#lightningofkharlan

Watching Yuan lift the water, Kratos hestitated for a moment. Hesitated because he knew that he was in part to blame for the exhaustion on Yuan’s face. He had worried him - and that was perhaps something of an understatement. He had prompted Yuan to willingly spend time in what barely passed as an excuse for a hospital, when it was quite clear that it struck a significant chord with him. He couldn’t be certain, because he couldn’t recall the worst of it, but he was quite sure that Yuan had been watching him during that time he was supposed to be sleeping.

So it perhaps was in poor taste to argue. The last time he had argued with Yuan around this subject, it had ended in this. He should simply be glad that his friend was willing to accept his assistance.

Kratos moved to assist.

Except...

@mithosofcruxis​ @lightning-of-kharlan​ Yggdrasill swept out of the room, but took none of Alvin’s tension with him.

Yuan.

Alvin still didn’t know how well Welgaia was bugged, whether mechanically, magically, or just by spying angels through peepholes. His thoughts raced as he automatically put on his gloves. 

No matter what, Yuan had to stay safe. Alvin had experienced what Yggdrasill could do to a mere mortal. To a fellow seraph, it didn’t bear thinking about. His friend --

No. Today Yuan was not his friend. Today the person he was about to speak to was someone who looked a hell of a lot like him and shared the same name. Alvin would misdirect and lie his ass off to him with no regrets, to protect the man who properly owned that name, and Leticia, and the Renegades. He planted that thought firmly at the front of his mind. He smoothed out his shirt and dragged a hand through his hair. For an excruciating two minutes, nothing happened. The angels waited patiently at his side.

She hesitates to approach Yuan at first, uncertain if he will even accept the notion that they could be friends. Like Regal’s crown, this one features fewer flowers, relying instead on variegated shades of green for visual effect. There are still some flowers woven in, tiny star like blossoms of blue and white, but the majority of the crown is green.

He had significantly more experience stitching wounds than stitching cloth, but the small pillow was neat and presentable. The pocket hidden in the patchwork pattern was almost indiscernible. Almost. Tucked inside was a neatly-folded piece of paper.

Martel,

I’m no wordsmith, and I never have been. I’m especially terrible at love letters, which is why I’ve never written you one, so bear with me.

All the words in the world couldn’t articulate how thankful I am to have you back in my life and how much I want you to stay with me forever. You always remind me that love is a choice, and you have chosen me–in spite of my many flaws.

Flaws that include a lack of a “proper” home, if I’m to be honest. It’s a house–we have a roof over our heads and a fire in our hearth, and that is much to be thankful for, I know. And the roof doesn’t leak anymore, and the door fits the frame better, the place doesn’t feel like it’ll blow away in a strong breeze. But I still have a lot of work to do on it. So, while I know it’s not really a traditional Valentine activity, consider this a formal offer for me to take you fabric shopping. Curtains, quilts–tablecloths and matching napkins, for all I care–whatever strikes your fancy to make and add to make home a little homier, we’ll get the material.

You are my earth and sky, my sun and moon, and now that I have you back in my life, I finally feel whole again.

With my love, forever,

Yuan

And how would he deliver her gift? By calling her name and (gently) throwing it at her, naturally.

Somewhere along the line throwing pillows at one another had become synonymous with ‘I love you.’ It was a silly gesture, but one that they could indulge in now that they were not constantly on the move. The number of throw pillows in their small dwelling was borderline absurd considering they only had one threadbare sofa to decorate, but there was a sentiment attached to them, even if it was a sentiment only the two of them understood.

This pillow was different and new, though she did not quite register the fact until she had caught it and run her fingers across the patchwork pattern, snagging on the slight protrusion of the paper. Curiosity forestalled her usual retaliation and she pulled the page out to smooth it flat rather than engaging Yuan in a pillow fight. A gentle smile tugged at her lips at the sight of Yuan’s handwriting, so familiar and yet so rarely addressed to her. Her smile only grew broader as she perused the contents of the letter. His sentiment mirrored hers completely, even if he had technically never left her life. She had simply been somewhere that they could not reach one another.

The lines on the paper were neat and precise, making it a very simple task to refold the letter and tuck it carefully back into the pocket. When it was safely returned to the pillow, she set it aside and scooted closer to Yuan, reaching for his hand to intertwine his fingers with his.

“Your offer is indeed far from traditional, but I think perhaps far more suiting to us than flowers.” They had flowers aplenty year round, with her continual pursuits of cultivating the area around their house and the new world tree both. “And while chocolate may bring fleeting joy, it seems far more prudent to make this house more like a home.” Home was not a place for her, and she doubted it ever had been a place for him either, but the world was different now. They would not be moving on in a few weeks, or even a few years.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, nestling herself against his side. There was always a faint dusting of pink on his face whenever he got sentimental with her, even after all this time.

Unable to meet Yuan’s gaze, Kratos continued to stare without seeing into the dark hills beyond.

“Mm. An excellent resource though they are, there are some things that are unfortunately beyond them. It... makes logical sense, Martel’s solution. Were it a standard poison perhaps the body could...”

Shaking his head, he swallowed. He’d been worrying his lip and now there was blood in his mouth. It seemed appropriate, a reminder of the truth inside that he hadn’t the courage to sit by and witness. But then, he’d witnessed it enough, hadn’t he?

He’d witness it again before too long.

He shivered again, even though if anything at all he was too warm rather than cold.

Raising an eyebrow, Kratos replied, “Oh? Are you searching for variety yourself, old friend?”

“Very well.”

With that, he unclipped his own shield and made to toss it like a frisbee in Yuan’s direction, to then placidly pass it to him instead.