out of breath. Most of all, how her eyes were downcast, accumulating tears. Until she turned on her back, closed her eyes to prevent the spill. Because if she let it out, there was no way of drawing it back in. Regret had caught up with her. Or was it heartbreak? It was always going to end this way, no matter how she wished the night wouldn't end.

Selfcare:

The sound of her voice as she recalled meaningless details, the look as she gazed at him with something akin to adoration in the grey scale. He'd seen her in many states, and there wasn't one he didn't like, so long as she was happy.  It was preposterous to think she didn't know the effect she had on him. He'd hoped the point was proven by now. Although he wouldn't mind proving it all over again if deemed necessary.

Floating above the rest of the world, the sensory mess that it was. Soft hands and even softer gestures, writing the day away with spirals of each other. She was gentle with him, as no other had been, bothered to be, really. Her fingertips caressing the curve of his ear, tracing over his scars, holding his hand. And whether she drew shivers, smiles, or laughter from him, it didn't matter. They all belonged to her.

Cross your fingers, tell me it's forever:

Skidding to a stop before her apartment door, she goes to dig her keys out of the depths of her purse. Before she can, the lock clicks and it swings open. Her eyes flew up from her bag to the cause, filled with glee. Shining with it, really. A cheeky grin uplifting her features, teasing words escaping her that she doesn't bother stop. "Finally learned how to use a door?" "Charming."

With a touch so tender, it might as well have been him saying "I'm in love" It was far from normal, the kind of love that was the hold your head in your hands kind, all-consuming and head over heels, where if it ended, both of them would be ruined in the name of this love. It was terrifying in all it's perfect and devastating glory, and it was all they ever wanted. At the end of the day, normality was overrated.

Why'd you have to chase the light?:

Tear-filled laughter was shared, unfaltering smiles, wiping away each other's sorrow. But sorrow was a stain, marring the hearts and souls it touched, the reminder of lost love. Not easily swept away, even at the hands of those it was for. Even if streaked, it would soon return clearer once again. With a vengeance after the attempt of sending it away and the audacity to struggle out of it's reach, even though temporary. He had long disappeared from their lives, but he was imprinted on them forever. Cherise couldn't tell if she wanted to dream of him forever or to never see him here again. The former and latter equaled in anguish. The reminders are stark; places in town, fathers with their daughters, the old station, people at the agency, the mention of cases.  'You're everywhere I go. Around every corner, on countless streets, with people I don't know. Embedded in this very town. The land won't let me dare forget If only it knew.'

Going through some of my older fics was so much fun! I forgot how many line I adored in them. I didn't want this to just be all unposted content (I'll make a masterlist someday I swear)

Then I moved onto my drafts! There was an overwhelming amount of Falk and Cherise, thousands of words or halfbaked ideas, a bunch I have to write and edit instead of spitting out more ideas😭

I love the short ones I did with UB though (sorry to Felix, I never finished his💔) but I've been so Falk brained for so long and that hasn't changed a bit LOL

Very little Rebecca as I haven't worked on anything with her and Cherise for a minute, too much Falk/Cherise and the Rook angst that's been brewing in my drafts for months

Here's a snippet:

Falk's voice trailed off, before he circled back to the previous topic. "But that's not what I came for.. I had hoped you would give me the tour The Agency promised until I was told you just arrived back." My eyebrow arched. "I thought someone else was assigned for that?" A slight wave of his hand dismissed the mere notion. "Change of plans, I requested you." "You do realize she isn't at your beck and call, right?" While it was needless, Leon didn't let Falk steamroll over me, and any plans I might have. In truth, there were none. "No, just yours I'd presume?" "That's not-" A burst of laughter spilled from my lips, as Leon tripped right into Falk's trap, bait and catch. It broke the simmering tension between the two men, my laughter coming down as a blade and cleaving through it. Before I knew it, Falk was before me, right at the bedside where I sat. "If it's out of your way, I'm sorry for my assumption." There was a genuine lilt to his voice, one that made my heart melt. Falk's nature with me was usually playful, teasing, flirtatious. This was a rare moment where he dropped that, ready to apologize if the time called for it. "Not at all, I'd love too." I murmured, a soft smile on my lips. "How I do so love hearing that." He assured. With no distance between us, the smaller details came into focus. "Oh, look what they did to this pretty face." Falk cooed. Hand reaching up to cup my cheek, ever so gently grazing the scratch on my face. "Does this hurt?" "Not if I don't think about it." I was laying it on thick, unconsciously leaning into his touch.

