[ There's a reciprocal relief, when he gets the sense of her relaxing from the additional point of contact. So, he keeps it, trapping their body heat and that of the bath in the cup of his hand. Slowly, he strokes the pad of his thumb along the faint impression of tendons on the bridge of her foot, allowing the silence to lapse. ]
Allowed? [ He's disconcerted as much as he feels a spark of fury on her behalf, rebellion sitting just behind his teeth. ] They treated you like an object, not a person.
[ Amidst the flare of anger is a bitter disgust. And even further underneath, a miserable clarity as to why she's so outspoken against Sleep. Why her memory of that one room was that of emptiness, as gapingly hollow as the abyss she's built a path over.
It colors her initial lean in towards him over the tether, all those months ago, in a different light. ]
[Why does it always surprise her so, that the people who care about her share in her anger over her upbringing? They should be angry. Any sensible person would be. Somewhere within her, though, that lonely child still sits in cavernous rooms and cold hallways, always expecting to be the only one that Kalmiya can rely on, even when her conscious mind knows otherwise.
Her toes curl at the sensation atop her foot, something just shy of ticklish. The truth sits beneath her tongue, restless—uncomfortable, ungraceful, and yet eager to escape. Arthur's loyalty speaks for itself even when it hasn't been lit by his anger. He's never pressed even as he sat closer to her secrets than anyone ever has, always one errant thought away from learning more than she was ready to share. She loves him. He's safe. It would be better if he knew.
However, the full weight of it is more than she's willing to heap upon this fragile moment. She can't bear to darken this little pocket of warmth, this strange comfort that they've found. He's got enough of her tender spots to see to already.]
...I was important there, [she begins plaintively, a compromise with herself,] so I was a lot of things. Person was never really among them.
[Later, says the breath that follows. A silent assurance of trust, a promise to give him a better look at a less delicate time.
Then, as she so often does, she releases her hold on the weight she only hints at, lightening both her chest and the easy cadence of her voice as she pushes through.] Didn't have to bathe once I ran away, though. Couldn't have even if I'd wanted to, most of the time!
Their deity. Something to worship. [ Or perhaps a savior? To him, it's all the same end: placing a person on a pedestal. Making her out to be something she wasn't. He remembers her mirror towering over them, its eyes blank with searing brightness, its countenance filled with judgment and disgust. All meant to shame, to dangle her over a pit of guilt for the simple sin of wanting to be loved, not idolized.
That isn't the whole story, not at all, but she whispers later between them, like a promise. It's something he's said to himself many times, so he leaves it, giving her space. She'll tell him when she's ready, just like she's shared these pieces with him now.
When she brightens with partially forced lightness, he gives her ankle an affectionate squeeze, letting her steer the topic. ]
Not even a river bath? Or whatever the hell adventurers do. [ As if to help clear the tension further, he takes her calf in both hands, pressing his thumbs into the muscle to massage the remaining stiffness out. ]
[Of course. Arthur pays attention. He's got the general shape of it, and the less she has to spell out, the better. Even with practice, the process of unwrapping her most vulnerable parts is a clumsy one; anything that helps steady her hands for it is something to be grateful for. There is a smoothing sensation along the length of the tether, the comfort of being understood.
The directed pressure of his hands around her calf prompts a groan caught in the satisfying middle between pain and relief, a sufficient outside distraction from the upsetting details of her upbringing. She shuts her eyes and lets the cup of the tub at her back bear a little more of her weight as she sinks deeper into the water. It's been quite a while since someone went out of their way to loosen the inevitable knots of tension in her body, so she might as well get comfortable.
A heavy sigh follows her groan, paving the way for speech.] Rivers weren't easy to come by in that area. And I was very particular about exposing my body out in the open—I was afraid of what would happen if anyone saw what I actually was.
[Hence the bodysuit. Hence the helmet. Hence the absolute hatred of her mirror, unmistakably and resplendently divine to all who beheld it.]
[ A soothing sensation slides over their connection, akin to a sip of cocoa on a cold day. Without any words, he knows it's the shape of Kalmiya's gratefulness in his rough translations. Are they the whole picture? Not at all. But, he thinks they're close enough to the shape that she's spared having to sketch out the entire thing.
