* S O L LEROUX

Sol makes it feel easy to have that much faith in the future, that much faith in what is possible. They had woken from so much pain, from horrors that they never could have imagined experiencing, and they had seen him, and he had looked at them, and told them that they had a future. He makes everything feel possible, even if they do not know quite how to make it all happen. Because the universe may have had these plans for them both all along, but they would not have happened if he were not himself, if Sol had not fought through so much, too, if he had not been able to find hope in the pain, enough to be able to spread it to them, too. So they do have faith in themselves together, because already he has shown them more than they ever expected to find again, a future that had seemed impossible. And they feel like they are learning more about their own sight, too, sitting here with him, hearing about his own experiences, how they are the same, how they differ, the core of it all so familiar it makes their heart ache to know that they have found someone who understands it all so fully.

There have been several instances in their life where they have been with someone and known almost immediately that the person was meant to be in their life, like a puzzle piece slotting into place as soon as they were breathing the same air. All of these instances have felt wholly unique, special in their own ways, but somehow still none have seemed to touch what it feels to sit with Sol, to hold his hand and talk with him. It feels right, it feels like this is where they are both supposed to be just now, that they were supposed to find each other when they did, and not a moment sooner or later. And they are glad that they are sharing this time with Sol now, because it feels like everything that has happened in the past two and a half years prepared them to fit perfectly in this space with him. Their change in career had brought them more openness and honesty, meeting Hadrian had brought them a softness they had not realized they were allowed to take and give freely before, and all of the pain, it had made them realize how important the good is. This is just how it should be. And his little smile, shy and teasing, the way he calls them darling makes them agree. “Da, I would like that. We can learn together. Perhaps later I can show you my tea leaves,” Eden says, giving his hand another squeeze.

There is something warm and awe inspiring in the air, as the realization hits. They’ve seen him, and he’s seen them, and here they are now, together. “The universe knows what it is doing, it seems. The sun. Your volcano,” they repeat, voice soft. They consider telling him why exactly he had seen them as a volcano, why those words send a pleasant chill down their spine, hearing him say that he liked his volcano, after leaving behind Volkan for Eden a decade and a half ago, out of fear. Sol makes it sound like something not to fear, but to love. My volcano he says, and he touches their cheek so gently, and warmth seems to radiate from the spot where his knuckles graze. The volcano, for both of them, had been something explosive, violent in their visions, but Sol is right, too, that it had meant something big was coming. For both of them. It seems now, looking back, that Sol had seen it not to prevent it––no, they were always going to end up a volcano, one way or another, it seems––but to prepare him for finding them. Prepare him for something big. And he is right, the universe did not disappoint. If this pain is what it took them to finally be able to see and be seen so wholly, they cannot fault the universe for its ways, when it’s given them so much in return.

They look at him, smile softly at him, looking over his face, taking in every little detail. He is so beautiful, and he’s here. His hand is still in theirs, and the air feels warm and soft. The space feels like home in a way that is new, a little thrilling. And they think about leaning forward, kissing him, tasting the sparkling cider on his tongue, maybe, doing just what they had been considering for a while, now, what they had nearly done at the club, before the interruption. It feels like the right time, to do it, in this private space, talking about so much that is theirs, understanding each other wholly. They’re thinking about it, wondering if it’s something he still wants, too, wondering if he wouldn’t mind if they moved a hand to his waist, felt the soft silk of his beautiful midnight blue shirt, or moved a hand to his neck, let their thumb brush over that tattoo again. Before they move, though, they feel the brush of something against their finger, where their hand is intertwined with Sol’s, and they glance down, and oh, it’s his ring. A little butterfly, the wings flapping. “Your ring,” they say, a little laugh in their voice as they grin back at him softly. “It reminds me of the butterflies in our dream.”

.

He thinks about his dreams. The repeated image of the Volcano, what it meant when it finally blew up, when all the world rushed in and the hot rush of lava rushed out. It was Eden. It was a dark omen as much as it was a promise, pain that would be followed by something wonderful, suffering that would clear away until a gift had been left in its place. It still shakes him to know that while he was dreaming about Eden, Eden was seeing him in turn. He existed in their mind before he had any right to be there, before they had really met, before they had decided he would be something important. He’s been considering the fate of it all, and they’ve both spoken about the universe wanting them to know each other, but the fact that they’ve both seen each other in visions is more proof still of it all. The sun. A volcano. The two of them together, with heat and warmth and care. He hums, softly, at the thought of it all. “The universe had to know what it was doing at some point, I suppose.” He says.

He means it to smoothe over the soft weight in the air, the sensation of there being more to the story that he doesn’t know yet. But that feeling is kind of exciting too –– the idea that they always had moreto share with each other, that their connection wasn’t done growing. Sol wanted to know each and every thing about Eden, wanted to know them down to their core, the heart of every atom in their body and in their mind. He wanted to know Eden like a well-loved book, to know every twist and every turn and to cherish every word that spilled from their pages. But he wanted to discover them slowly, too. He wanted to take his time with them, cherish it, savor the experience of getting to know them and revealing the most intimate parts of himself in turn. They were two conflicting instincts, but they were both powerful, tugging him in different directions so that he never knew if he was going to hold back or push for more. He almost wants to push, to ask why Eden seems so heavy about it sometimes, what the signifigance of the volcano was deep in their heart. He almost wants to push, but he feels like its worth taking his time, he feels like he can be patient here.

After all, they have all the time in the world. 

Sol feels even better about the decision when Eden smiles at him, that lovely smile, that perfect smile. It makes him feel bright and warm, happy and full of so much potential that it almost hurts. There’s a twinkle of potential in their eye, a distant want, and Sol feels the butterflies errupt in his stomach, feels the low and casual pull of a wanting in his gut. Half excitement, half anticipation, all so good that it makes him feel bright and warm. He doesn’t even notice the gentle flapping of the butterfly wings in reality, not until Eden points them out. He spares a glance down to watch them, to feel them move, and a startled laugh slips out of him, his smile growing softer. Oh. Well, that cleared things up even more than anything else could. 

Eden was thinking about kissing him. It made him feel flushed, made him feel even more excited. Made him feel wanted. He glances back up at Eden, and knows that his smile has turned to something teasing in it now. “We’re not dreamin’ this time.” He says, and arches an eyebrow as he considers it. He had wanted to kiss them then, as well. Had wanted to press close and feel the warmth of their lips against his own. Had wanted it in a dream, had wanted it in the club. But he’d wanted it to be different, as well. Something perfect and private, something real.

Looking at Sol, listening to him talk, it feels like seeing another version of themself, in a way. There are difference, of course, and they think that as they learn more of those differences, they will only like him all the more for them, but they have also never met someone who seems to be such a reflection of so much that they have felt before. They feel parallel in a way, like the world has been waiting for this moment, where those two lines would finally cross, and they would meet here, in just the right place, at just the right time. Because it all just feels so simple and easy, sitting here in the living room with him, talking about things they’ve never been able to talk about in such depth, with so much understanding reflected back at them, because Sol knows how all of it feels, he’s felt it all, too. 

This is something they want to hold onto, something they want to get used to, if Sol will allow them the privilege. Sitting here in their living room, with each other, Kosmos nearby, everything feeling so warm and right. It is all just so incredibly comfortable, like this isn’t the first time they’ve been here together, but the hundredth, warm in its familiarity. And that makes it all the more astonishing, they think, knowing that it’s not the hundredth time, but only the first that he’s been here in their home, making it feel so much more like that word just from his energy filling up the space. But then, maybe it is not so much a surprise, when from the first moment they had seen him, they had felt like they knew him already, and he knew them; when their meeting in their dreams had felt like seeing an old friend, well loved, and comfortable. “Perhaps we can figure out a way to guarantee more dreams like that, between the two of us. I think we may be able to find each other anywhere in the universe, waking or asleep, if we tried,” they say, voice soft, full of fondness, because they genuinely do think that’s true. They are certain that all this time, the universe was leading them to each other in one way or another.

This gift of theirs has brought both of them so much pain, but it has also brought them this, and from what they can tell, it is one of the most beautiful things that they have ever been given, seeing someone so wholly, and being seen so wholly in turn. Being understood and accepted on a level that only someone who knows the future as intimately as them could. They are more certain than they have ever been, with Sol sitting here, that both of them have more good on the horizon. They set their glass down for a moment, so they can reach over and take one of Sol’s hands, intertwine their fingers, squeeze gently, grateful. And it fills them with warms, their palms pressed together, the way his hand fits so perfectly in theirs. “There has been too much pain for both of us, but I think you are right, Sol, I think there is a lot of beauty on the horizon. And I think perhaps we might both find better understanding of the futures we hold in our minds, together. You have a lot to teach me, zaichik,” Eden says, with a nod.

He looks rather adorable as they tease, and they like the way he wrinkles his nose a little, the smile he gives. “I am glad I can tide you over until you find five others. I hope they will be willing to share your time, though,” they tease a little, but they mean the words. Now that he is here, they do not think they could let go. He is too bright, and warm, it feels so much like stepping outside and breathing in the fresh air, feeling the sun’s rays on their face, to bask in his presence. The sun’s rays. Sol. Eden lets out a little astonished laugh, despite themself, as the realization hits, looking back at him in awe. They do not know how they had not realized immediately, once they learned his name, how it took so long to realize. “I have seen you,” they breathe, smiling back at him. “I have seen you before, in my visions. The sun’s rays warming my face, offering comfort in the darkest moments. Twice, I have seen it. The sun. You. Sol. I do not know how I did not realize sooner. Moyo solntse. It was a much nicer vision than your volcano and me.”

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It isn’t difficult to believe Eden when they say it –– when they offer a belief that they can find each other anywhere in the universe, in the waking world and inside their own dreams. They say it with such an easy fondness, with something earnest behind the words, as if they really do believe it. It’s a nice idea, that they could continue their night time meetings and settle in to that perfect space once again, that they are so connected they could make it happen whenever they wished. Sol isn’t sure that’s how it worked, but he would do anything to find them like that again, to settle in to the warmth and capture that peace inside their joined dreams. He would find a softness there that couldn’t be compared to anything else, he would find the best rest he could ever hope for. “So much faith,” He says, soft, with a smile. “But I think I believe you, when you say it like that.” 