The beginning of this fic heavily features Falk flirting because he's more forward about that, he knows what he wants and he wants YOU to know it (as we seen in B2, he isn't careless with these affections, he doesn't say it for the whole world to hear but in this case he isn't worried about Leon knowing LOL)

Leon's bleeds a little into the background, it's more familiar, comfortable, speaking in actions rather then words because he hasn't let himself explore the idea of anything happening (even though he does have the reputation of being a little flirt, I feel like it would be different if he already cared about you, already knows you and that makes it not casual)

This fic is an excuse to pair them together, to imagine what they would be like and how their dynamic would work, what kind of lovers would they be, etc

It's my first time in ages writing first person so expect mistakes! I try to edit best as I can but things do escape me

While I did call it a love triangle before, the definition doesn't necessarily suit it, it would be more "why choose" because it does end up with you choosing the both of them-

It may start out as a "will they, won't they" thing but it quickly devolves from that

I've never written something like this, so it's fairly new to me and why I was a little nervous to share lol

While she does know Rook and Cherise aren't the same, they sort of become interchangeable, her daughter is the only thing left of her husband, and there are so many things about her that are him

It doesn't help that she's following in his footsteps, that she puts her life on the line for other people, that her heart lives on her sleeve

Just as the personality aspects, the physical attributes contribute to it, given they have the same grey eyes. smile, dimples

Even if unconsciously at times, she compares them

This sort of plays into that, because while Rebecca runs away from the past in reality, she can't do that in her dreams

I think in those scenarios the two sort of blend, she's already lost her husband and now what's left of him is in the field, risking the same things he did

In a twisted sense, waiting for the other shoe to drop! She assumes the existence of these flashes is only to taunt her, some part of her brain that can't forget

Cherise is this exposed weakness of hers that she has no idea how to handle and while Rebecca loves the parts of him that make up her, in the same breath she fears them

Those same ones didn't save him, didn't serve any good when death came for him

So she feels the need to protect that, even in doing so, she's failed in shielding her from the world that took Rook away from her

I think it speaks measures that The Agency has consumed her life, and other then Cherise she doesn't have anything outside of it anymore, a testament to how far grief made her drive people away, give up any hope or fairy tale notions because it's all make-believe and without him, being a mother didn't come natural (as she said) it became something she couldn't fathom being without him

🚨SPOILER ALERT🚨

Spoilers for "Why'd you have to chase the light?" below for those that don't wish to see

After the dream Cherise experiences, she feels inclined to reach out to her mother, to reach some sort of standing with her, to just try

It's not something she's ready for, she hasn't remotely come to terms with all the secrets and changes in her life, forgiving Rebecca hasn't even crossed her mind until now, until some guilty part of conscience thinks it's what Rook would want

Cherry loves her mother, has even for who she is and always will, but there's still a deep unsettlement about what was kept secret

Loving her mother has never been the problem, even if she doesn't resonate with her as a person or bring herself to support the choices made without her knowledge

Getting over being deceived was easier with Unit Bravo, because at the time they had no attachment to her, unlike her mother who had every reason to at least try to include her or in the very least not leave her in the dark

Delving into the cracks of their relationship has never happened (aside from the B3 scene over the birthday party) so it's mainly them tiptoeing around each other until eventually one of them falls and breaks the fragile front they've made

It's not genuine so it doesn't feel right, both of them know it but don't have the courage to broach the subject but it's only a matter of time

Rook's actually rolling in his grave😭 The amount of unresolved conflict would give him hives

He would be the catalyst that brought them together again, because truly no one has put these two in a room together to work things out and force them to actually look at what they haven't faced

And I think he's the only one because no one else remotely means the same to them as he did and with love comes compromise

Rook would open their eyes to their shared faults, unspoken feelings, and what's been left unsaid for so long, alongside to put their differences aside for a minute and focus on their similarities, basically an intervention😭

However he's not around to do so, so we're left in a vicious cycle💔

The dream- the utter fantasy that had tormented him had materialized, transpired when the sky turned the inky shade of midnight.

It was the best thing to have overcome him in ages.

The last thing he recalls was being tangled up in the sheets, slivers of moonlight kissing their skin as he held her, noses resting as one as he whispered sweet nothings while she smiled.

One last soft and sleepy hum before he had succumbed to slumber.

The sun was a rather rude awakening, harsh and unforgiving, as he blinked away sleep.

Barely able to keep his eyes open, a disgruntled sound escaped his throat.

Truly, they should have closed the blinds.

There had been no time for reprieve, however.

Now his heart was facing what it had once refused, the beginning of the end.

Just as dreadful and familiar much to his dismay.

Acknowledgement that this was fleeting made his nose wrinkle, something he preferred to overlook.. and here it was.

