#karsyn

The raven smiled at the woman he lay beside, grinning hard enough to cause an ache in both cheeks. She smiled back from the other side of the bed, propped up on her elbows with the sheet riding her lower back. Her brown hair fell in perfect waves. Perfect waves that he’d had knotted around his fist the night before.

Full lips parted to let a throaty giggle escape. “When my husband finally puts two and two together-”

Night cut her off with a booming laugh, eyebrows wagging at the thought. “Well let's hope he never does. Rhys is too good a Guardian for me to dismiss from the council without a proper vote.”

She rolled over onto her back, shameless against her nakedness. The raven growled, a playful sound that drew another chuckle from his partner, before rising to bury his face between her perfect-

The door to his bedroom swung open, and God lifted his face from the warm flesh of his companion to squint his eyes at the offending light that bled in. The brunette beside him jerked the sheets with a soft curse, turning her face away from the offender.

He thought her smart to do so until his eyes adjusted, and he met the gaze of the woman who stood there, still wearing a frozen smile like it was a mask that was slowly falling off.

-

Night shoved both feet into the legs of his pants, hopping in the light of the bedside lamp. They’d all stayed how they were for what felt like hours before she’d slowly closed the door behind her. But he’d heard her footsteps lead into the living room of his suite, not out the door with a slam.

She was waiting for him to join her. To confront him. 

So he’d pulled himself from the sheets and the busty brunette to snatch up last night’s jeans from their spot on the floor.

“Who was that?”

He couldn’t answer as he ripped open his dresser, fumbling around for a t-shirt. And even if he could, he wasn’t exactly sure how. Every word that came to mind was nothing more than a vapid lie he’d turned his back on when he’d sent her out of this house.

“Go home,” was all he left her with as he walked to the door, still jerking the long-sleeve thermal over his head.

He found her pacing in front of the fireplace, footfalls soundless on the white shag rug he’d had imported. Her hair was longer now, curled at the ends to just barely reach her hips. She’d grown taller, just by a few inches until the crown of her head reached his collar.

But it was her eyes that hit him like a physical blow. Those crystal blue hues pinned him, and Night felt his knees grow weak beneath their gaze. There was fire there, warmth and passion and rage so raw he could taste her fury in the air between them.

“What are you doing here?” The words left his lips before his senses could stop them. And like a match being struck, he saw the flames ignite behind her eyes.

Her lips curled back, and the mortal barred her teeth at God. “I came back for you.” Those words were thrown like bullets across the room, and he felt every one hit it’s mark. 

With a calm he didn’t feel, the raven slowly shook his head. Called to mind the very reasons he’d sent her away. “You shouldn’t have done that-”

“It’s us, Dy. It’s only ever been us.”

All those nights he’d laid awake, only entertaining his thoughts when the rest of the world slept. When she slept, just down the hall from him. The only person he wasn’t allowed to touch, and still the only fantasy he kept so hidden that only in the quiet hours of night would he entertain them. All the times he’d started to get up from his bed, going so far to place his feet on the floor, before stopping. “Karsyn, stop-”

He spotted it then, the slight tremble to her shoulders. The way her throat bobbed, as if emotion made it hard to swallow.  “I don’t care what they say, I don’t care what you say.” She was yelling now, nearly screaming her piece across the few feet that separated them. “It’s us- we’re the fantasy.”

“Karsyn.”

Her hand flew to her chest, laying over her heart. “I’m the hot-headed bitch who can’t shut up and you’re the asshole that doesn’t know how to be loved and I really don’t care about the ‘big picture’ thing outside of that.”

Silence from the raven, who could do nothing but watch as her hand flew out to gesture in his direction.

“You’re my two story house at the end of the cul-de-sac. You’re my two and a half kids. You’re my white picket fence, you bastard- don’t you get it?”

He stood there, watching as hot tears made tracks down her cheeks, red now from yelling. There was a tint to them, and when he looked closer he noticed the cosmetics she’d applied so subtly that he hadn’t spotted them before. 

She’d worn makeup for this. For him, for when he saw her again. 

“You’re my golden retriever we get for the kids but end up taking care of.”

Slowly, between heavy breaths, Karsyn lowered her hand. She glared up at him, seeing through his pretty face and power to the man underneath. “Because it’s us, Dy.” Her voice was softer now, as if she spoke the words for him and him alone. “It’s only ever been us for me. I’ve never known anything else in my life. And maybe that’s you, and maybe it’s not. But that whore in your bed isn’t your us. She isn’t your matching coffee mugs on the counter. She isn’t your slow morning wakeup kiss, or your dancing in the kitchen for no good reason, or even your favorite song on the radio.”

Night’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He stood there, staring at the woman across the room, and struggled to swallow through the pain in his chest.

She blinked, and more tears fell despite the fire blazing in her eyes. He felt the heat from it, wondered if he’d burn. She stood before him in all of her imperfections, all of her brokeness, but somehow still fighting with a passion he’d never seen in all the years he’d been alive. 

Passion for him. For them, their future. For what she wanted. He knew, in that moment, that this woman was not the girl he’d sent away. This woman, a mortal woman, faced God with war in her eyes and refused to be sent off ever again. 

And he wasn’t sure if that realization lit his eyes or not, but she took a breath, shaky as it was, before speaking again with a courage that eluded even him. 