And Eden keeps looking at him, so softly, as if they feel the exact same way that he does. This connection, whatever it is, is mutual. They both know how powerful it is, the both feel the pull deep inside them that wants them to be together, in the same space, breathing the same air. Sol feels that sense of rightness, something clicking in to place, when Eden reaches out and takes his hand. Their own hand is bigger than his, and they seem so strong and so sure, it makes Sol want them more than he already did. Their palms and fingers fit so nicely against his own, as if they were made to hold each other, as if they were made to touch each other. He tries not to be a romantic like that, to believe that someone could be made for another person, but Eden makes it hard to ignore that instinct. It just feels right. It feels proper, like something he should chase after. He almost loses track of what Eden is saying, but his smile turns even more gentle, because he believes it to be true. They tell him that they might understand the world and the future better when they are with each other, and Sol lets out a soft breath, almost a laugh. 

“You probably have a lot to teach me too,” He allows, voice slow and soft, as he gives their hand a soft squeeze in return, as he enjoys the warmth of Eden’s hand pressed against his own. He never wants to let go, he never wants to pull away. “We can teach each other, how about that?” And its a nice idea. He likes the concept of coming here again and again and again, learning everything about how their gift works, about how they see the future through their own personal modes amd means. Their different vantage points might show them different things, but together the world might become a clearer place, might become something more beautiful and easier to control. Sol has never wanted to know his own future, not when it so often gave him bad omens and terrifying visions of his own untimely death. But he wants to see more of Eden’s, suddenly. Wants to tell them of every happiness that’s coming for them, to describe the long and happy life that Sol is sure they will lead. He lets out a soft huff of a laugh, when Eden replies to his own teasing, and gives them a shyer smile. “You’ll always be my favourite, don’t you worry, darlin.” 

He watches as something changes on their face, just a little. A moment of realisation. And their words stop Sol in his tracks, almost. Something amazed and soft unfurls in his stomach, something that makes him feel special. Eden, seeing him in their visions. Seeing him as the warmth of the sun, as a comfort that came to him in the darkest of times. He lets out the softest of breaths, and looks back at them with the warm awe that must be evident in his face. “You saw me.” He says, and he sounds baffled at the concept of it, sounds warm and amazed and so soft that it almost aches. “I’m the sun. Well...” He shakes his head, because he doesn’t know what to say, because it seems far too gentle and far more kind than anything the universe has shown him about himself. “Hey,” he teases, instead of admitting again how cruel the universe can be to him. “I liked my volcano. I knew it meant something big was coming.” He reaches up, grazing his knuckles against Eden’s cheek, just for a second. “And the universe didn’t disappoint.” 

It sounds from Maureen like this drop dead gorgeous tour guide—probably the other one mentioned in their case file—is exactly who they should talk to, seeing as they’re pretty sure this sea monster is just one big hoax to draw in tourists and yadda yadda the rest of what she said, but they won’t tell Maureen as much. In all likelihood, from the evidence she’s gathered herself, there really did use to be a real sea monster, here, and it’s being capitalized upon now by this “enterprising businessman” for publicity. But they think back to what Sol said, about the way some people needed something a little bit magic to believe in, and it feels cruel to try to persuade Maureen that there never was a sea monster at all. After all, being a part of a local legend, something that hasn’t shown up in years and years and years, it’s not like it’s hurting anyone. It was only when no-majs started to get pictures and videos of something more clearly a sea monster than whatever was out in their ocean right now that things became dangerous.

Because if videos started to spread of a real sea monster, people would come after it, try to capture it, desperate for proof or profit or both. Maureen doesn’t seem to need proof or profit, just her stories and the place she loves so much. They hope, once they solve this and get rid of the hoax, she’ll still have her stories, and maybe her home will go back to being the little quiet haven it had been before. 

      “Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to steer clear if we see any super hot tour guides,” they say, giving her a smile. She seems a little smitten with said tour guide, from the look on her face, and they get the impression it’s a disagreement the two of them have had more than once before. “Happen to know where she hangs around, so we can make sure to avoid her?”

     “Other than that, I guess all that’s left is to try to get a better look at it for ourselves,” they say, half to her and half to Sol—they’ll certainly talk to the other tour guide, but they shouldn’t say that in front of Maureen. “See if we can get a picture of this thing for our article. Like I said, we tried to get a room at that hotel so we could use their beach, but they said they’re booked up for weeks. Any tips for how to get a good look at the thing, without being able to use their beach? You know anything about the owner?” 

Sol is a little amused by this all, still. Maureen is kind of the perfect character for this place, bright and warm and a little bit hilarious, wonderful to talk to, a great wealth of information which was exactly what they needed at a time like this. One of his eyebrows arches at the mention of the tour guide, and the amusement only grows. There was something going on there, that was for sure. Maureen brightens at the mention of her, despite the words that she says, despite the clear disagreement between them about what this sea monster means for South Padre Island. 

“Oh, she’s always out there on the streets, trying to trap poor innocent tourists.” Maureen rolls her eyes, but again the fondness bleeds through. She seems to be responding well to them, to Sol and to Marleigh, far better than anyone back at the hotel had done if Sol excluded that poor guy from the beach who let them in in the first place. It was nice to run in to someone who genuinely cared so much about this community, who genuinely believed in magic and monsters and wanted to share that with the rest of the world, wanted to immortalize it for everyone to see, for everyone to take a look at. The history of this beast, of this town, was laid out before them here, and it was all because Maureen felt passionate about it, all because she believed in something with her whole heart. That was the kind of person Sol always wanted to be, always wanted to surround himself with.

If this had been an ordinary day, he would have wanted to be her friend. He would want to take her for coffee and talk about all the wonderful things that existed out there in the world. He wished he could tell her that even if this particular sighting was a hoax, that magic in general was still real, that the world was still a wild and wonderful place in so many different ways. 

“I don’t think there are many ways to get around that little blockade they have down there.” She says, with a disappointed sigh. And then she looks a little bit more thoughtful. “He’s not a local, that’s for sure. Kind of weird? But he stays out of peoples ways, for the most part. But, hey, actually. You could try get out in a boat, maybe, and take a look at our girl from the water? Might be dangerous, but if you’re a thrill seeker...” 

“We’ll look in to that.” Sol says, bright and warm. They probably won’t, they probably won’t have to, at least not until they look around a little more. Sol would like to talk to this tour guide, would like to finally get a look at the man who owned the hotel. They seemed like missing pieces that would make the picture so much clearer. “Listen, thank you so much for your help. We really appreciate it, taking the time to talk to us about all this.” 

“Oh, it’s really no bother. It was kind of a treat for me, more than anything else.” Maureen says, patting the display case fondly. “I hope that you catch a break, with this article of yours.”

They shift a little, and after a few moments Sol feels ready to get back out there in to the sun, to explore what else this town has to show them before the end of their case. They give Maureen a wave as they head toward the door, a little grin. “See you around, maybe.” He says, and she beams back at them both.

The night already feels unlike any they have had before, which is a thought that nearly takes their breath from them, because it is so seemingly ordinary. But listening to Sol talk, having him sitting here close to them on their couch, with Kosmos lying down on the floor at their feet, it all feels so warm, and magical. it feels just like the dream, where they had sat under the stars together, talking to each other as if they had known all their lives, but a dozen times stronger, somehow, all enveloping in its beauty because this time it is reality, they are both awake and they are both here, together. And to know that he understands them so wholly, can see them so clearly, and they can see him so clearly, too, it makes it all feel the more meaningful.They listen closely as he starts telling the story of his own Sight, how it comes to him, what works best to try to focus it. They cannot imagine what it would be like for their prophecies to come mostly in their dreams. It feels so beyond their control already, not knowing until a moment’s notice when the universe is suddenly going to use them as a vessel to convey the future, but to not even have his rest be his own, and to also have to worry about waking moments, too, it makes their heart ache for him. 

They frown slightly as he talks about the inconvenience of the prophecies, something they know well themself. “That cannot be easy, to have your rest taken from you by the future, too. I wish that I could give you more dreams like the one we shared, safe and wholly yours. I am sorry that you have to know that feeling of losing control so well. But it is a comfort to know you understand,” they say, giving him a soft, understanding smile. They wish they could give him peace, because they know intimately well how the future can plague your thoughts, can consume you. It is not easy to deal with it alone. But they are here now, and they are not going to let Sol deal with it alone, any longer, because they understand, they know what it’s like. He explains the pendant, and the tattoo, and they find themself fascinated, looking at both in gentle awe. He is lightyears beyond them in his understanding of his own gift, and it is inspiring, it makes them want to try, too, especially knowing that their own Sight had changed, with their injury. They reach out and very gently run their fingers over the tattoo that Sol points out, the one to help make his visions clearer. “Your tattoos are beautiful, powerful. I know how difficult it is to accept it all. I regret how long it took me to accept it.”

The similarities are striking to them, to know that he too experiences certain levels to his prophecies. They have never known if that was normal or not, or if there was even a normal for seers. “It is interesting to know that is how your visions are, that they can take over at a moment’s notice, too. That is how mine are, as well. I have always thought of them as small prophecies, and big prophecies. They did not teach Divination at Koldovstoretz, so I do not know if there is a proper term for these levels of visions, but mine are much the same. The small ones are a gentle push, and I can remember the details, they are something I can even call forth, with the right focus; I used those for years to win cases in court, to free people who I believed were victims of the broken system we work within. The big ones, they––ah, what is the saying––hit like a freight train, da? I rarely remember them. But they are always bad, from what I have been told. I saw what happened in Nashville in a big prophecy. I saw the terrible future that made me run to America in one.”

The pain their shared skill has caused both of them is heavy, and will likely never easy completely, but it does not feel hard to talk about with Sol. It all feels comfortable, and good, like this is exactly where the universe wants both of them. Eden smiles back at him as he clinks their glasses together, and they take a sip. “So do I. In fact, before you, I have never spoken with another who fully understands what it is like to have the future forced on them. It means a great deal to have you here. Not to be cliche, but I think the universe wanted us to find each other,” they grin, a little teasing, but they mean it.

.

Sol doesn’t really know how Eden does it, how they manage to make simply listening feel so powerful, how they manage to make it so easy to talk about all of this stuff that has weighed so heavily on Sol for all of his life. He doesn’t understand how they can feel like this already, so utterly connected now, when this is only like the third real conversation that they’ve ever had. It just feels good, it just feels right, and Sol feels settled here in a way that he rarely does. It feels like he was made to sit on Eden’s couch and talk too much, to let the words flow out of him with no way of stopping them, high on that thrill of getting to talk to someone who really understands him, who really understands how it all feels. Eden frowns in just the right places, says just the right things, because they feel it all just the same way that Sol does. Because they’re kindred spirits, because they’ve suffered in identically different ways. 

