#outis day

you glance up, the door creaking. a familiar sound, the push of one too tired to speak. Outis stumbles, collapsing beside you with a groan. pinching her brow, eyes narrowed with displeasure. you turn, setting your book down. extending a hand and carefully removing her glasses. the tension dissolves. her head tilts back to press against your shoulder. gently, you thumb over her cheek, pressing the shadows beneath her lashes.

"Long day?"

"Mm."

she merely shifts closer, tossing aside her suit jacket. it was unsalvageable, either way. 7 Association did not prioritize resistance to bloodstains in its uniforms. Outis sighs. leaning up and brushing a kiss over your cheek. warm and soft, a mimicry of gentle, familiar touches, her fingertips against yours when you exchange drinks in the morning.

"...Too good to me."

ah. she always did amuse you, saying things like that.

you dip down, pecking her forehead. tucking a strand of hair back, tracing over the twin earrings gleaming gold in the dim light.

it's strange. unfamiliar. waking up with someone at her side, after all this time. her hand snaps to her blade before stilling. calming. it's you. just you. Outis exhales. closing her eyes and rubbing her temples. the war has made her jumpier. more paranoid. she can see the indents in the blanket, where her arms were wrapped tightly around you. clinging, desperate. as if you'd disappear again, vanishing into the night. Outis shifts. leaning her head against yours. so many years it had been. since she left for that dreaded war, drowning in smoke and ash. yet you're here. curled up against her, mumbling softly in your sleep. so sweet. so beautiful. her fingers twitch, trying to pull you closer.

ah. her heart is melting. something cracks in her composure, and Outis presses her lips to your cheek.

she drinks in your startled, drowsy laughter with a subtle smile, peppering kisses over your face and nuzzling her nose against yours. a soft, tender gaze. the sun shining gold against her dark hair. you trace each scar, every new mark adorning her skin. you don't recognize them. yet they're precious all the same. a reminder of her suffering, your shared loneliness. Outis softens. leaning her cheek into your palm, fingers curling around your wrist. stay. please. such a long journey it's been, clawing her way back home, home to you.

you simply smile. kissing the bridge of her nose, bumping foreheads with her. just like you did, all those years ago.

"I love you, Odysseus." as if nothing ever changed.

she stares out into an field clouded with smoke. razed to the ground, gentle, swaying reeds nothing but ash. the air chokes her. the scent of burning blood and charred skin mingling, hot as fire. no. no. she left. it was over, she escaped. yet her fingers curl around her kopis. carved with every bullet, every life she took.

she did this. pulled the trigger. willingly watching the light fade from the opposing side.

"...Outis!"

her hands dig into the soot beneath her feet, searing against the scars littering her skin. searching desperately for something, anything, soil beneath the blackened earth. nothing. nothing, nothing. nothing but bones, cracked and stark white, crumbling in her hands. a bullet to the head. the ribs. the spine. a familiar pendant, tarnished and decaying.

it's your fault.

it's all your fault.

"Outis!"

Outis' eyes fly open as she lurches, chest heaving. her eyes dart around in the gloom- her quarters. neat, quiet. dusty at the edges. a hand gently squeezes her wrist, and her gaze lands on you, petrified.

"Bad dream?"

your voice is so soft. nothing like the screams, the sobs of pain from rotting bodies. Outis' head tilts. nodding. a drop of blood beading on her tongue between her teeth. the necklace she gave you glimmers at your throat, pristine and free of rust.

"...Very."

something she'd never admit, not to anyone but you. your arms wrap gently around her torso, and Outis shudders, melting into the embrace. the rigid posture of a soldier bleeds away, leaving her a pathetic, shaking mess.

perhaps she can afford to be broken. just for tonight.

her lips graze your cheek, light as a feather and twice as soft. she buries her face into the crook of your neck and exhales. allowing the tension to dissolve from her frame and pressing a secret into your skin.

"...I love you."