“She’s not your us, and I know that because I am. I,” her brows knotted together, as if what he felt in his chest was burning in hers as well, “am your laughing together when the lights go out. I am your popcorn and movie in bed on a Thursday night. I am yours and you are mine, what part of that isn’t getting through your big, ugly, stupid, bastard-” A sob took her words, but he was already moving. 

Wrapping her in his arms, feeling her wet face soak the front of his shirt as she shook, it felt like all the things she’d just yelled. He felt the rightness in his soul, the one he’d damned the second he’d sent her away. 

And God buried his face in her neck, tightening his grip until he felt her small body calm down. Only once the sobbing had slowed to chopped, short breaths against his shoulder, did he speak. 

“You are,” he mumbled against her skin. The answer to a question he’d never asked, never really knew quite how to word. The humanity he’d felt slowly slipping away, as if he cared less and less each day she’d been gone. The home he’d been searching for, after this long journey through life. “You are.”

For all of her fearlessness, for all of the fierceness in her heart and the passion in her eyes, he was hers. 

Karsyn was shaking, losing the battle she waged within herself not to cry. “You can’t do this,” she whispered from behind grit teeth. “You can’t just send me away like I’m a.. Like a… You can’t just send me away-”

But God’s features didn’t give, and neither did his tone. “I can, and I am.” Cold, cruel. Just like those blue eyes that saw right through her, to the child she was. 

But she wasn’t cold, or cruel, or even calm. She was shaking, and she couldn’t stop. “Why?” She finally asked, voice breaking on the word. Those blue eyes found somewhere else to be at the sound. “Just tell me that. Tell me why.”

His arms crossed over his chest, straining the white button down left open at the collar. He always wore them when meeting with the guardians, when handling business.

That’s what he’s doing now, she realized. I’m business. He’s handling me.

“You owe me that,” she said a little louder when he didn’t respond. “You owe me the why. You stole me from my family-”

“Karsyn.”

“-ripped me away from my home-”

“Stop.”

“For what?” she asked, struggling to swallow around the lump growing in her throat. “To send me off when you’re bored with me? Am I toy, am I just your entertainment?”

She didn’t want to give in to the tears, not when he’d take it all back. Not when he’d apologize and tell her that she wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t taking away the only home she’d ever really known. She didn’t need to cry when he’d just sigh, and apologize for upsetting her. She didn’t-

“Yes.” The world dipped to the right, before completely dropping out from under her feet. “And now I’m bored.” He sounded like it, like he couldn’t wait to get back to something actually important. The way his eyes stared off, the complete lack of emotion in them.

That lump was getting harder to swallow around, her chest too tight to breathe all the way in. She felt her lips pull up at the ends, forming a smile she didn’t feel. Hot tears tracked down each cheek, but she couldn’t look away from that beautiful face. “You...” He didn’t even turn to her fully, as if she weren’t important enough to deserve his full attention. “You don’t mean that. You’re lying.”

There was a pause, and Karsyn felt the weight of it in her young bones. Bones too fragile, given her human nature. Funny, she’d never hated her DNA before now, never wanted power or elemental control. Never felt the need to want for strength outside of what she’d been given at birth.

Dyatose stared out the windows of the french doors, watching the night dance amongst the dark landscape. A rolled cigarette made the treck to his lips even as he heard a door down the hall open. Voices traveled into the office as they walked past the room, though he didn’t bother to focus enough to catch the words of old men talking about old business.

He was ashing into the tray when he heard the door’s hinges give way. Moments later, his brother took the large leather seat beside his. Soon, the voices, and their hosts, faded as they left.

“What are you doing in here?” The words were muttered shortly before Luce lit his own cigarette.

“Thinking.”

“Not used to the feeling?”

Despite himself, a grin curled his lips before Dyatose turned. They didn’t really share features, despite being born of the same raw power. A stark contrast to Dyatose’s black hair and vivid, blue hues, Lucien’s hair was short, a dusty blond with dark blue irises. His skin was darker by a few shades, despite rarely leaving his domain.

But, last he checked, there wasn’t much sunshine in Hell.

The raven nodded, giving a slight chuckle at the raised brows on his brother’s face. “Is it supposed to hurt this much?”

Lucien shrugged, the black button down across his chest tightening with the movement. “If it’s any consolation, I never expected you to be any good at it.”

Both men stopped as another voice filtered into the room. Soft, female, singing words to a song neither of them could hear. They watched as a tiny brunette strolled through the hall, passing the door to the office, completely oblivious as she sang Ingrid Michaelson’s Into You to the top of her lungs.

Dyatose’s lungs froze as he watched her pass, with her Skrillex t-shirt so long she’d had to roll up the sleeves, grey thigh high socks leaving just a strip of tanned skin before giving way to the boxers almost swallowed by her shirt. The headphones in both ears blasted away as she sang her heart out, pausing only for breath and a scoop of ice cream from the carton in one hand.

He didn’t breathe again until her voice had disappeared into one of the many rooms beyond. When he glanced back, Lucien’s penetrating gaze saw right through him to the truth he’d been hiding from even himself these last couple of months.

On a long breath out, he asked, “What do I do?”

The blond didn’t look away, let his cigarette ash on the wood floor between them as the question sank in. Then, with a careful tone, answered, “You know what you have to do.”

Lucien’s features didn’t break, even as the raven god laughed. A short, bitter sound that had him staring into the embers of his own smoke. “No, I don’t. I really don’t, not when it comes to her. I’m not… in my right mind. Not when it comes to her.”