Eden smiles in just the right places too, and Sol can’t help smiling back at them, warm and bright. “I’d like that.” He says, with a breath. Because he would. Their dream had been the best one Sol has had in years, had been perfect and peaceful and the best nights sleep he could imagine for himself. If he could meet Eden every night in that in-between space, he would be happy. They wouldn’t evem have to talk to him. They could just sit and look up at the stars that they imagined for themselves, they could just sit there and feel warm together, feel the buzz of connection. “More dreams like that.” And he finds himself shivering just a little when Eden reaches out and skims fingers over that tattoo, the little line of markings that anchor him in his dreams. He wonders if the tattoo had helped them in building that space together, if it had made it easier to spend that night with Eden in his sleep. 

He just feels a little breathless with all the ways they’re alike –– even if so much of their lives are different from each other, even if they grew up in different ways and surrounded by different places, even if their visions came in different forms. Some of those experiences were just so universal, were just something that could tie you together no matter what. His heart aches a little bit, when Eden tells him that it took a long time to accept their own visions. His heart aches as he imagines Eden working with the small visions, trying to help people who they believed had been victims of an injust system. That’s kind of dreamy, Sol thinks. Kind of beautiful. They’re kind of a beautiful person. “Small and big.” He says, kind of thoughtful. “That’s the best way I’ve heard of putting it.” And with a small sigh, he gives Eden a gentle look, something warm and caring that stretches out between them. “I’m sorry you had to see all that.” He says, after a moment. Because he is. Because he wishes that their visions would give them something softer, something kinder thna the pain. “Even if you don’t quite remember it when it happens. I’m sorry you had to see it at all. Nashville, everything else.” Sol shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. “But if It helps, I don’t think the future is all bad. You have good things on the horizon, Eden Blue. They’re just waiting for you to come take them.” 

It is a beautiful thing to watch Sol look around their apartment. Despite the friends that they have found here on the Central Squad, and the friends they still have left from their time before, they have not actually had many people over to their apartment. Hadrian, of course, but even then those visits were not nearly as frequent as their own visits to Hadrian’s apartment; even so, though, their apartment always feels so much warmer with Hadrian inside, and it had felt magical then, too, to see them looking around it for the first time. This is a little different, though. It feels like Sol stepping into their space, looking around, so clearly relaxed and comfortable, it feels like it’s suddenly much more of a home than it ever really has been before. They do love their apartment, but it gets lonely. Kosmos was helping to fix that, especially now, after so much, when the thought of turning off all the lights, when they are already living in half darkness now, and trying to sleep without anyone by their side makes their chest feel tight, panic threatening to come up. And they think that Sol is the other piece here, they think that he was meant to come in at just this moment, and make it all feel whole.

They’re already thinking about having Sol over again, and again, and he hasn’t even been here for five minutes. But they have been longing for quiet moments with Sol where they can have that same open honesty they had had in the dream, and in the hospital room, even in the club, but to a different extent. It feels as if things are finally beginning to settle into a new version of normal, even if the pain lingers and will for a long time, and they want their new normal to feature Sol heavily, they want him to know that. They want to pull every secret from him lips, and then maybe kiss them, too, if that’s something Sol still wants tonight. The air feels heavy with promises, but in such a pleasant way, like a warm hug, like the hug they had given Sol. It makes them even more excited to see what comes from tonight. It makes them even more excited for the future they now know they are allowed to look towards, because of Sol.

Eden follows just behind Sol as he looks around, and moves to the couch, Kosmos at their feet, always near, always ready to offer his own comfort and strength. They cannot stop the smile on their lips, even as they sit down on the couch next to him, and Kosmos finds at spot at their feet. They want to be close, want to shift so that their legs are pressed together, so that they might wrap an arm around him, but the night is young, and there is so much for them. Like his first question. They are thrilled to be able to speak with someone who understands, who has Sight, too, when they’ve never been able to. They want to know everything about Sol’s Sight, learn from him. “I get more from tarot and tea leaves, than crystal ball, but it is more for the energy that I feel if someone else is holding those things first in a reading, concentrating on the future they want to see. My solo attempts to use those aids, well, I think they would be more successful if I tried now that my Inner Eye has been open forcibly. It has only been recent that my Sight has become public knowledge; I kept it hidden for three decades, until an unexpected prophecy took over in the middle of a meeting, two years ago, and outed me,” they admit, with a little shrug. They try not to hold onto the shame for that, but it is hard. “What about you, zaichik, do you use any aids for your Sight in waking?”

They lean over and take the bottle, opening it, and pouring both of them a glass of the sparkling cider, before handing one to Sol with a warm smile. “It is no extra effort, I wanted to do this for you. You will find that cooking, and caring for someone is one of my favorite ways to show my affection, so you best get used to it,” they nod, putting the bottle back down.

.

Sol has to stop and wonder for a second, if he will always feel a spark of something thrilling when he learns something about Eden, when another peice of the puzzle clicks in to place. He doesn’t think it will stop. He can’t imagine the sensation of getting to know Eden being anything other than amazing, groundbreaking. With every moment it feels like he can see Eden clearer, like he can look into the past and see them there too, the way they move and the tools they use to look into the future. Eden with a crystal ball, Eden brewing endless cups of tea in the hopes that it will reveal the necessary truths. And it’s a thrill to be talking about it at all, talking about the sight with someone who understands it as intimately as Sol does, with someone who its hurt as much as its helped. Most people don’t understand, not really. They can’t even imagine what it feels like to have the future pumped into your mind, even when you didn’t want it there, even when you would rather not see it. Eden knew how much pain the sight could cause, and Eden had kept it hidden for so long. For decades. For longer than Sol has even been alive. It didn’t even let them have that much, didn’t let them have their secrets. It came to them during the worst possible moment, so that they couldn’t deny it.

It was simmilar to what had happened to Sol, too, so long ago. He had clearly been older when his sight made itself known, but it had been a dramatic entrance to his life. It had knocked him off his feet, quite literally. “Not so many crystal balls in my life.” He says, with a slightly thoughtful tone to his voice. “And I like tarot cards, but I don’t think I actually get more from them than anybody else could. My sight doesn’t help much, with that. It likes my dreams the best.” A small smile, at that, a little shiver at the thought. He’s had some good dreams lately, but for most of his life the nightmares that bore the future inside them were unpleasent things. Even when they had been good, they had left Sol shaking with fear, with the idea that his sleep did not belong to him and would never be a restful thing, would never give him what he wanted, would never offer him any real peace from the waking world. “I only have real prophecies when I’m asleep. It’s kind of inconvenient, but I always remember it, more or less. Give or take a few hazy details. My mom got me this pendant? I would set it working when I went to sleep and it would record my voice when I started talking in my sleep. But I think the charms on it started to fade, so it’s just a necklace right now.”  

He shrugs his shoulders, and considers it more. What helped him? What did he use to make his gifts more powerful. He smiles a little wider, and tilts his head to run a finger over the little line of tattoos behind his ear, so that Eden can see the finely detailed little symbols that rest there. “I gave myself these, though. To focus the visions. Make them clearer, once I finally accepted that they were part of me. Which...was a hard thing to accept, for a long time.” He glances at Eden again, and his eyes are soft things. He feels like he might be talking too much, like he might be saying too much. But he’s caught up in the thrill of someone else being here, someone else really understanding him. He’s thrilled with the concept of sharing these things with Eden, with sharing his life with Eden. It’s a wonderful thing, after all. To be known. To be seen. For someone to listen to you when you speak, to genuinely want to hear your story. “Mine hit me like yours did, that day it outed you. I had my first vision in class, when I was at school. I have...it’s like, there are different levels? Most of my visions wait until I go to sleep on my own? They’re slow, and they’re patient, and they don’t mind lingering on the edges until I fall asleep. But there are ruder ones, more impatient. They don’t wait, they just...knock me out, so that they can come into the light. It wasn’t a very pleasent way to find out I could see the future.” 

As they had suspected, Sol fits perfectly in their arms, just the right height to fit against them. They do not want to let go, it feels so nice to hug him after wanting that sort of close, gentle contact since they had seen him in the dream. They feel safe, holding onto him, and like they could easily keep him safe, too, chase nightmares away by the warmth alone. But they want to look at him, so they do let go, for now, resolving to hug him as much as he might let them, from now, now that they’re finally getting a chance at something a little more normal. And it is a treat to look at him, gorgeous as ever in the midnight blue shirt that hangs open just right, soft as he is. Sol’s smile is as bright as the sun, and makes them feel just as warm. It is clear that he is just as happy to be here as they are to have him, and that makes them feel both warmed and a little bit thrilled.

“I am the cheapest date, zaichik. You never need to worry around me, all I ever need is the pleasure of your company,” they grin, as they watch him laugh, kneel down to greet Kosmos. And that is a sight they want to commit to memory. Kosmos immediately seems to love Sol, and vice versa. The way that he talks to him makes their heart soar a little, and it all just feels so right, and easy, like he is meant to be just here, this is one of the things the universe always had planned for them. They like how Sol looks here in their apartment, petting Kosmos. It feels a lot like both of them have been here for a lot longer than either of them have, for how well they slot in, how easy it feels to have them here, now.

They reach down and give Kosmos a fond scratch behind the ears, as Sol gets up, smiling at them. They grin back, easy and warm, and they can tell already that their face is going to be sore from smiling so much with Sol here. “Good, I do not know what I would do if you did not love him as much as I do. But I am not surprised, you said it yourself, I have impeccable taste. It is why you are both here, after all,” Eden grins, teasing. But it is the truth; they are grateful for Kosmos, and for Sol, for two new bright spots in their life, here now together. They cannot wait to see what the night holds in store, just how Sol fits into every spot of their apartment.

“Spasibo, Sol, that is very kind of you to say. I know it is not to everyone’s tastes, but I grew up on utility, it brings me comfort, in its own way. Once a Soviet, always a Soviet,” they say with a little laugh, gesturing for him to follow them into the living room. It is minimalist, but they like the muted colors and clean lines of everything they’ve chosen, perfectly matched. They’ve set everything they made out on the coffee table, with plates and glasses, and the bottle of sparkling cider. It feels more comfortable, in the living room, the right place for them to talk about anything and everything. “You will not find my crystal balls sitting out, I am afraid to say. They did not match my design vision.”

.

Sol shouldn’t be surprised by how soft and warm he feels here, how safe and comfortable he already is as he stands in Eden’s space. In their apartment, slightly utaltiarian and still so warm. It feels like them, as if every inch of it has soaked up their spirit and their warmth, as become perfect just because it has been in close proximity to them for however long. Kosmos is soft and bright too, as if he was made to be here, as if they were made to be together. Sol feels at home instantly, in a way that should be strange but isn’t. Eden has always felt like home, after all, has always felt like something important and undeniable, like something that Sol needed to hold on to. 