Outis strokes your hair, sitting at the edge of the mattress. a steaming cup of tea in her hand, set upon your nightstand. your favorite. only the best from your loyal butler. yet you don't want even that. shivering in sleep, sweat beading on your brow. sick, ill. wracked with fever and agony, chilled despite the heat burning your skin. Outis frowns, tucking the covers tighter around your shoulders. shielding you from the winter winds that seep through the cracks of the house. how many times had she been there, to catch you when you fell? cradling you far too softly for a simple staff member, soothing words dancing on her tongue. her hand brushes your forehead, and you unconsciously lean into the touch like a plant to the sun.

a flick of the wrist to adjust her monocle, reading quietly aloud from one of your favorite books. keeping you company, squeezing your hand from time to time. the others might complain. say that she's neglecting her duties. Outis knows the truth. knows that her duty is to you and you alone- not even duty. devotion. as deep and unfettered as the sea she had once sailed upon, the name she entrusts to only you. not Outis. Odysseus. your chief butler until the end. her gaze flickers to you as your muscles loosen beneath her fingers. a smile quirking at her lips. briefly. just barely there. she hesitates, before leaning in. brushing a soft, delicate kiss between your eyes, thumbing over your cheek and hastily retreating, heart thrumming in her chest.

it does not bite. does not drag you into the depths, to be consumed by its master. it merely clings. creaks and clicks in a disjointed symphony, clumsily plastering a fin against your cheek. stroking, soothing the skin peppered with goosebumps. you shudder, jaw coated in a murky, rotten film. eyes flicking down to meet the beast's gaze, amber hidden beneath a haze of muck, before staring back out at the ocean. it watches you with something desperate, yearning. vying tearfully for your attention, scratching at its wordless throat with bloody claws, hints of olive buried by pale growth.

Look. Look at me. Please. Witness me.

not long now. surely. perhaps a few more days. weeks. years. it'll be nothing from the outside. nothing to you, drinking tea in that little house. her house. your house. that's right. you're waiting for her. even if it's only a day to you. the most wonderful day, for her. walking through that door and removing her gloves, hanging her hat from the wall. finally smiling through bandaged wounds and scars.

"I'm home."

soon. soon. one day.

blood splatters over her hand once more.

a conundrum, truly. gnawing in her head, scratching, clawing- how someone like her, accomplished and proud, could be reduced to this. a nervous wreck, stumbling over her words and refusing to meet your gaze. finally a moment alone, with you, and she could barely speak. foolish, foolish- Odysseus glanced away before hastily pushing something into your hands. a single olive branch. adorned with leaves and fragrant blossoms; soft, sweet. she mumbled, too quiet to hear, cheeks warm to the touch, then cleared her throat.

"...For you."

you blinked. traced the woodgrain with a fingertip. slowly, your lips twitched into a brilliant smile, and her shoulders slumped with relief. you liked it. you liked it. her gift, chosen from her favorite tree in that little patch of sun. she straightened. grinned back at you, taking your hand and pressing a light, careful kiss to the knuckles.

"It's yours."

and hers. for you gifted it back a few weeks later, perfectly pressed and preserved. tucking it in her shirt pocket and caressing her cheek with a fond gleam in your eyes.

"Take it when you have to leave, and remember me."

ah, her heart stuttered, swelling with warmth. a kiss right there, beneath the dusky sky. her arms wrapped around your waist as she laughed, joyfully. tearfully.

Outis hums. twirling the dried branch between two fingers. it's fragile, now. old and brittle, chipped at the edges. yet she can still smell that sweetness, the distant scent of blooming flowers and the mint that always clung to you. she brings it to her nose, inhaling gently and allowing her eyes to slip shut. filling with unseen, unshed tears.

the others give her questioning looks- she simply turns away. let them question. asking why she keeps a dead stick around, something old and withered and delicate. her lips press gingerly against a leaf, the sunset beyond the bus windows glinting off her earrings.

"Wait for me..."

she thumbs over a flower, the same adorning the inside cover of her pocket watch.

she tries to ignore it. staring straight ahead, fingers curling against her legs. an aching, stabbing pain in her skull; a bird chipping away relentlessly to feast on her brain. her eye twitches. blinking hard, once. unable to imagine how much alcohol that Mirror Self had swallowed. no one notices. they never do. she made sure of it, after all.

aside from you. Outis can feel your stare, then your hand as you pat her shoulder. coaxing her silently to stand. for once, she doesn't protest. simply pinching the bridge of her nose, blindly following your steps, eyes narrowed against the burning light. you lead her further down the hall, away from noise and chatter until everything is silent.

her room is blissfully quiet, for once. dimly red, a haze over her vision. Outis doesn't say a word as you nudge her towards the bed, slipping out of her jacket and boots to climb under the covers. her temples ache, nausea clawing at her throat. she shudders, just barely, as you tip her chin up, a glass of water held to her lips.

she drinks. your fingers are so warm, lingering on her jaw. without a thought her hand snatches your wrist, preventing you from pulling away.

Outis hesitates. a thumb swiping over your wrist, over the veins and bone. slowly, she brings your hand to her head, until your palm rests over her cheekbone and cups the side of her face. she sighs - quietly- allowing her eyes to finally slip shut.