✘ —; Wolf like tendencies, azure irises sharpened with the intent to kill and a scowl to match it glare over the crowd of men who spoke ill of his village and it’s countrymen. It was so easy for those who never saw war to speak freely of dead men and women. Rage coursed through his veins, bit down into his lower lip as if it would tame it but once the memories of his sister and mother came pouring in – he became blinded by his anger. Nyx stepped forward with every intent to make sure those filths could never speak again.
But, a gentle touch quelled the darkness of hate and snapped him from the trance it held him under. He had control once again but still, it wasn’t enough. The beast was a driving force and the glaive kept his eyes front – another step forward. This time, her touch was not as gentle but rather forceful. In a dark corner of the bar – he was subdued by a mere grab to the chin and a forceful gaze into the light of the moon. Shocked he stared into Luna’s eyes, which carried just as much weight of sorrow as he.
However, unlike him there was a glimmer of tenderness he locked away long ago. It was that which calmed him entirely. The long held breath was finally gingerly exhaled and his shoulders sunk into a comforting position. No longer was fire burning within his eyes but now he stared at her full of guilt and a mixture of love. He would blink and look away, shamefully as a sigh escaped his pale red lips.
“…I-I uh” He fumbled about his words. And again she gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. This time he saw exactly what she wanted him to –a reminder that she was here for him; that despite all of his loss, he gained something from this forsaken war; a light in the night sky – his moon. Her lips quivered as if she was too afraid to say something recklessly, a consideration no one has ever offered him here. With his appearance diminishing into a soft look of desire and affection, Nyx answered her silence with a kiss.
Gently, he boldly met his lips with hers and there in that dark corner, he embraced her. The hold upon his chin loosened and her body tensed. His fingers gripped both of her shoulders as to depict the level of longing that truly burned in his heart for her.
Luna understands the rage that Nyx feels constantly, the anger brimming just below the surface, ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation. For so many years, she has lived with a similar fire burning within her, kept restrained through willpower and years of learning how not to let it consume her, even if it would feel so wonderful to do so. Yet she also knows how dangerous it can be when unleashed at the wrong time, on the wrong person, in the wrong way, and this is not the time to see it done.
She sees the curl of his lip and the narrowing of his eyes, and she knows it is the beginning of losing a battle to his anger. How sweet it might be to give in, how she has dreamed of doing this very thing when the threat of it feels like it could break through her skin. But now isn’t the time or the people for it. Their world can be a vicious one, and it breaks her heart to hear people speak so cruelly of Nyx’s people, but losing himself now isn’t the answer. Luna rests her hand on his arm, and she thinks she feels him startle slightly, but his muscles remain tense, alert. Ready to kill.
Look at me, she thinks as she takes her hand from his arm and instead grasps his chin between her fingers, forcing his gaze away from the others in the bar and instead towards her. She doesn’t wish to shame him for his feelings; no, she wants him to feel them, to keep them, to know that, through them, he is alive and not insensitive to the world. She only wishes to calm him in this moment. Remind him that there are better places to spend his energy than here.
“Nyx, please don’t,” she says quietly, so quietly that none other but him can hear, and his gaze shifts away, eyes downcast as if embarrassed by his display, but no, there is no need for such shame. She makes him look at her again, if for no other reason than the small desperation to know that she doesn’t think less of him, she isn’t disappointed by his emotions. She understands where they come from and the desire to act on them.
He finally relaxes, his muscles giving way and releasing the tension built up in him, and when he leans in, arms encircling her and lips catching hers in a kiss, she, too, gives in, slipping her hand to settle behind his neck. Gone is the fire of rage, and now, here in his arms, in his hands enclosed around her, is a steadier kind of warmth. One she is growing familiar with.
“Let’s find somewhere else to be,” she says, wanting to get the both of them away from the hostile surroundings.