He feels charmed and wooed somehow, by the way that Eden has clearly prepared for him, for this night that they’re supposed to spend together, the talk that they promised each other when they danced at the club. It had been all Sol thought of since they made the plan, all he had wanted to do was be close to them again, to wrap himself up in the same space as Eden. He wants them, he’s wanted them since the first time that he saw them in Scotland, when the universe had seemed to spark and catch fire in subtle yet undeniable ways. Eden has put care in to this, with food laid out and...sparkling cider, and it’s all so sweet that Sol almost aches with it. It makes Sol want to kiss them, but there willl be time for that later, when they’ve done all the talking that they wanted to do, when they’ve grown to know each other even more than they feel that they already do.  

He lets out a soft laugh, glances back at Eden, and smiles. “Eh, it was the right call. They’d ruin the flow of the room.” And he moves then, clearly meant to sit on that couch next to the little table with all of Eden’s offerings laid out. He gets to glance around the room more when he moves to sit there, and he feels perfectly settled among the clean lines of Eden’s design, everything feels simple and clean and good here, unburdened with the past in a way that Sol wishes his own apartment was. Maybe he should move, but he doesn’t think he has the heart to do that yet either. But he feels soft and hopeful, because he’ll get to spend an evening here at the very least, enjoying the clean and perfect space that Eden is offering them. Sol takes a seat on the couch, and he can’t manage to dim his smile at all. It feels bright on his face, it feels like one of those things that’s going to ache after a little while. But it’s nice. It feels good to smile, it feels good to be here. “Do you get a lot out of that stuff? Cyrtsal balls and all the works? Or is it something you just break out for show?” 

Seeing Sol again, outside of the context of the office, is all that they’ve been able to think about since their night at Morgana’s Cellar. Their thoughts are wrapped up in Sol, in what it had felt like to be near him, to nearly kiss him. They had been disappointed, not the be able to kiss him that night, but now they are almost glad for it. They do not want to presume, no matter what their promises have been, but they hope for it, anyway, because the idea of being so close here, in the privacy of their apartment, in the warm intimacy of it, there is something magical about the very thought. It makes them think of their dream, of what it had felt like to sit together there, in the space of their minds, and have such intimate honesty so easily together. They had wanted to kiss him then, too, and hadn’t. Perhaps tonight could be the night.

Even if it is not, though, the look forward to everything else about it. To have Sol close again, yes, but also to be able to sit and talk, where they cannot be interrupted. They cannot wait to have him in their space, to see how he slots in here, because they know that it will somehow feel perfect with him here. They cannot wait to listen to him tell them every little thing about himself until they know him just as well as their own mind, so that they can care for him in the perfect ways.

They had started that by cleaning every inch of their already spotless apartment, making a few snacks and desserts in case, buying some sparkling cider for them to enjoy, then working on themself, taking a long, scalding hot shower, giving Kosmos a bath he truly did not even need, and dressing in something nice, but comfortable to them, tying a handkerchief around Kosmos’ neck. And at the perfect time, they hear the knock at the door, and their heart leaps in their chest, as they practically run to get it, Kosmos following right behind them, already such a good boy, a new comforting fixture in their life.

When they open the door, their breath is stolen at how beautiful Sol looks. A wide grin splits their lips, as he greets them, and they cannot help how they stare, they cannot keep themself from reaching forward and wrapping their arms around Sol at last, giving him a hug full of warmth and joy. It feels so nice to do it, after wanting to for a long bit, he fits right in their arms. “You have brought yourself, and this is enough for me. Welcome, zaichik,” they grin as they pull back and usher him inside, where Kosmos waits, wagging his tail. He comes forward to sniff at Sol’s legs. “Ah, this is my new roommate, who is a very, very good boy. Sol, this is Kosmos, Kosmos, Sol. I only got him a few days ago, to keep me company, but I love him dearly already.”

.

Eden smiles, as they look at him. A wide and happy grin, as if it’s a gift to have Sol on their doorstep. It feels like a gift. The universe has allowed them the privilage of finally finding each other, wading through the crowd of every other person on earth until they got to one another. Eden smiles, and the entire world feels better, feels brighter and safer. And Sol moves forward at almost the exact second that they do, amazed at the feeling of Eden’s arms wrapping around him, their strong arms and their warm body, the joy that it all holds. It curls up inside him, seems to spread out in happy little sparks. Ever since that dream, he has been longing to do something like this, to be held by Eden Blue. The touches at the club had felt so good, and he had known that something like this would be even better, a tease of almost full body contact, the promise of safety and warmth an dthe fact that they even want to do something like this with him. Hug him. Because they’re happy to see him. 

He lets out a soft laugh as they pull away. “You should have told me you were such a cheap date. I would have worried about it a lot less on the way over here.” He jokes, voice soft and bright as he smiles up at them again, with all the warmth that he’s always wanted to show them, ever since that first moment. He wants Eden to know that he feels happy, that he feels soft and full of joy just because he gets to be here, because he gets to step forward and walk into Eden’s apartment. 

He’s about to cast his eyes around, examine the space with a small and unique kind of curiosity. This is where Eden lives, after all. This is their space and their domain, the place that they built for themself when they came here, the place where they were supposed to be at their safest and most comfortable. It’s something that Sol has been longing to see, somehwere he has been longing to walk into. The most intimate place in Eden’s life. He fully intends to examine every single inch of the place, but he gets distacted by the dog. The dog, wagging his tail and coming forward to greet him. Sol lets out another soft laugh, something that he cannot hold back because he feels so damn bright and warm, because he feels genuinely happy to be here, that they have invited him in to this room. He crouches down without thinking, letting Kosmos sniff his hand before petting him, digging fingers into his fur and smiling at him. “Oh, hi, buddy. Hi Kosmos. Wow, you’re a real sweetie, aren’t ya? Eden picked the best doggie, yes they did. They have impeccable taste, don’t they buddy?”

Kosmos responds brightly to his words, wiggling into his touch and licking at his face. It makes Sol laugh again, and he stands back to to get away from the onslaught of affection. He smiles over at Eden, warm and bright. “I think I already love him too. He’s a real sweetheart, huh?” They ask, bright and soft, before they cast their eyes around the room. Minimalistic. Yet perfectly homey to his eyes. Perfectly Eden, at the very least. Sol feels soft and warm and at home here, with everything clean and in its proper place. “Hey, nice place. I like the whole minimalism thing.” 

Sol isn’t sure what to call this. What they’re doing tonight. It’s not a date. It’s not just a talk either. Everything that happens around Eden feels so much bigger and more important than it should, feels special in ways that Sol can’t even understand. Even earlier today, Sol hadn’t been quite sure what he should be expecting when he arrived at their door. Which was why he had probably put more of an effort in than he should have. Half an hour staring at every shirt that he owned, running fingers over the delicate fabric. He picks the midnight blue one, the silky thing that reminds him of the night sky in their dreams. If it hadn’t already been his favourite, it would have been just because of that connection. 

It’s silly, not to be sure. But Sol is just fighting to reduce the expectations that are building in his head. They’re going to talk, tonight. About all the things going on in their life, about that shared weight of visions. Every single other thing that had come along and made them in to who they were. Sol hopes they do more than talk, but he isn’t going to get his hopes up for it, just in case. 

But that doesn’t mean he didn’t put the effort in. That he’s not ready for it. That he didn’t want them to think that he was pretty or something, tonight. He hopes they think he’s pretty. He gets to their door, and he pulls in a breath, and he reaches out and he knocks, waiting in excited anticipation for Eden to come and let them in. It feels so vital and important already, being here. On the threshold of Eden’s home, at their door, waiting to see the world that they’ve built for themself within those four walls. He can feel the magic building already, he can feel Eden coming closer to the door, like the whole universe shifts around them and brings them both closer together.

He’s almost holding his breath, and he leans against the doorway. And then they open it, and he sees their face, and they smile at him. “Well, hey there.” They say, voice warm. Everything seems to sound a little bit warmer when he says it to Eden, when he’s looking at them. “I uh, brought absolutely nothin’, because I’m a terrible houseguest and if I stopped somewhere I was going to be late.” A shrug of his shoulder. “I’ll have to try and make that up to you, next time.” 

Saying it all out loud when they’re so close they can feel Sol’s heat, smell something sweet and a little sugary on him, maybe a cologne, maybe something else, it makes it all feel that much realer, and they cannot wait to follow through on everything they’ve said. The little kiss he presses to their cheek makes their skin feel warm in the spot, makes them acutely aware of how warm them are feeling. They can feel him smiling against their cheek, and that makes them grin, too, makes them want to kiss him even more than they already had, if that was possible. It feels like a promise, a promise that he wants the same things, and that they’ll have them. They’ve already made each other so many promises, perhaps it should feel strange, to offer promises of grand adventures, and soft futures to someone they’ve only met in person twice, but it feels so easy to promise Sol so much, because they want it all. They do not need to have known him for more than a few weeks to know that he is someone who is going to be in their life for a long, long time, in one way or another. Here now, though, the promises all just feel that much more important, and they feel only that much more certain that they’ll be able to keep all of them, that Sol will let them do so. 

And he says as much with a soft little laugh, so bright and warm. They haven’t stopped smiling since Sol caught their attention, and they do not think it will stop anytime soon. It feels impossible to frown around him here, and they are so grateful that they took the leap, and came out tonight for a few hours, despite their worry and discomfort. It was already promising to be a good night, but Sol makes it all perfect, even just being near him, touching his shoulder, leaning in close, feeling the electricity in the air around them both. When he pulls back, they’re still smiling, they let their hand linger on his shoulder as he takes his glass, eyes never leaving theirs as he drinks. And, God, they could keep looking at those beautiful eyes of his forever, dark and soft, full of all the warmth in the world. Full of a fondness that seems to be wholly for them, and it makes them feel important in the universe, makes them feel seen in a way that goes beyond just this, speaks to so much more.

“Very good place to begin,” they hum with a smile, as Sol takes their hand and leads them off towards the dance floor. It still feels jarring trying to navigate an unfamiliar space without both of their eyes, but Sol’s hand is firm and they feels safe holding onto him, like they would be happy to let him lead them anywhere he could want to go, as long as he kept holding their hand.They make it to the dance floor, carve out their own space in the crowd, and they keep hold of his hand, intertwines their fingers as they start to dance. It feels rather magical, the bright lights, the bass of the music, and Sol, this beautiful, meaningful man in front of him. And perhaps it is the alcohol, perhaps it is that they feel a little intoxicated on him, but they want to be close, need it. “I will lead, zaichik,” they hum, just loud enough for him to hear. Eden lets their hands move to Sol’s hips, pulls him a little closer so that their bodies are nearly touching, and it’s easy to move with him, fluid, they do not have to think, only feel, like their bodies are meant to be closer together like this, as if they’ve been in orbit for so long, without even knowing, and they are finally colliding in the most beautiful way. Nothing else matters with his hands on Sol’s hips, looking down at him. 

