#learnedlucidity

@learnedlucidity asked: [ 1. ] sender steps between receiver and an aggressive stranger, voice low and steady: " walk. away. "

As her mother spoke to another, Fox wandered. Seeking out somewhere quiet within the chamber to disappear into. When she found an alcove near the window, she paused before it. Looking out at the vastness of the land she had never seen. Almost not noticing the other woman who seemed to have the same idea as she. "Oh, forgive me, I had not realized anyone was there," she bowed her head. "--May I join you?"

"I have many," he replies, seemingly void of sarcasm or regret. There's a story there, or rather there are many, though he isn't forthcoming. As for her first question, he supposes his honesty is warranted, along with the incredible display of his ego; "And she incurred my wrath by leaving me."

It wasn’t unusual– in fact, it was pretty common, he’s heard it throughout his entire life. New York was a melting pot of people from all backgrounds, escaping their small towns for a bustling city. Especially recently, with families fleeing the war tearing through their home countries. “Yeah? My parents did that. Indiana– Ma says there weren't much more than five hundred people in their old town. Just a bunch’a corn.” He smiled, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the shelf of books he was previously wiping down. The air in the old pawn shop was always stale and dusty, but he was happy to take a weekend shift for some extra cash. Besides, his boss liked that Bucky got along with customers– just as much as Bucky liked getting to know them. “So, what’s your story then? Where are you from?”

     He’s about to turn to grab his own mug when bare legs cage him between her thighs, his gaze curious as a playful smile curls the edges of his lips. His hands, warm from holding her mug press to the outside of her legs, sliding from knee and along her thighs when she pulls him in close. Her arms are gentle around him, guiding him to her shoulder where he rests his head, cheek against skin and nose pressed into the crook of her neck breathing her in. The height of the counter helps but Gabriel still has to hunch just slightly to stay fully pressed against her, his hands smoothing up further slipping under the material of her night shirt to caress soft, warm skin. Fi smells of warm, spicy notes with hints of vanilla in them. Like chai and something smoky, something richer and bolder like magic as he inhales lungful after lungful of her scent. But its her words that make his fingers tighten on either side of her body, just a fraction, but he knows she can feel it in the way his shoulders tighten, in the way his fingertips stop their careful circling along her waist. Everything but his heart stills and there’s an ache in his chest when she says it, but he can’t be mad at her, they were both so young and hurt, so broken back then.

     He relaxes against her, lips pressing a ghost of kiss against the side of her neck before he finally pulls back and slides his hands out from under her shirt, one hand tucking stray strands of hair behind her ear while the other curls under her chin. Gabriel doesn’t say anything for the longest time, the weight of his words don’t feel right on his tongue, nothing sounds right so he does the next best thing. Gabriel leans in and kisses her. It’s soft, so soft he’s not quite sure if their lips are even touching but he can taste the faint hint of her toothpaste, the warmth of her lips, of her breath against his mouth as he slowly presses in closer to her. “I love you too,” he says quietly, no title following the admission, no rush to get the words out as he kisses her again, “I have always loved you Raphaella, even when I was gone I never stopped thinking of you.”

     Their lips part but he stays close, pressing their foreheads together as their breath mingles, hands framing her face while he holds her cheeks, thumbs brushing along the soft, warm skin. “I told you didn’t I, when I came back? This is a clean slate, what happened in the past is in the past. We both hurt each other, we both did things that looking back, we wished we hadn’t. But I never once regretted loving you, not as my Mistress and not as you as you are right now, just Fi.” Gabriel pulls back and smiles, warm brown hues filled with nothing but affection and adoration for this small witch in front of him. “Drink your coffee before it gets cold,” he says, using his powers to bring his own floating toward him, quick to take a sip of the overly sweetened liquid and he grins. “The day is still young Mistress, there is still so much trouble we can get up to.”