With a groan, he pulled himself from the extremely warm bed he was lying in, and walked to the window of the inn’s bedroom, stretching his arms over his head. The window was fogged over, and he wiped a section clean, peering outside hesitantly.

The ground outside was completely covered in snow, he guessed at least two feet high. Which meant that the ship was most likely frozen in place, but he wasn’t going to brave leaving the warmth of the inn to check. But that also meant that he, and the rest of the crew, were going to be stuck for the day.

“Shit,” Jacqui murmured. He sighed and his breath fogged up the glass even more, covering the patch he had just wiped away. Resting his head against the cold window for a moment, he closed his eyes, but not a second later felt warm arms wrap around his chest, a chin propped on his shoulder.

“What is it?” Bai asked, and Jacqui could feel the fur blanket he was covered by press into his back, soft, comforting, and familiar. Jacqui didn’t need to look at him to know Bai was squinting in the light, not having put his glasses on yet.

Jacqui leaned back into Bai slightly, his hands covering the ones on his chest. “It snowed a lot more than I expected last night. I don’t think we’ll be able to get out there today.”

“Hm.” Bai started playing with Jacqui’s fingers gently, and Jacqui felt his lips brush the nape of his neck. “You don’t sound too disappointed.”

“I’m a bit annoyed, there were things we planned to do—” Jacqui shook his head, cutting himself off. “But you’re right. I’m not disappointed.” He twisted around in Bai’s hold to face him, placing his hands on Bai’s hips, pulling them closer together. “You’re here.”

[I am.]

At the feeling of Bai’s voice in his mind, Jacqui captured his lips in a soft kiss, feeling Bai’s hands run up his back to hold onto Jacqui’s shoulders, fingertips pressing into his skin. Bai’s body was still very warm from being wrapped up in bed, and Jacqui bent towards him even more, his skin craving that warmth, the feeling of their skin against each other.

He kissed Bai again, slowly starting to walk them both back towards the bed, where in the bundle of blankets and sheets an imprint of their bodies still lay, as if they had left a part of them in the bed behind. They fit back into those pieces, fit back into each other, and Jacqui kept kissing him as one of Bai’s hands wove through his locs, the other running over his chest, both of them starting to breathe heavily.

I want this, he thought, not even intending for Bai to hear it, but he still did.

[What do you mean?]

Jacqui sighed, resting back on his knees to look over Bai on the bed, moon-white hair spread out across the sheets, face flushing darker the longer Jacqui stared. He brought the back of Bai’s hand to his lips, kissing it once, holding his gaze the entire time. This. Us. “You,” he whispered. “I want you.”

The blush on Bai’s face deepened, and he squirmed under Jacqui but didn’t pull away.

[I want you too.]

He wanted more, but wasn’t sure how to say it, or even think it, so he settled for kissing up Bai’s arm to his shoulder, across his chest, up his neck, until their lips met again, drinking in every soft moan that left Bai’s mouth, every shiver his body ran against him. As they moved, they only built up more heat between them, forgetting about the cold outside their blankets, outside the window.

In no time at all, Jacqui had forgotten that it had even snowed, focusing on nothing else but Bai, and the way they lost and found themselves in each other.

~

Take me back to the moon white snow-covered day we spent, bodies entwined, heat like the sun between our skin but warmer, arms enveloping holding, caressing, touching, loving and the world was no bigger than us.

~

Sun Bai kicked the covers aside, leaning in over steepled palms. His long hair flowed like water down his bare shoulders. “With..?”

“With you, of course.” She pulled her velvet gloves back over the pale, scarred skin of her arms. She felt him shift, a touch too eager to be suspicion, a tilt of his head to signal his attention. “He wanted you gone.” Sybilla murmured.

Bai exhaled.

What did you tell him?

“What do you think?” She laughed, missing the warmth of the covers, of his hot, reverent breath against her skin. These meetings and partings were always always teetered at the edge of wistfulness, at the edge of everything, even here, in this near-nameless Ataptran township, it’s near-nameless suite where they’d taken refuge from the snow. She preferred it that way.

Rolling off the bed, Bai padded over the plush rug to situate himself beside her, perching his hands on her knees.

“He’s dead.” She told him.

I know.

Sybilla raised an eyebrow.

“My people were after him.” Bai plucked at a silver falcon embroidered onto her pocket, peering up at her through his glasses. “When they told me someone beat them to the job-“

“You didn’t think it was me?”

A pause. “No.” He confessed. “I didn’t think you had reason to.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair. Beneath her gloves, her hands still thrummed with magic, cold and strong. “It seems I did.” She whispered, and he lifted himself to his knees to kiss her, only to have her hold him back, her dropping her palms to his chest. “If you must know,” She leaned away playfully, “He called me a name I didn’t like.”

“Ah.” A small smile tugged at his lips. “Then I should be careful not to offend you.”

Sybilla chuckled, finally tipping his chin up to kiss him, only once, only barely. “You are.” She guided his hand to the emerald pendant glittering at her open collar. “And I like your gifts more.”

She let him go, shaking her head almost ruefully. “I suppose I’m too much of a Southerner, Sun Bai, to not look out for my-“ She bit her lip. For my own. It wouldn’t do.

You’ve never mentioned the South before.

“Naturally.” Her pale green eyes drifted to the window, and back. “There’s nothing to say.”

“In any case,” She stood up, briskly pulling her coat snug around herself. “I thought I should let you know.”

He hummed, almost non-committal, reaching to briefly grasp at her fingertips. “You’re leaving.”

“So are you.”

He said nothing, only kissed the back of her palm, and let her go.

She could feel his eyes on her as she whistled for her falcon, and walked away, as she always did, without goodbyes or promises. She wondered when she would see him next, which hurried note she would follow, which interchangeable city it would take them, this game she was fond of as she was of him.

Just as she shut the door behind her, his silence followed her like the wind’s whisper, a kiss.