olwen [unyoinked]

I do have a bit of soup to share, but if you have your own food you are welcome to that too.

And roast pork, yes.

[Squirm, squirm, pulling away. smoothing her hair down] Alright, breakfast can stop waiting. Off I go.

....hoh. Did your mother put you up to that?

[A good natured huff, tugging his arm lightly.]

Of course I will. Now come, do as I say. You are better off if you do.

.....? You can come in.

Hear. Feel. Think. Cope. Seethe. Mald.

[She seems happy, eating what is perhaps the largest bowl of cabbage soup you've ever seen]

[She's quick to tangle herself with him. A feverishly warm body seeking an affirming niche. The sort of movement that implied she would crawl right between his ribs and stay there if she could.

But there's a shudder to her as she huffs out a soft breath against his mouth. As if frightened.]

[She simply nods, letting her shoulder brush against him. Light, but purposeful. Willing to move forward. Eager to get home.]

Mmh. Very well.

But of course.

[She bows her head a little, and then softly nudges him]

...now, you should almost certainly get back to bed. Now.

...apologies. I was a bit harsh, maybe...

...

[She's quiet again, listening intently. She frowns lightly, realization settling in.]

...you make a good point. I would never accept it.

I would tear myself apart for you, if I had to. Without question. So I could never accept it...

...I would like that.

I owe you. But you know that.

[Her shoulders fall a bit at his touch, relaxed. Despite everything, she seems to be wholly at ease. Letting herself be lead.

There's a gentle absence to her expression. Careful to forget the path they take. Not wanting to linger. There's no need to spoil his intentions. Thoughtful as they are.]

Mmh. No time to wonder about that.

[She huffs, sitting up and slowly getting to her feet. She staggers ever so slighty, knees weaker than expected, but regains her balance.]

You have my laundry to do, as promised.

Hm. The fact you thought about it is enough in my opinion. How chivalrous.

Dalamud has long had a place in Eorzean mythos. Before its fall, the lesser moon was widely believed to be the loyal hound of the goddess Menphina

Beasts seek their own.

You knew what I needed. Thank you for taking care of me.

[Her eyes slip down, seeking his hand. The tattoo he mentioned.]

...will you take me home?

[A shift, and she turns on her side to look at him. The flesh around her eyes is new, clean, but still surrounded with a halo of blood from his work.

There's an earnest softness in her expression, focused on him. One would likely call it loving. Even if she won't say it aloud for his sake.]

[When she finally draws back, her breath comes in soft, grateful gasps. Barely able to tear herself away, hand still gripped tightly in his shirt. Hot breath dusts his face, eyes closed.]

...lay with me. Please.

Fareeah I wish earnestly that you would not dismiss this so quickly.

-warm sun. Pressing ever so slightly into the fingers carding through her hair.

Her eyes-properly hers again, flutter open weakly after a few long minutes. Truly calm, truly focused. Though she still looks tired, in the satisfied sort of way.]

...thank you.

You really do know me well.

-breaks loose. Rattling pitifully up from her chest and leaving her with almost a sense of relief.

Her eyes are too damaged to weep, so she doesn't. But her chest heaves with slow, soft, relieved gasps.

They slow more and more, and finally she's quiet again. Tilting her face up into the-

[Flesh crawls and knits together as she lays back, spidering out and reforming. Nerves, veins, tissue. Any bleeding is sluggish and languid.

Her teeth gently dig into her bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling. Her whole body shakes at the effort of holding back, but finally a sob-

-to muffle her pain. Deaden the nerves as he works. But it is impossible to ignore what is happening.

A trembling breath leaves her once he signals that he's finished, and she wavers. But still stubbornly remains upright.]

...a few minutes. My body is in good condition. Simply leave it alone.

[His tale is a worthy distraction. Even when the pressure and pain comes, and even when the darkness closes sharply in, she has that to cling to.

And she very much does. Hanging on every word. Her fingers twist and tear at the earth below. Seeking distraction. Grounding. Affirmation.

She's quick-

cackling as i drew this

🏷️|| #ffxiv | #graha | #krile

[She's still, and visibly calm. Distant and dull and quiet. But he'd likely still be able to tell the way her pulse was rapidly picking up. Thrumming like a rabbit's, ilms from his fingers.]

Just the eyes. Nothing else.

[Her voice is a soft echo.]

Tell me.