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to let their hand move to the small of his back, pressing a little closer. It’s easy to lean in so that they can put their lips to his ear. “I think I would like to keep you around for a while after this,” they whisper, and they mean it in so many ways, know that he’ll understand, because he knows them. Somehow he sees them and understands them so clearly, that they do not worry he will not understand what they’re saying in so few words. Pulling back slightly, as they guide him along with the music, pressing close, thinking about all of the things they want to do with him, things they hadn’t mentioned, but knew he wants too, they look down at him. They’re thinking about kissing him, they want desperately to kiss him, and they know they should wait, but patience has never been their strong suit. One of their hands moves to Sol’s cheek, fingers caressing gently, and they lean in, just enough to make the suggestion.

It’s a familiar feeling to take someone they like by the hand and lead them toward the dance floor. Sol had done this every night, once upon a time. Danced away the hours when he should have been asleep so that he wouldn’t have to face whatever the universe wanted him to see in his sleep. He doesn’t even remember the fast majority of those nights, too out of his mind with that dangerous mix of booze and exhaustion and whatever else had been running through his veins in the moment. Sol is glad, desperately, suddenly, that he’s going to remember this time. He never wants to forget a single second of time he spends with Eden, with their eyes and their smile and their hands on him. It’s too valuble to let it slide away into the realm of things that he won’t remember someday. He glances over his shoulders, just to look at Eden as they walk, just for a moment. To make sure that they’re okay, to make sure that he can lock this moment into his memory, so he can pull it out when he needs it most. He glances over his shoulder and he smiles, because he feels so full of happiness and potential that he just can’t hold it in, because he’s so glad that he can have this, that the universe decided to hand Eden to him at just the right moment. 

The thing about it is that everything feels so right. It feels like they’re supposed to be touching each other, it feels like they’re supposed to be here together. So Sol keeps smiling when they reach the dance floor, when they carve out that perfect little spot and start to dance. He’s danced with a lot of people, but he can tell that this time is going to be the one he always thinks back to, a year from now, ten years from now, he’ll remember these moments. Sol lets out a bright laugh at their words, and lets Eden lay hands on his hips, lets Eden pull him closer. “You lead.” He laughs. “Why am I not surprised.” A teasing little lilt to it, something light and a little bit airy as his own hands find the perfect spots on their body, just right. He thinks about making another little joke, telling Eden that they could lead him anywhere, but he just lets himself get a little lost in the music instead, in the way that they move together. It’s easy. It’s as natrual as breathing, its simpler than talking. He’s always loved to dance, and Eden being there with him, them touching him, makes it all so much better. It’s easy to get lost in it, the way that Eden holds him there, the way that they look at him.

The way that they look at him. The way that they lean in so close so that they can talk into Sol’s ear, as close as you have to lean to be heard in a place like this, if you insist on talking so quietly. Their lips are so close to Sol’s skin there, and it makes them shiver, the way that it feels like Eden could so easily crowd him in somewhere and do...something other than talking. The words that slip out make him shiver a little bit too, because yeah. He wants that too. He wants Eden to keep him around. He wants to keep them around. In any and every way that he can. He huffs out another breath, not quite a laugh. because it feels weighty in the air with the understanding of it. “You can,” He says, softly, just as quiet. “Promise.” And he means it when he says it, he means it when he makes the promise, because he wants to be there, he wants to be there whenever Eden wants him. 

They’re so close now, and it’s so warm between them. Not just the usual heat of the moment, of the crowded club, the warmth that comes with dancing. This is something special, something just for them. It feels like they can communicate without words, it feels like the understanding between them is something perfect. The kind of thing that comes naturally, that would take years and years to build with anyone else. They want to kiss him. They want to do so much with him, and it steals their breath away when they need it most. And Sol has wanted to kiss Eden all night, since the first moment that he laid eyes on them. He had wanted to kiss them inside that dream, as well. And he’s almost annoyed at the universe for putting them together in less than ideal situations, where kissing isn’t the thing they should be doing, when the time isn’t exactly right. And for this fleeting moment, Eden leans a little closer, an offer. And Sol wonders if there’s ever a right or wrong time to kiss someone. Why shouldn’t he just do it now? Take the leap? They would know it was special regardless, they would know what it meant. Sol trusted them to know that much. 

He’s leaning forward to, in a moment of breathless anticipation, still half hesitant. And they’re so close. He hasn’t quite answered the question of Eden’s movement, just prompted them to ask again, to maybe pull Sol in and seal the deal, or wait another moment so that Sol can work up the bravery he needs to push through the hesitation and kiss Eden like it’s the most important thing that’s ever happened. He thinks its really going to happen, but then –– “Sunshine!” A familiar voice, and Sol jolts away, see’s one of his old squad mates and flushes with heat. He feels annoyed, feels embarrassed, and they’re obviously drunk, taking hold of his arm and giving him a tug. “Come dance with me, Sunshine, we’ve missed you so much.” 

Sol spares a glance for Eden, looks up at their eyes and gets almost lost in them again. “I should ––” He says, disappointed already, and then tries the smile again. “I’ll come see you. Some night soon? For that talk.” 

They follow after Sol, looking through all the articles, at all the pictures. They’re pretty well versed in hoaxes and shit like that, but from what little evidence this place it has, it really does seem like there used to be a real sea monster around these parts, but that the thing they saw today definitely isn’t it. It feels like someone’s trying to take advantage of the local legend, almost definitely feels like a literal tourist trap, and as Sol talks about the hotel, it seems pretty obvious from Maureen’s reaction that there’s a connection to the hotel. The private beach, the regular sightings… it seemed specifically calculated to try to get people to want to stay at that brand new hotel.

Which points, of course, to Bradshaw, who they can’t get an audience with. Another circle back to the impossible. They can’t imagine with, if Bradshaw’s actually a wix, he’s busying himself with owning beachside no-maj resorts, but… to each their own or whatever. It could be it isn’t Bradshaw at all, it could just be that he’d hired someone to make it happen, not even knowing there was magic behind it at all. 

     “What do you know about that place? they ask, looking back at Maureen. “The hotel. Is it pretty popular? We tried to get a room, so we could see the monster from their private beach or whatever and they said they were all booked up.”

     “It didn’t used to be,” she says. “It’s so much more expensive than the rest of the hotels. We’re just a small beach town, you know? We’re not a resort town, really, and the place is a little over the top. But it’s seemed busier lately, so they must be doing something right.” She seems annoyed, as she says it, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess that a bunch of rich tourists who wanted a private beach weren’t exactly the type of people someone like Maureen, who had grown up here and clearly valued the town for a whole lot more than just the sun and the sand, might want around.  

Sol’s pretty sure that if they grew up here and some big annoying, extravagantly expensive hotel moved in and ruined the energy of the place, he’d be pretty damn annoyed too. The big expanse of it, with its private beach, in this small beach town. And now they were taking the towns history and twisting it to...what? Get publicity, probably, fill up all those beds that weren’t as popular as they could have been, fill up the rooms and sell seats.

Sol just didn’t get how they were going to solve this concretely right now, when they couldn’t even see the guy who owned the hotel, when Bradshaw was behind walls and employees. But they would do it, even if they didn’t do it right now, even if they didn’t do it today. It wasn’t like a plastic sea monster was going to expose all of wixen kind at the drop of a hat, this wasn’t a life and death case, wasn’t the kind of thing that they needed to rush through so they could stop a catastrophy. 

He smiles at Maureen, just a little bit, for the annoyed tone in her voice. As much as she might mildly dislike the hotel, she seems to be reacting well to Sol and Marleigh, though she does seem like the kind of person who would get along with anyone as long as they had the right attitude. “What do you think the rest of the locals think about your girl?” He asks, mildly curious now. “We know the tourists are bonkers for the sea monster, but what about everyone else?” 

They cannot help but think how nice their voices sound together. The accents clashing a little, so very different, and yet things that make them stand apart, here. They like talking to him, and listening to him. They want to hear more Russian in his accent, perhaps hear some Turkish in it, too. He makes that feel like a possibility, makes them feel as if they do not have to fear the thing that has made them themself, one of the things that they have always been convinced would lead them to the cruel future they had seen nearly thirty years ago for themself. Perhaps it is the alcohol in their system, perhaps it is the way he’s looking at them, the way this all feels even more magical than it had in their dreams, somehow, but it makes them want to give him so much truth and honesty, it makes them want to shed Eden and reclaim their given name, if only to hear him say it just once, to hear it sound like something soft and cared for, in that beautiful accent of his. “What a fine pair we make, lucky and cute,” they grin back at him, the smile soft. They can already tell their eye is going to ache, when the buzz fades, from all the grinning they’ve done at Sol, but they do not care. It is all worth it for him.

It would be simple to close the space between them now, but they’ve been so strong this whole time, they think that they can continue, perhaps, as long as they can tell him that they feel all of this, too, that they know that this is more than just one night, something in a club under neon lights. His skin is warm and they feel a little dizzy with the sensation of it all, like the air between them is full of promise, full of potential, the universe having set them both up for this for longer than perhaps either of them had realized. It is easy to get lost in this moment, being near him, feeling everything they had in that dream, everything they had in the hospital room, only too new heights, now, all of the desire and wanting mixed in with the emotions, with the honesty. And it is a beautiful thing, to feel so much for someone, only make them more certain that the future that Sol has seem for them will include him in some way, that he is part of their happiness.

Sol reaches up and brushes their hair back off of their face, and it sends a pleasant wave of warmth through them, the brief contact, and the breathless way he replies. They bite their lip as they look back at him, trying to temper their grin as he flirts back, assures them that they have not said too much. And in the verbal confirmation that he wants this too, even if not just tonight, they feel the desire redouble. He looks so beautiful under the neon lights, completely gorgeous and ethereal, golden and warm. It makes them want to wrap their arms around him and hold him close. Perhaps pick him up and carry him out of here, make sure he feels safe, and cared for, and happy, in all the ways that he deserves to. They want to see just how fast they can get his heart beating, when they can already feel his pulse moving faster under their fingertips lingering on his chest.

