gale dekarios the man you are

“I would never attempt anything of the sort without your permission,” he says, voice lower now. “Nor without rules.”

“Rules,” Deia echoes, though she is already walking toward him.

“Yes.” Gale’s gaze follows her with open, helpless appreciation. “A word to stop. A word to slow. Your magic held close enough that I can feel if anything turns wrong. Mine open enough that you can pull it apart if you wish.”

She stops in front of him. Her robe slips another inch from one shoulder.

“And if I don’t wish?”

The corner of his mouth lifts.

“Then I am rather hoping you will enjoy yourself.”

Deia looks down at him. For a long moment, she says nothing. Then she reaches out and touches two fingers beneath his chin, lifting his face a fraction higher. His eyes darken at the small command, though he does not move otherwise. That is another thing she loves. How much power he can hold still. How much restraint lives in him, waiting, polished bright and sharp from years of use.

“You have been thinking about this,” she says.

Gale exhales through his nose, caught.

“A little.”

“Liar.”

“A moderate amount.”

“Gale.”

“A disgraceful amount,” he admits, and the honesty in it is so immediate, so warm beneath the wickedness, that something low in her belly tightens.

Deia smiles.

“There he is.”

That undoing thing happens to his face. The one she still does not think he knows about. As if some part of him, even now, after everything, cannot quite believe she wants the hidden edges too. The arrogance, the appetite, the cleverness turned indulgent. The man who does not only worship, but wants.

____________________________

Read the rest on Ao3.

Tagging according to my Tag List post and private agreements. If you want to be on a Tag List, interact with this post or let me know in some other way. If you want to be removed, let me know too.