Just as she sets it aside, he does as well, concentrating on the sound she makes and the way she slouched further into the dip of the tub. With typical thoroughness, he digs into the knots of her calf muscle, encouraging them to loosen and be further relaxed by the hot water. ]
Aasimar are pretty rare, yeah? [ She hasn't said in so many words, but he could read between the lines. It clicks in even further: not only rare, but with their angelic-like appearance, it would be easy to mistake one for some holy entity. Something to worship. With her traveling, she hadn't wanted repeat of the place she'd fled from. ]
Understandable. Sometimes, you just want to blend in, by whatever means necessary. [ He comments with a thoughtful nod, moving his hands further up, towards her knee, and continuing to work the tension out. ]
Mhm. So if one were sighted after a prominent aasimar went missing from a nearby town... [It would have been so easy, too easy to find her. And knowing now that they were looking has vindicated all the paranoia and dread she felt in those first months, trying to go about her life while constantly looking over her shoulder.
She allows the implication to remain implied, and gives her toes another experimental wiggle. Still not terribly coordinated.
But as easily as she finds comfort with Arthur (in both physical and mental space,) she takes to the massage well. He's very attentive, and she has no inclination to hold on to any of the tension he's working out with his hands, as if she's letting it melt out into the water with each careful stroke.
Before getting too relaxed, she downs the last of her drink and gingerly sets the empty glass aside. With that need attended to, she can assume a properly lazy slouch, sinking down along her side of the tub until she can tip her head back against the edge with a relieved sigh. This also conveniently gives him easier access to more of her leg, her knee going up as her shoulders go down.]
I didn't exactly blend in. But nobody knew what to make of me. I could have been anybody.
[I could be me, drifts quietly along the tether, trailing that particular train of thought in the same way that a specter lingers with business unfinished.]
[ Kalmiya trails off, the end of her sentence so obvious that it hangs in the air, thick as the humidity clinging to their skin. It's easy enough to make the next logical leap: she'd felt hunted. Haunted, maybe. Just as there'd been a brush of understanding from her end, he reciprocates—while their reasons had been different, he knows what it's like to be on alert all the time. To be waiting for the other shoe to drop, to dread looking over his shoulder and finding all of his mistakes and past gaining ground.
He can't say he's any better about the paranoia, but he's learned to keep living anyway. Something he thinks Kalmiya's figured out as well, judging from how she flexes her toes and slumps further into the embrace of the bath. After drinking her water, anyway. But soon enough, she pillows her head on the edge of the tub, the line of her neck showing off all the marks he'd left earlier. And perhaps by design, he's able to reach more of her leg, palms slipping up to just above her knee and kneading into the tight muscle. ]
You could've. [ Just like he could have chosen to become a lawyer, a journalist, an accountant—anything under the sun, really. Both of them picked what they really wanted, though. ] But, you chose to be this.
[ He says with warmth, glancing up at her lounging form. ]
[She is in no state to question nor shy away from the affection in Arthur's words. It seems a wonderfully synchronous feeling when she's already surrounded by so much warmth—soaking in it, breathing it in, absorbing it from every press of his palms into her thigh. It's easy to let his voice join that comforting flow.
The feeling pools somewhere in her chest, and she would be hard pressed to tell whether it's Arthur's affection or her own.
There is another short, satisfied sound at the back of her throat as he works a knot free, preceding a sage chuckle.] I choose it every day.
Sometimes it's hard to find, and sometimes I don't know what it means. But it's worth it, don't you think?
[Arthur said himself, when confronted with her mirror, that people spend their entire lives trying to figure themselves out. She might have more to figure out than most people she's met—but that means more opportunity to discover something new, too.]
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no subject
Date: 2026-02-13 04:13 am (UTC)Allowed? [ He's disconcerted as much as he feels a spark of fury on her behalf, rebellion sitting just behind his teeth. ] They treated you like an object, not a person.
[ Amidst the flare of anger is a bitter disgust. And even further underneath, a miserable clarity as to why she's so outspoken against Sleep. Why her memory of that one room was that of emptiness, as gapingly hollow as the abyss she's built a path over.
It colors her initial lean in towards him over the tether, all those months ago, in a different light. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-14 05:15 am (UTC)Her toes curl at the sensation atop her foot, something just shy of ticklish. The truth sits beneath her tongue, restless—uncomfortable, ungraceful, and yet eager to escape. Arthur's loyalty speaks for itself even when it hasn't been lit by his anger. He's never pressed even as he sat closer to her secrets than anyone ever has, always one errant thought away from learning more than she was ready to share. She loves him. He's safe. It would be better if he knew.
However, the full weight of it is more than she's willing to heap upon this fragile moment. She can't bear to darken this little pocket of warmth, this strange comfort that they've found. He's got enough of her tender spots to see to already.]