“Ah, that is a dangerous thing to say, Sol, you offer me too much freedom in my words, I may never be able to hold my tongue around you again. Perhaps I do have grand plans for you,” they hum, with a little playful grin on their lips. Eden takes a sip of their coke, and then leans forward, hand moving to Sol’s shoulder, lips closer to his ear. It’s all indulgent, and perhaps this is too much, but Sol has asked, Sol has given them permission, and they have never been one to take that for granted. “I would like to touch you, every part of you that you might let me, learn all of your tattoos and your scars with my fingers, see all of what makes you you. I would like to kiss you somewhere private, somewhere like our dreams, to know if you taste as sweet as you sound. And perhaps other things, too, zaichik. I would like you to come to my apartment, sometime, so that we could sit and talk about the universe, and I could perhaps make you dinner. Something Turkish, warm and full of care, like my mother used to make. But in our immediate future, I think I might like very much to dance with you, once you finish your coke.”

.

He thinks this might be really dangerous, this way he’s feeling in this exact moment. Because Eden bites their lip as they look at him, and Sol feels another spark of wanting, and Sol wants so badly to press close or to lean up on his tip toes and press their lips together. It seems like Eden can read him like a book, it seems like from the first moment that they met him in their dreams, they’ve known him more intimately than anyone before has managed so quickly. They were there together in the land of their subconsious, in a world where the stars painted them in golden light, in a world where the butterflies in his stomach could burst forward into the air around them, flutter fondly on their joined hands as if to make it clear that nothing made him feel happier than their touch. It had been so intimate, so sacred in it’s own specail way. A world ust for them. And they had both been worried, Sol thinks, that it wouldn’t feel the same. But it’s only more magical now, it’s only more intense when Eden looks at him. It feels like they’re correcting on a whole new level tonight, it feels like they’re promising each other endless things. 

It’s dangerous, because Eden says so too, because Sol isn’t entirely sure how he’s gonna keep resisting what’s going on between them, how long he’s gonna be able to stop himself from latching on to Eden and never letting go. He feels a little bit enraptured by the way that Eden smiles, by the way that Eden looks when they’re taking a drink, by the way it feels when Eden moves a little bit closer and puts a hand on his shoulder. It makes him shiver a little in anticipation, it makes him smile slow and hopeful and bright, becuase it’s kind of torturous to know that Eden is only going to talk to him, say what they want to do god knows when. It’s kind of torturous, but it’s good too. It’s exciting to know that Eden wants him, somehow, in all these different ways. Sol leans in to the touch, embraces it, enjoys the feeling of being closer to them. And Eden starts to lay it all out for him, starts to tell him what they want.

Sol doesn’t really know what he was expecting, but he almost has to hold his breath with the way it sets that fire in him. Because he wants to be touched, he wants Eden to do exactly what they say. He wants them to touch him, run those fingers over the most delicate parts of his skin, the tattoos and the scars. All that careful attention, directed at Sol. He wants to be kissed as well, that’s the thing that he’s been fighting all night, the gentle wish that he could lean up and kiss them. But they mirror his own thoughts back at him, the hope that when they do it they’ll be somewhere more gentle than here, somewhere softer and more private, as gentle and warm as a dream. It’s all so much softer than Sol could have hoped for, it all means so much mor ethan if Eden just wanted to have sex with him, if Eden wanted to pull him into a dark corner and kiss him until he lost his mind. That holds its own appeal, but Sol wants them to have something more special than that, Sol wants them to have something intimate and unrushed, wants to spend more time talking to Eden. He doesn’t want them to reduce them to just someone he could have fun with, because the idea of treating them as anything less than part of his soul is unthinkable in this very moment. 

He lets out a soft laugh, because he feels warmer and happier than he can ever remember, because Eden is too kind and too bright to be real. Sol can’t imagine how Eden ever thought that they wouldn’t have a happy future ahead of them, because they seem to be made of brightness. “I think a lot of that can be arranged for you,” He says, a little breathless with it, emboldened by hearing everything he ever wanted handed back to him, by the fact that it really seems like they’re on the same page. Sol feels bright and warm, and he moves before he can really think too much about it, he presses a quick kiss to Eden’s cheek, grinning in to it before he pulls back quickly and takes his glass, still smiling when he takes a drink, looking up at Eden with those bright fond eyes of his. And when he sets his glass down, he reaches out and takes Eden’s hand, starts to pull him toward the dance floor. “Especially the dancing. The dancing can be arranged right now.”

It is very easy to get lost in the sound of Sol’s voice. His accent is not something like what they have heard much of before. It it full of so much care, somehow, like each word is wrapping around them, giving them a big, warm hug, with a kiss on the head to send them off. They think they would like to listen to him all they can, hear how everything sounds in his voice, and to learn all that he is willing to offer them. “It is a good thing it is dark in here, I am blushing like mad. You make me sound like something so sweet, and soft. I hope that I may live up to that title. Cutest thing, honey,” they grin, voice soft, but teasing. “Your accent is just as cute as you are, how do you do this?” They think they are a bit enamored with how it all sounds coming from him. It makes them feel cared for, but it also makes them feel oddly seen, to know that he is looking at them, too, that he likes what he sees, not despite of everything, all the vulnerability and pain, but because of that, too, because it is all a part of them. They do not think their mind could stray from him if they tried, so fully caught in his orbit and content to stay there. 

The sliver of skin their fingers brush over is warm, and oh-so soft. It makes them want to lean forward and kiss just there, feel his pulse under their lips, see how they might be able to make it speed up. Sol moves closer, just ever so slightly, but they notice. They think that there is nothing about Sol they can’t see, so focused wholly on him, but also so attuned to him, as if every part of them shares a wavelength. Part of it, he thinks, is probably their shared skill, the way they both saw the universe stretching futures before them, even in different ways. This is not a connection they think they could have found with someone who did not have Sight, too, after all hadn’t that been an integral part of their first two encounters? No, the universe had brought them together, made sure they saw each other, and could See each other. All of the emotions between them feel heightened in such a beautiful way, because they know him somehow at his very core. They understand him, and he understands them down to the basest level, even without fully knowing each other. But they want to know, and they know the universe will let them, Sol will let them, because this is not something either of them can let go of.

His fingers ghost over his arm, and the touch sends a chill through their body, strong and full of desire. The way that he says his name promises so much more than just that, though, and they are already wrapped up in the idea of having it all. They want to know every part of him, learn his body, and see how it feels to have those soft fingers skim over every part of them, too. They want to kiss him deeply, and they want to kiss him gently. And they want to sit quietly together, tell each other quiet truths that cannot be spoken in a place like this. They want to know him like they know their own soul. Because, they think vaguely, that he hold a piece of it already, so easily, without either of them so much as trying. They smile softly back at him, and their fingers linger there on his chest, fingers just barely skimming his skin under the chain of his necklace.

“I would like that, if I am allowed to be a little selfish, moi sladkiy. I would like to keep you nearby to ground me, to take a break together whenever you say. There is much more that I would like, too, if you still want to keep me around, after tonight,” they hum, looking at him, head tilted just to the side. It’s a flirty thing, there is no denying that, but there is more beneath it, wanting him to know clearly that they mean that. They are certain that he knows it already, because they can see in his eyes just the way that they feel, the magnitude of it all, something so enormous, something that feels like fate wrapping its arms around them, pulling them tightly together. They are going to be in each other’s lives, each other’s dreams for a long, long time, and that thought is comforting. Eden has never felt so much comfort in the future as they do looking into Sol’s eyes, feeling his radiant warmth on their face. “Have I said too much?” Eden says, with a teasing self consciousness, exaggerated with their tipsiness. 

.

Eden blushing. He likes the idea of that, it’s someting that he’d like to see for himself, with his own two eyes. The flush spreading over their cheeks, the warmth blossoming in them just because of something that he said. Sol kind of wishes it wasn’t dark, so he could see if they were just joking around, or if they really are doing it because of him. And Sol could get lost in it, the feeling and the wonder and the magic of it all. He could get lost in the sound of Eden’s voice, saying those things, repeating the words back to him as if it was something important, though fond and slightly teasing at the same time. That’s okay. Eden can tease him all they want, Sol likes the sound of it. And he feels his own cheeks growing a little warm, surprised and fond himself, because Eden likes his voice. Eden likes the slow southern drawl that’s always there, that creeps in and gets more powerful every now and then. “It’s a natural gift.” He says, smile growing a little wider. “Bein’ this cute, not everyone can do it. But you’re lucky, you’re on a whole different level.” 

And Eden is touching him. Just barely. Just a fragile little brush of skin on skin, fingers against him. Now that, that makes him feel warm. That’s something that makes him wonder why he wanted to wait at all, why he wanted to hold off when he could be letting Eden touch him more. They could pull him closer, he thinks. They could kiss him, they could lay more solid hands on his waist and make him feel held and safe and a litany of other things that will probably only crop up in the momet. And Sol does think there’s going to be a moment. Maybe not tonight, but after, in a quieter world. Eden will make him feel all those things and more, because he’d really liek it if they could do that for him, if they could take him in hand and make him feel nothing but good and bright and special. They’re pretty damn good at that already, and Sol can only see them getting better with time, can only see this growing more intense and more intimate. 

Eden’s fingers stay at his chest, and Sol thinks that he can feel the hum of wanting more in the air. He thinks that they’re both longing for the same things, as always, as if the universe has been waiting to match them up together for a long time, as if it has just been asking them to patiently wait for each other and see what happens. Sol gets the destinct impression that Eden is going to blow his mind, when they actually take the leap of faith necessary to jump in to this, when they’re in the right place at the right time and the world is theirs for the taking. It makes his heart beat a little bit faster in his chest, and its the kind of thing he’s half worried about Eden feeling somehow, with the way that it seems like it could burst right out and into the air between them. Eden’s fingers, lingering there, as if unwilling to let go of the brief points of conact, where their fingers rest under the metal chain, no doubt warmed by being pressed against Sol’s skin all night. He looks up at Eden, and he feels lost for a moment, lost in the sensation of simply standing here together. 

And if he hadn’t been blushing before, he would be now. If he hadn’t already felt breathless, the next thing that Eden said would have knocked all the air out of his lungs. They’re flirting. In an obvious and undeniable way. It’s another promise, another reminder of the potential between them, the heat that could. build up at a moments notice. He lets out a little breathless laugh, at the sound of the almost-self consious warmth in Eden’s voice there at the end. They’re a little bit drunk, that much is clear, but Sol doesn’t see any harm in indulging the moment. “Not too much.” He says, a little breathless, and that’s embarrassing as well. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as too much, coming from you.” He reaches up, an excuse of brushing a strand of Eden’s hair back from their face again, though there’s really no reason to. “I think I could stand to hear more. You got some grand plans for me in our future, huh?”

