✨ somnia inbox

[longwillows]

reach out?

the smell of fresh water in dry desert air. the feeling of cautious curiosity. a place as dangerous as it is resplendent.

c

Comments

[pointedlook]

[ Kalmiya turns to follow the flick of her ear, clearly attuned to the sudden shift in the conversation. When she does, there's a bronze-pink flush across her cheeks. At this, his eyebrows go up marginally, surprised to see the question left her feeling flustered. It's not that he thought it an impossible emotion for her, just that she had a high tolerance for most things that would normally make people shy away.

Her answer, though, is much in line with what he knows of her. Because that's a trait of Kalmiya's he likes immensely: she's thoughtful. Their tether had been borne under the red moon's influence, something they hadn't known until they'd left that physical entanglement with mental impressions of each other, a lingering connection that stayed. Of course, they hadn't strayed from it, even with the knowledge in the aftermath.

That aside, he gets the faint sense of fear from her end. It's a quiet kind of rustling, buried underneath the light way she mentions being sensitive. For a moment, he frowns, turning it over in his head. He doesn't think she's afraid of Sleep—not even after the altercation. They share a similar disdain for deity figures, though he thinks hers runs much deeper, based on the glances he's gotten of her past. Could she be afraid of everything being severed again? Maybe. It would fit.

Though, it wouldn't be the fear of the pain or the punishment, the more he thinks on it. No, he remembers her mirror, how it taunted and jeered, asking what made her worthy of love. Below her feet lays a canyon of blackened loneliness, one she resolutely looks away from. Sleep had forced her eyes downwards, showed her the abyss she's worked hard to build a bridge over by forcibly cutting off her connections. He'd only gotten a small taste of that, when he and Sharon woke up to find a gap where Kalmiya had once been in their mind's eye.

That was the heavy pit of truth, sitting like a stone and weighing her limbs down. Fear she'd be an island again, that any previous tether would turn it down if offered again—because no longer could they claim ignorance. In perhaps other circumstances, he would consider that the path forward. Why would he want to be emotionally tangled up with someone he hadn't known that long? His relationship with Kalmiya isn't a normal situation, though.

So his frown eases up, expression toeing the line of mischief. Across the tether, as weak as it is, there's a warm hum, as serious as it is understanding. ]

Then I'll ask: how do you feel about casual sex? [ It feels right, to make this a cyclical conversation. ]

[longwillows]

[Though not a force enough to stay her candor in the first place, the buzz of worry persists beneath her admission into the beat of quiet that follows. The electronic whir she's so accustomed to is fainter over the tether than in her sensitive ears at this proximity, the pulse of his artificing magic louder than his thoughts in the too-empty mental space they share. Though her posture remains neutral, eyes settled somewhere amidst the nest of cushions, the twitching of her ears and tails give her away, too-attentive little flicks as her senses try to compensate for what her intuition can't pick up.

It's the warmth that pulls her gaze to Arthur, which does little to ease the flush in her face when she catches that edge of mischief. She knows him well enough by now to know what's coming, though the way he chooses to ask catches her off-guard, prompting a bubble of laughter both disbelieving and amused. Claws clack restlessly atop the surface of her desk as she tries to tamp down the intensity of her relief in the moment afforded by that laugh. Reckoning with the deep yearning for the former strength of their tether is a bit much for the present moment, but she can't entirely avoid it in the wave that washes the tension from her body, held in such subtle increments that she hadn't noticed it until it was gone.]

Positive, on the whole, [she answers once her laughter ebbs, turning to face Arthur fully. She folds her arms over her chest as she leans her weight back onto the desk's edge, playfulness softened by sincerity as she continues.] Though I don't know how casual it is at this point.

[She still has no name for what it is, despite her suggestion that she'd eventually find one. Truthfully, she feels little drive to understand its exact nature, nor to risk placing expectations on it by ascribing an ill-fitting label. But she knows it's something intimate—something important. It's gone well beyond the realm of impulsive physical gratification. And if it's worth having, it's worth acknowledging as something serious. Something worth the fear she feels over losing it.

A curious tilt of her head. A hopeful lick of heat along her spine, her tails swishing slowly.] You're really still interested?

