#crystaliize

M'firhi's been aware of G'raha's losing battle with consciousness for quite some time, now. He'd seen it yesterday, the bags under his eyes, the yawns he would try to hide even when no one was looking.

He was neglecting sleep. A bad habit the two miqo'te seem to share, unfortunately.

The question had been, how to help?

He'd settled on a conundrum that had been haunting him for a while now. A tablet he had found in an Allegan ruin that he'd been slowly translating himself for the last few years.

From what he'd deciphered so far, it was a ledger of some sort. It was something he turned to when he needed to bore himself to sleep, so why wouldn't it work the same for G'raha?

And work it had - though he's unsure if it was the work itself or the fact that he'd gotten the other miqo'te to actually sit down for more than a few minutes.

Either way, M'firhi isn't complaining. He simply shifts - slowly and carefully so as not to arouse his companion - to get him more comfortable and goes back to reading the notes he's made.

Running errands for Rowena was hardly the most /glamourous/ thing they could be doing, but G'raha found he didn't mind. The idle chatter with Aisling made it less of a chore and more of just a nice day out. And as they stood, waiting for Redolant Rose to return with the package Rowena had ordered, his hand slipped out to grab hers, squeezing lightly and without thought.

It’s something of a reprieve, something that Aisling won’t allow herself to grow too comfortable in even though reasonably she knows that they’ll have some time before the next big adventure. Still, smiles come more easily now than they did before the F I R S T,  mulberry stained lips twist into that half-smile without hesitance and stick.

Aisling freezes for a moment when she feels G’raha’s hand takes ahold of hers, but only for a moment and then she squeezes back.  Leaning down, she presses her lips against his temple—a brief peck—before she stands straight again. If there’s a remnant of her lipstick on his skin, well, it wouldn’t be unexpected. 

“I know this is hardly exciting and probably what you weren’t thinking of when we spoke of adventures, but it’s nice to have some time with you all to myself.” 

Without the other scions’ eyes on them, though Aisling hardly minded—the scions are family after all, but sometimes, it was nice to just be able to have some moments that consisted of solely them.  

“No.” M’firhi shakes his head and sighs. “They’ve got... similar dispositions, I suppose, but imps are Voidsent.”

And far more harmful than the fae, in his opinion. While most fae look only to cause mischief, and repay like with like, imps... are awful. Not to discredit the power the fae have, but they are less likely to cause intentional harm just for the sake of it.