His smile is so bright and warm, it feels a little like lying out in the sun on the perfect summer’s day, it calms them, and yet makes them feel a whole wealth of things that they can hardly even describe. His smile says that he feels what they feels, the magnitude of it, yes, every moment so big before them both, the future laid out, ready for them to take, but even just the pure want that lingers in the air. They want a lot of things, want to be selfish in the way that he had told them they are allowed, if only that they are selfish with him. And that sort of desire is not something they feel very often. Their want and need is wholly unselfish usually, the sort of thing they want to share, the sort of thing that would not hurt, if someone was not as interested as they were. But with Sol, they cannot imagine that. It feels a little like their soul itself would ache, if he did not look at them in this way, mirroring their own silent wants without word.

And the laugh that leaves his lips sends a wave of warmth through them, fond and whole, something that makes it easy to focus wholly on them, forget the world turning around them. They lean in a little as he speaks, with the illusion of needing to hear him better over the loud music, but mostly they just want to be closer to him. They want to reach out and touch his cheek, to let their hand fall down to his neck, fingers moves down to the sliver of his chest visible, beautiful and soft. His accent is so lovely, the sort of sound that they could get lost in easily, and they want to keep listening to him speak, tease, and they do listen, listen closely taking in every word as he goes on, explains his choice in drink, and it clicks into place. They should have known already, their dream had told them as much, after all, and that thought brings a gentle smile to their lips as they look at Sol.

“Ah, the sparkling grape juice, it makes sense now,” they smile softly back at him. They think there is more there, and they hope one day they might be in a quiet, private place together, where they can both tell each other everything, where it is only them and their trust, honesty coming easy, just as it had in the dreams. They can tell he is being honest now, even here, amongst the flashing lights and the thrumming bass, and that feels like a beautiful, bright thing to them, that he is so honest, that he can still be open after going through so much pain. That he’s still willing to trust. They want to make certain he knows that he is right to be so soft, and honest, that it is such a wonderful thing, and it makes Eden want to do the same, makes it feel easy, in a way it hasn’t in the past week. It had felt easy in the dream, easy in the hospital room, and somehow it feels just as easy here, now. 

When the bartender sets their drinks down, Sol takes one of them, and gives it to them, their hands touching just just a moment, fingers brushing, and the feeling, even so small, nearly takes their breath away. It makes them want to take more, but in a very different way than the familiar burning desire that they feel for him, too. No, that touch is electric, but wholly other. It reminds them of what it had felt like to touch him hand in the dream, only a dozen times stronger, fueled by all of the wonderful tension in the air between them, and the reality of the waking world.

“Oh, so you think I am cute? Spasibo, zaichik. I think you are very, very cute yourself. I actually think you are quite beautiful. It is hard for me to look at anyone else, when you are here, Sol,” they hum, and perhaps it is a little too much when they know that they are not going to take more than perhaps a few touches, maybe a kiss on the cheek, if they are feeling particularly indulgent. They want him to know how stunning he is, though, more than that, they want him to know that they think he is stunning. They want him to know that this is the beginning of their adventure, that they plan to keep him around, if he will let them, without saying it in so many words. They take a sip of their coke, but let their other hand reach out, ghost over one of the chains of his necklaces, as if adjusting it, more an excuse to touch, even lightly. “Da, da, you are right, I do need a break from it. You make it easy to remember myself, somehow, slow down for a moment.”

.

It’s a rush, the way that it seems like Eden hangs off of his every word. Eden listens to him more than some people do. Sometimes Sol feels like he’s talking at air, like people don’t really know what’s going on inside his head when he says the words that he says. He can see it in their eyes that they know there’s more to the story, that they’ll wait more patiently than anyone ever has to find out the dark and gritty parts of Sol’s life. It’s a dark and intense story, but Sol can guess that Eden has their fair share of that as well. Someday, soon maybe, Sol will tell them all of it. Sol will tell them about the twisting corners of pain, the fear and self-loathing and the way they couldn’t function without a drink, without a hit of something to get them out of their mind, without people who didn’t treat them as kindly as they deserve. He’ll tell Eden all of that, when they’re somewhere other than this, when the time is right and the world is quiet and its okay to be more vulnerable than they are right now. 

So he smiles back at them, so he lets it spread across his face, warm and easy. Because his dreams had his back. Because his dreams knew that he couldn’t taste a drop, couldn’t feel that burn, without diving off a deep end he didn’t want to be standing on. His dreams gave him something softer and sweeter to share with Eden, gave him sparkling sweetness to burst on his tongue that tasted like potential. It tasted like like the future. The dream had told them that they never had to sacrifiece for oene another, that their parts would fit together no matter what else happened between them. Eden would never judge them for whatever had gone on in his pants, they would never see Sol as something broken or less than.

Eden looks at him like he has potential, they look at Sol like he has potential. They look at Sol like the future lives within them, like it lives burrowed into their chest, like it’s a part of them. Eden thinks he’s cute. Eden thinks he’s beautiful. Sol has had people who said that to him before, but it’s never felt so real. It’s never felt so eanest. There have people who took advantage of him, in one of his many delicate states. People who used him in ways that he wouldn’t have wanted them to. He think’s he likes the way that Eden says it, though. He likes the way that Eden looks at him. It feels like a promise, somehow. It feels like Eden will be there, months from now, when Sol needs them the most. It feels like on a differnet night, Eden will kiss them stupid. It feels like its stupid to assume that, but somehow safe as well. Because Sol can’t taste the booze on Eden’s tongue, but he does long to taste Eden someday, under different light and with a different aura safe on their tongue. 

“Oh, you’re cute, alright.” They say, with a teasing smile spreading warm and hot over their cheeks. He feels soft and sure in the fact that neither of them will take too much tonight, but that doesn’t mena they can’t live in the hum of anticipation. That doesn’t mean Sol can’t long for it, even with everything else going on in his head. “You’re kind of the cutest thing I know. I can’t get over it, honey.” He says, more honest than the wry flirting tone should be. Because he really can’t get over Eden, he doesn’t think he ever will. They’ll be stuck in his mind no matter what else he does, no matter who else tries to talk to him. They’re his dream, and he doesn’t know how to forget that. He feels a little bit breathless, when their fingers touch the delicate chains around Sol’s neck. He feels anchored by it, as if Eden has taken them in hand, as if they’ll always know just what to do with Sol. He feels like the air has escaped him, even if the touch should be something innocent. It promises more, later on, and he moves just a fraction closer. He lets delicate fingers skim over Eden’s arm. “I’ll always remind you when you need a break.” He says, accent stronger than ever. “That’d be my pleasure, Eden.” 

They have a weird urge to reach out and hug him, as he recounts what he’s been feeling, sleeping and waking up. Marleigh had though they had a complex relationship with sleep but it turned out they just had a complex relationship with beds, especially ones that weren’t their own. Sol, on the other hand, who relied on sleep not just the way all of them did, to keep him moving, to keep him stable, but also to see things, all those perfect good futures he kept choosing to believe were the ones that would come true. Sleep should have been a comfort for him, but he’d spent weeks, months in a place where sleeping too deeply might mean he’d wake up dead. No wonder he looks so goddamn tired. No wonder he can’t figure out how to sleep in a bed again.

     “Well, if you wake up and think you’ll never get to meet me, just holler. Happy to provide a rude awakening in the form of a reminder that you’re stuck with me now,” they joke, nudging his shoulder back. 

It’s hard to say if it’s just exhaustion softening his edges or if every part of Sol is always this soft, but Marleigh doesn’t need to guess to know that it’s a hard-won softness. The kind they were working towards, all these people around them eroding away all those sharp, sharp edges they’d worked so hard to hone. They’d been a prickly teenager even before they ran away from home, had quickly hardened themself against the reality of the world once they were all alone in it, young and easy to take advantage of. It wasn’t armor, wasn’t something they’d put over their heart to keep it safe: no, it was the shape of the thing, bent into pointed angles and compressed until it was hard and sharp, and undoing that process had taken most of their life since then, little by little, step by step. They’ll never be as soft as Sol is, they wouldn’t know where to start, but they’ve got at least a couple of rounded edges these days, places where softness seeps in. 

They want to hug him, but it’s a weird position on the couch, not an easy thing to do, and there’s still a very sleepy dog in between the two of them that Marleigh would rather not disturb, so instead they drape their arm over his shoulder, hand at the back of his neck in a gesture that should feel weird but instead feels like a natural and easy kind of intimacy, that same strange familiarity they feel when they think about him. 

     “You can stay as long as you need,” they say. “Whenever you want, too, the offer doesn’t expire just because you decide you’re alright for a while and then realize later you might not be. Any time you need it, this excellent shitty couch is yours to get your less-than-comfortable sleep on.”

Sol feel strangely good letting himself be vulnerable. Its as if saying it is half the battle, accepting all the bullshit that’s going on in his head and realizing that he won’t be able to get rid of it with sheer force of will alone. He’s been trying so hard to get back into the swing of things, to put himself into his own past and recover the person he used to be. He always had trouble with sleep, but it had been so much better before everything had gone wrong over in Scotland. Now he felt like he had no control, like the world and his options were completely out of reach.

“Hm, you’re right. That does sound like a nightmare.” They reply, voice soft, a lightly joking tone that doesn’t have too many expectations wrapped up in it. “A while life stuck with Marleigh McMahon. However would I survive that?” 

In all honesty, he couldn’t really imagine a life without Marleigh anymore. He thinks they’ll always be the one he wants to go to, when he needs help or a gentle word, when he needs to feel the cool balm of pure connection. The spark of meeting someone who should have always been part of you. He doesn’t use the word soulmates lightly, but part of him thinks thats what they are, that they’re connected in ways not even the universe can really describe. It was a powerful concept, but it was something that he wanted to cling to, something that he didn’t want to let go. It would be true in his mind, even if he wasn’t sure exactly what soulmates are or how many he was allowed to have. He hoped it was dozens, because this felt amazing. But Marleigh would always be the first. Marleigh would always be the first spark that he felt, and they’d always be the first one that he thought of. 

He tucks himself close when Marleigh puts an arm around him, settles into their side as if they’ve been doing this for years, as if they’ve always been the typed to sit close and cuddle. He’s careful with Liv, settling him perfectly half on top of the both of them. He makes a soft sleepy sound, and smiles. 