[pointedlook]

[ There she is, he thinks, as her expression morphs from disbelief to the shimmer of delight, her laugh ringing out in an utterly joyful peal. While her magic doesn't work here, not as it did in the dream, with the bob of her hair seeming to be in otherworldly suspension, it almost seems as if it's doing that now, her curls shaking with the suppressed motion of her shoulders. It's catching, in its own way, as his smirk softens at the edges, amusement tilting the line of it instead. ]

I figured as much. [ He replies, once she's been able to find words again through her giggles. As for whether it's casual or not—well, it's a label that works for now. While he doesn't like to leave things so open-ended, he also doesn't know what to ascribe to their relationship. To call it committed isn't exactly wrong. Nor is it right. So, he gives her a one-shouldered shrug, both agreeing and not having any further input at the moment.

He will, he's sure, later. After he's had a lot of time to ruminate. ]

Kalmiya, you should know I don't offer things I have no interest in.

[longwillows]

[A smaller wave of laughter, just a chuckle that buoys her words.] I know, I know, just— I told you, I'm sensitive!

[It's more a tease than a reprimand, and the humor is at her own expense, anyway. She knows very well that he wouldn't ask if he weren't truly interested; in fact, the fact that he got to asking at all means he's likely given it a lot of thought prior to bringing it up. There's no justified doubt in her heart, no real reason not to trust that he knows what he's asking for.

There's just that little twinge of fear. Which she knows better than to give an ear to, but—she just wants to make sure. Much as she doesn't want to venture anywhere near that aching void again, the idea of getting Arthur hurt through her thoughtlessness is worse.

Regardless, she has her sought-after reassurance. She also has the persisting heat beneath her skin, more intense at the apples of her cheeks and the base of her spine. Languidly her arms unfold, the palms of her hands settling on the edge of the desk to brace her lean as she shifts her weight and scuffs the ball of one foot idly against the floor. Clear excitement undercuts the attempted mischief in her blooming smile, the slow sway of her tails picking up some speed beneath the large, loose-fitting shirt she wears as a smock.] So, what's the expected turnaround time for this request? I can get to granting it immediately if you need a rush job.

[pointedlook]

[ Despite his reiteration, he can't bring himself to feel frustrated by Kalmiya's near-paranoid triple checking. For one, she's very recently been through an ordeal like none other. For two, she normally didn't need such reassurances. She'd learned to handle herself, measure out her confidence, and give her trust when it was warranted.

The encounter with Sleep had thrown all of that into disarray. While she didn't seem to be on the verge of a crisis, she was still getting back up on wobbly legs; a newborn foal, beginning the process of walking on her own all over again. Judging from the shift in her body language, though, he thinks that she's well on her way. There's mischief in her expression, in the languid swish of her tails, the familiar curve of her mouth. ]

Well, you know me, I'm willing to be patient. [ He says, tone warm with amusement–sometimes it was fun to push buttons. ]

But–[ Leaning forward, he catches the slide of her foot on the hardwood floor, slowly dragging his palm up the bridge of it to loosely curl around a delicate ankle. All the while, he doesn't turn his gaze away from hers, angling it upwards as he continues. ]–if you're offering a rush job, I could hardly say no.

[longwillows]

[His amusement encourages her little smile into a toothy grin. Even with the tether in a weakened state, it shakes with her excitement—as do her tails, their sway becoming a full-on wag. His palm is met with a slight and sudden tensing of her tendons as it alights on her foot, which relaxes as his hand moves upward to circle his fingers around her ankle.

(In tandem with the bloom of supernatural heat beneath her skin, the faint and brief sensation of a tickle passes over the psychic connection.)

She keeps his gaze steadily, irises shimmering with iridescence in her delight.] I'm always happy to shuffle you to the top of my priority list.

[Delicately she bends at the waist to reach down to him. The points of her claws and pads of her fingertips are both gentle as they brush down the side of his face, over the hollow of his cheek and down, where her thumb settles in the shallow dimple of his chin. She's captivated by the resulting warmth, a comforting taste of what their tether used to be.] As long as you don't spread word about my favoritism, of course.