...I was important there, [she begins plaintively, a compromise with herself,] so I was a lot of things. Person was never really among them.
[Later, says the breath that follows. A silent assurance of trust, a promise to give him a better look at a less delicate time.
Then, as she so often does, she releases her hold on the weight she only hints at, lightening both her chest and the easy cadence of her voice as she pushes through.] Didn't have to bathe once I ran away, though. Couldn't have even if I'd wanted to, most of the time!
no subject
Date: 2026-02-15 03:15 am (UTC)That isn't the whole story, not at all, but she whispers later between them, like a promise. It's something he's said to himself many times, so he leaves it, giving her space. She'll tell him when she's ready, just like she's shared these pieces with him now.
When she brightens with partially forced lightness, he gives her ankle an affectionate squeeze, letting her steer the topic. ]
Not even a river bath? Or whatever the hell adventurers do. [ As if to help clear the tension further, he takes her calf in both hands, pressing his thumbs into the muscle to massage the remaining stiffness out. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-18 05:51 am (UTC)The directed pressure of his hands around her calf prompts a groan caught in the satisfying middle between pain and relief, a sufficient outside distraction from the upsetting details of her upbringing. She shuts her eyes and lets the cup of the tub at her back bear a little more of her weight as she sinks deeper into the water. It's been quite a while since someone went out of their way to loosen the inevitable knots of tension in her body, so she might as well get comfortable.
A heavy sigh follows her groan, paving the way for speech.] Rivers weren't easy to come by in that area. And I was very particular about exposing my body out in the open—I was afraid of what would happen if anyone saw what I actually was.
[Hence the bodysuit. Hence the helmet. Hence the absolute hatred of her mirror, unmistakably and resplendently divine to all who beheld it.]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-21 05:05 am (UTC)Just as she sets it aside, he does as well, concentrating on the sound she makes and the way she slouched further into the dip of the tub. With typical thoroughness, he digs into the knots of her calf muscle, encouraging them to loosen and be further relaxed by the hot water. ]
Aasimar are pretty rare, yeah? [ She hasn't said in so many words, but he could read between the lines. It clicks in even further: not only rare, but with their angelic-like appearance, it would be easy to mistake one for some holy entity. Something to worship. With her traveling, she hadn't wanted repeat of the place she'd fled from. ]
Understandable. Sometimes, you just want to blend in, by whatever means necessary. [ He comments with a thoughtful nod, moving his hands further up, towards her knee, and continuing to work the tension out. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-21 06:20 am (UTC)She allows the implication to remain implied, and gives her toes another experimental wiggle. Still not terribly coordinated.
But as easily as she finds comfort with Arthur (in both physical and mental space,) she takes to the massage well. He's very attentive, and she has no inclination to hold on to any of the tension he's working out with his hands, as if she's letting it melt out into the water with each careful stroke.
Before getting too relaxed, she downs the last of her drink and gingerly sets the empty glass aside. With that need attended to, she can assume a properly lazy slouch, sinking down along her side of the tub until she can tip her head back against the edge with a relieved sigh. This also conveniently gives him easier access to more of her leg, her knee going up as her shoulders go down.]
I didn't exactly blend in. But nobody knew what to make of me. I could have been anybody.
[I could be me, drifts quietly along the tether, trailing that particular train of thought in the same way that a specter lingers with business unfinished.]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-21 08:32 am (UTC)He can't say he's any better about the paranoia, but he's learned to keep living anyway. Something he thinks Kalmiya's figured out as well, judging from how she flexes her toes and slumps further into the embrace of the bath. After drinking her water, anyway. But soon enough, she pillows her head on the edge of the tub, the line of her neck showing off all the marks he'd left earlier. And perhaps by design, he's able to reach more of her leg, palms slipping up to just above her knee and kneading into the tight muscle. ]
You could've. [ Just like he could have chosen to become a lawyer, a journalist, an accountant—anything under the sun, really. Both of them picked what they really wanted, though. ] But, you chose to be this.
[ He says with warmth, glancing up at her lounging form. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-25 03:37 am (UTC)The feeling pools somewhere in her chest, and she would be hard pressed to tell whether it's Arthur's affection or her own.
There is another short, satisfied sound at the back of her throat as he works a knot free, preceding a sage chuckle.] I choose it every day.
Sometimes it's hard to find, and sometimes I don't know what it means. But it's worth it, don't you think?
[Arthur said himself, when confronted with her mirror, that people spend their entire lives trying to figure themselves out. She might have more to figure out than most people she's met—but that means more opportunity to discover something new, too.]