It feels like they can breathe a little easier when Sol agrees to stay with them. The idea of sitting in silence with their thoughts, until Hadrian wakes and they can focus on making certain they are okay, is a terrifying prospect. They have never much liked silences. They had grown up in a full house, with a full head, and they had made certain that their life stayed full up all the way up until their Sight had tried to take that away by showing itself to everyone, but they had persisted. Now, though, the thought of silence alone feels even more daunting, not something they are ready to face just yet. They squeeze his hand, a soft smile of thanks on their lips. One day, when they are out of this hospital, out of this haze, they will give Sol back all of the comfort he has provided tenfold, give him strong arms, and a safe place to rest, fill the silences for him with gentle words, and all the kindness that he deserves. They silently make a promise to themself, and the universe to do just that.

The joke causes an amused breathe to escape their lips, and it makes their chest ache a little, but it’s a nice feeling, to be able to tease with him a little, even now. And they are inclined to believe it. He knows so much, they would guess they could learn a thing or two from him, when they have the chance to sit and talk of normal things, when they’re both ready to start life in the aftermath of all they’ve been through, as the world kept turning. They like the thought of that just as much as the thought of all the rest, to be able to sit with him, pick his brain, learn every little detail, and hear how he sees the world. They think that might be a bit revolutionary, just given how strong this feels now. Because to feel even more than they had felt with Sol in that dreamworld is an astonishing thing; it is just as beautiful, but the stark clarity of it in the waking world makes it feel more all encompassing in a new way. It does not feel like something they should be allowed, but then, perhaps this is the universe’s way of saying that Sol is right, and the future will be something bright, and beautiful, and happy.

He asks them if they want anything else, anything else he can do to help, and their thoughts race a bit. They want to see him in their dreams again, to claim that gentle safety that should feel so impossible after so much. They want him to stay by their side beyond this moment, perhaps sit here until they fall asleep again, or Hadrian wakes up, or even beyond that, if they are allowed to be a little selfish with their wants. More than any of that, though, they want him to be well, to have that gentleness, and that safety, and they want to help find a way to give that to him, that feels like something that might make them feel better. They settle for something simpler, though, for squeezing his hand, looking at him softly.“Nyet, this is all I could ask of you for now, being able to see you in the waking world, knowing that a future is possible. This helps more than I can possibly say, Sol,” they say, and their voice is quiet, serious but infinitely soft, because this feels important, it truly does mean more than they know how to describe. 

Holding his hand, looking at him, being here with him, it feels like they’ve been waiting for this for a long, long time without even realizing it. It compels them to go on.They do not consider it before they say it, just let their soul speak, honest, open, just as they had with him in that dreamworld, only it feels even bigger now in the waking world. They try to be honest always, try to be open and true with those around them, knowing how much pain comes from anything less than that for themself, but this feels deeper than even their usual state somehow. “Before we found each other in that dream, I was in another nightmare. A familiar one. It was the erupting volcano of our prophecies, and the huntsman, all of that pain that ended up finding Hadrian and I in waking, too,” they explain, looking at Sol thoughtfully. “But it felt safe with you in that dream after, like you would keep the nightmares away. And I wonder if it was the universe telling me this would come, that after the pain, I would wake, and see you, and know that I was safe, that kindness and gentleness was still possible, despite seeing so much cruelty. You have been through even more pain, and it is so hard to see how a softer future is possible, but I think the universe has something beautiful in store.”

.

He thinks that he’d do just about anything to help Eden feel better right now. He means it when he asks if Eden needs anything, because he’d do his best to supply whatever their hearts desire was. They deserve only gentle things, soft affection and people who will look out for their best interests. Sol knows that if it was him, if he was here and something terrible had just happened, and he couldn’t go home just yet, he’d want someone to sit with him for a while. He’d want someone to talk to him and show him that they cared. That’s why its easy to do it now, it perch carefully on the side of Eden’s bed and offer them the comfort that he would be so hungry for himself.

He’s relieved but not surprised when Eden asks him just to stay. He can understand that. Eden was on the path to healing, and that always felt easier when someone was beside you. Their body would recover, they would get their energy back and they would learn to live with everything that had changed. Sol was glad they wouldn’t have to do it alone, he was glad that they would have people  like Hadrian with them to keep them safe and chase the bad thoughts away. And Sol was glad that he was able to do that now. He squeezes their hand in return, a gentle motion, enjoying the feeling of it pressed against his own. Eden has bigger hands than them, strong ones. It gives Sol the distinct impression that Eden spends most of their time holding other people up, being something steady and dependable, being the one who does the caring. Sol hopes that they know they can be weak here, that Sol won’t judge them for the way that they’ve cried and the way that they cling to the possibility that the future holds. “Okay,” He says, with a small nod. “Just keep looking at me, then. I’m right here.

It seems so baffling that they could care about each other so strongly already. Their eyes have only met one other time before now, outside the realm of dreams. But destiny has always weighed on seers more heavily than everyone else, they’ve always been prone to feeling things more intensely than anyone could imagine. He cared for Eden before he had ever met them, before he had ever seen their eyes. He cared for Eden when they were just something scared, when they were just a creature that laid dormant, waiting to erupt into its full potential. The connection they felt only grew more powerful with every glance, only felt more and more intense as moments and days and seconds ticked by. He doesn’t think Eden is going to be something easy to let go of, not when they talk and such aching beauty comes out, not when they talk and Sol feels known and kindred and connected to such a powerful degree.

They run softer fingertips over the warm expanse of Eden’s cheek, softening himself at the mention of dreams. “I was in a nightmare too.” He confesses, with a soft exhale of a breath, as if it’s a relief to say so. “On and off. But it seemed like the world wanted to give us something good instead, a shelter from the storm.” Eden had felt like shelter, like comfort, like so much safety. It had felt like nothing could touch them there in the land of dreams, like no shadows could creep into the soft light of their shared experiences. There was no darkness between them, no fear and no dread when it came to one another. “I’m glad that it was as good an omen as it seemed.” He says, another soft breath, a small smile forming on his lips as he looks at them with gentle eyes, with all the warmth of the sun held inside his chest. “You can rest easy now, you know? I’ll chase the nightmares away if they try and come for you. I’m real brave and skilled like that, so you’ll be in pretty good hands. I’ll stay and make sure you’re both okay, both safe.”

There’s something so refreshing about working with Sol. He takes his time, getting from place to place, enjoying the sun; he stops off at a coffee shop to get some fruity iced smoothie, and Marleigh can’t blame him, because it’s not like they don’t have time to figure out what this sea monster hoax is all about—there’s no sense that whoever is going it is going to do anything more than just keep making a sea monster show up once every couple of days, and while whoever it is has technically broken the statute of secrecy by doing it, it isn’t like breaking it the same way over and over again really makes it any worse than just having done it the once, especially when it doesn’t seem like anyone’s in any real danger, just some weird stunt for attention.

Any no-maj who is gonna believe there’s a real sea monster already believes there are real sea monsters out there, sees that thing and has already decided beforehand that they believe in it. 

They drop back, letting Sol keep the lead here, following his energy. They’ve never been one to give a shit about distinctions like lead and assisting, really, but even if they had, the point feels moot with Sol, who feels like some weird mirror version of themself, all the same instincts, just two steps ahead of them. The let him knock on the door, let him introduce the two of them to a woman who must be the Maureen woman from their case file. 

      “The sea monster?” she says, and for a moment Marleigh thinks she’s about to tell them they’re crazy, there’s no such thing as sea monsters, which—she’d be wrong about, in the general sense, but right about in the specific case. But then she goes on: “That’s so funny, that’s actually exactly what I’m working on right now.”

     “It is?” they ask, raising an eyebrow, suddenly curious, but they can see what she means before she even answers: on the display behind her, glass cases in the middle of the floor, they can see the word THE MYSTERIOUS HISTORY OF THE SEA MONSTER OF SOUTH PADRE ISLAND in big letters, newspaper clippings organized neatly beneath it, lined up with some other things: a massive shark’s tooth, a few blurry photographs. She has one of the cases opened, where it looks like she’s in the middle of adding a few new items to the display.

     “It is! This year’s the one hundred year anniversary of the first sighting of the infamous Sea Monster of South Padre Island. It’s a local legend, been around for ages. My dad was a fisherman, when I was growing up, he always used to tell me stories about hearing the monster out at sea late at night. I used to think he was just saying it to scare me, but it felt like an important part of local history to chronicle, so I started working on this. And then, just a few weeks ago… what do you know? The monster shows back up, like it knew somehow that we were getting ready to celebrate it.” 

.

Sol can feel his spirits rising a little bit, as he watches Maureen react to his question. He can hear the low hum of excitement in her voice, even just at the start when she tells them that she’s working on the sea monster right now. The files had mentioned that she might be more receptive to the monster, that she might believe it more easily than the others would. Sol can see that this is an important story to her, connected to her life and to her past in ways that she can’t shake.

“A hundred years,” Sol says, with an arch of his eyebrow. “Well, wow. I had no idea this had been goin’ on for so long, round here.” A hundred years. That was a good enough reason for someone to resurrect the sea monster, to gain attention on its anniversary, as far as Sol was concerned. What would draw in crowds more than a local legend making a triumphant return? “Do you mind if we come in and take a look?” He asks, gesturing past her toward the display case she was working on. “We’d just love to hear more about it from an expert like yourself.” 

“Of course, you’re welcome to come in.” She says, stepping aside to let the two of them inside. “I’ve got articles about nearly every sighting here in our collection. It’s really fascinating stuff. I kind of feel like I’m living history at the minute, what with our beast being back with us again.” Sol moves up close to the display case, peering inside, and it’s all interesting stuff. His eyes are drawn first and foremost to the blurry pictures sitting inside, the sea monster nothing more than a vague shape in the waves. Sol could see it being a shark, like Marleigh had suggested before, or another hoax like the one they were dealing with today. Or, hey. Even back then, it could have been a real magical creature that accidentally found its way to the water near the island. 

Maureen points out an article in the top left of the case. “This right here is our first report of the old girl herself. It’s not actually from the first sighting, but it’s near enough to when we first started seeing her.” 

“Talk about history, alright.” He says, and then Sol takes a moment to scan through it. Nothing really stands out, except for the fact that it seemed like that sighting was on the other side of the island, not where they had seen it today. That isn’t weird, necessarily, but when he scans the next couple of news clippings they all have the beast showing up somewhere different, as if the old girl was lost or looking for something, exploring the coast. “We caught a glimpse of her today, out on the beach by that big ol’ hotel?” He says, sounding excitedly casual about it so as to match her energy. “Is that regular, do you think? Seemed a hell of a lot like everyone knew where to find it when it was gonna show up?”