Stark and unavoidable.

If his feelings had a tangible appearance to them, an overhead gloom would be casted over him.

How was he meant to do this?

Just leave like this hadn't been the best night of his life.

Wrapped up in her, her bedsheets, her scent.

To later act like this hadn't happened, to pretend he didn't know the feel of her, like he hadn't memorized her every curve.

To leave this odd little town to never see her again.

A pang struck his heart, tightening the arm around her waist.

Every glimpse of her was a recollection.

The gleam of her teary eyes, the purse of her soft lips, the sound of her lulling voice.

All sights she had put in his trusting hands.

How he had ever convinced himself one night would be enough, he would never know.

There was no facing her with a sense of normality after this, to look away when she was the only thing he wanted to see.

Being subjected to the fate of never knowing holding her hand, caressing her face, kissing her lips, learning her eyes.

Reliving the wounds he had sustained not too long ago would be easier then this.

How had this happened? How had he let himself fall this far- this deep in so little time? For a human no less.

Except she was not any human, this was Cherise.

The woman who confronted him head-on, that broached the subject of his view of the world, who urged him to try and let go of his hatred. Who when faced with his anger, reassured him and offered him her hand.

The detective who didn't give up and knew he deserved a second chance.

Safety and a place to land.

True to her word, she had done this for him.

The soft stirring beside him drew him out of his thoughts momentarily.

Sunlight graced her, brought out the brightness in her, illuminated her skin, highlighted her freckles. That unmistakable glow she emanated.

How was he supposed to make it through this? This devastation that clung to his chest that had no right to be so all-consuming.

Ignoring the sensation, there was no time to be wasted.

Just as he did with the sun, Falk would soak in every minute he could of her.

It mattered naught that it might sting, that this sensation would be hard on his eyes.

It could burn and he would still stay.

Leaning into her presence, his face found the curve of her neck, his hand familiarising itself with her skin, his legs curling behind her own.

Hiding from the rest of the world, from reality for a short time.

The rest of humanity could dwindle, but this, he wanted for himself.

Letting his breathing even out, his eyes fluttered shut.

He could have this, for now.

At least until the cursed sun rose to the tops of the sky.

A soft sound flittered from her lips, accompanied by a shuffle of movement until they were chest to chest.

Cherry's eyes remained closed, one of her legs draping over his hip, her face buried in his shoulder and hair.

Lounging in blissful ignorance, the urge to peek was impossible to resist, with her so close.

The sight that greeted him was well worth it, the ease of her features, the flutter of her lashes, the downturn of her lips.

The more he looked, more he saw.

The marks he had left on her in the heat of the moment, staining her perfect skin with blooms of color.

Indentations of teeth, the work of his tongue, the scrap of his talons, all proof of what had come to pass.

He was most likely also an unseemly sight.

Hair tousled from it's braids, scratches down his back, remnants of lipstick on his skin accompanied by the work of her lips and teeth.

Truly, the pair of them were the definition of a mess.

Falk was so caught up in reminiscing, he had failed to notice when her eyes opened, how she studied him from the corner of her eye.

"Your eyes look like melted gold in the sunlight." Cherise whispered to him, like it was their little secret.

Ignoring the hitch in his breath was quite the challenge, as there was no doubt she had felt it.

"Yours are the shade of a strike of lightning." He murmured in turn, as showering her in compliments came natural to him.

There was no movement from her, not even a flinch as his talon caressed her cheek, just under the sweep of her eye.

The shade of grey was unique, akin to storm clouds, tumultuous oceans, whirlwind hurricanes.

All things that warranted a warning, that should have swayed one away.

All promises of destruction that he would love to see. That he would endure if it meant basking in her presence.

Do you hear yourself? He internally scolded himself.

Reduced to shambles at the mere notion of this woman, of the temptations she offered that had nothing to do with her blood.

Unable to hold himself together, as if he were young all over again.

Under the clutches of this inscrutable force, disassembling whatever head he had on his shoulders.

Filled with the exhilaration that was attraction, intimacy, curiosity.

Falk was riddled with want and the only cure was out of reach.

Or so that's what he told himself. Could the cure be the very thing that had infected him?

Falling in any deeper signified imminent demise and yet he made no move to leave, to shuffle out of this building and escape back to the safety of his people.

Idly, the tips of his fingers explored her skin, unable to fathom how soft she was, how lax under his touch.

He had never been so glad that two worlds collided, that no matter how human she was, she belonged in his world.

It didn't escape him how selfish that sounded, he just looked the other way from his tactless tendencies.

Regardless of them, she hadn't held them against him.

A sort of sharp inhale was heard in the silence of wind chimes, as her forehead rested against his own. A gentle nuzzle as her nose reacquainted itself with him.

This was no half measure, as her body clung to his. Arms carelessly wrapped around him, legs entangled under sheets, conjoined as one as they shared air.

Their hair made a mess of red and silver, splashed over pillows.

This woman had befallen him like an angel, appearing before him when he least expected it, pouring this light unto him that changed his life. No matter if he was undeserving or not.

But when she left, all would be taken with her. Gone was the glow of her being, whisked away was the warmth, taken the light with her and forsaking him.

Even the premise made his throat tighten.

If only they hadn't met.

If only she hadn't been so kind.

If only he hadn't invited her in.

So many "what-if's" involved in his mind.

Except he wouldn't exchange this, even if he could never have it again.

He would remember her as she was, the one good thing humanity had that convinced him it wasn't all bad.

Inherently, the feel of her under his hands, the taste of her on his tongue, the sound of her voice like music to his ears, wouldn't so easily fade.

Those would stick with him, cling to his skin and permeate his dream space.

He would cherish them, even if he never felt something quite like this again.

Falk had survived alone for such a time, he would persevere again.

Cherise came back into focus, the shine of her eyes, the ever so reverent look in them. There was no telling if they were glassy because of the glare of the sun or the sight of him in pure sunrise with nothing left to hide him.

"Please don't look at me like that." He managed to plead, to coax out of his throat as he wished for the opposite.

He caught the faint swallow her throat attempted to make, the nervous twitch of fingers and the beat of her heart against his chest.

What didn't escape him was how she didn't avert her eyes.

The careful touch of her hand resting on his collarbone.

"It's the only look I have." She whispered in quiet admittance, a note of guilt in her tone.

She just had to be honest, to cut through any self preservation he had left.

It's been said he's impossible to read but now he feels painfully laid out for display, bared for the sake of her touch and in the sense of vulnerability. Just for the chance to see her and be seen in kind.

I want to see all of them is what he wanted to say, daringly so.

The only thing to be heard was the aching silence, the sound of their intermingled breathing and the flow of wind and the unsettled chimes outdoors.

Before he reached the point of no return, Falk dragged himself free from her grasp.

Sitting up in her bed, their clothes were strewn across the floor. Her walls were colorful, bright in a way that represented her perfectly. That could almost invoke a smile from him.

Nonsensical fool. He reprimanded himself.

Leaning over the tangle of sheets, he went in blind search of any articles of his clothing.

Cherise had sat up, leaning on one elbow while watching him.

The stare burned into his back, until he felt movement.

Sidling up behind him, her front pressed to his back. Her chin resting in the crook of his shoulder and hiding there.

"Please stay." She asked of him, simply and softly.

Devastatingly dangling this dream right before him and beckoning him to take it. To sink his claws in and keep it.

It seemed out of the two of them, she had far more endurance.

"Don't do this to me." He pleaded, her words freezing his hands from any effort.

The slash of hurt across her face almost made him want to flinch.

"Would staying be such an awful thing?" She asked hesitantly, withdrawing just an inch.

Leave it to her to bring him to his knees.

It seemed even a modicum of space wasn't something he could tolerate, as he caught himself turning before he could stop himself.

Catching her hand in the hold of his own.

"You know that's not why."

A sort of realization fell over her features, an understanding only she found with him.

"Falk.."

For someone who glided along with her words, this simple confession left her speechless.

And the words just kept pouring out.

"It would be the only thing I want."

Falk lifted his free hand to cup her face, caressing the expanse of her freckled skin, enamored as she leaned into him.

"Leaving you is hard enough as is, meor'dal."

The endearment left his lips easily, effortless as it was the only thing that could capture what he felt for her.

Leaving the safety of sheets, he found himself with her in his lap.

Once again wrapped up in each other.

"Then don't," she offered, plainly and without pause. "Be here with me."

Any hopes of fleeing with his heart intact were dashed away, with a far better alternative.

His arms came to wrap around her, cradling her form.

"For however long you want." He promised.

"Give someone an inch and they'll take a mile.." She teased breathlessly, poking at the spoken promise.

"Will said miles lead to forever?"

The question is asked lightly, as he rolls her beneath him, tucked away from prying eyes and sunshine.

"Careful what you wish for," she whispered, an easy smile on her lips. "You never know what might come true."

"I don't make wishes lightly," he says in turn, all too earnestly.

It makes her cheeks warm and the soft sound of disbelieving laughter graces his hearing.

A sight for sore eyes.

Surging forward, his lips find home in hers.

Without hesitation, her hands cradle his face before slipping into his hair, to their rightful place.