adelphoi | (no subject)

[ being in insomnia again is.. strange. the city is the same as she had remembered, and yet so different, so strange after so many long years in tenebrae. this city seems so enormous and sprawling, sharp and stark in comparison, bright and chrome and full of people. though she remembers her time here, her earliest years, she was still quite young when her parents swept she and her brother back to the motherland, and those tender years of growth had been spent in a city very different, a home that she had grown used to, settled into.

and now they are here again, political tensions spurring her father to emigrate here, to lucis again. the empire has been still and quiet, and there have even been talks of treatise, but alisaie trusts her father's judgment, for all his political involvement. more than national pride, he hopes for his family to be safe and secure, and short of living in the bush, insomnia had seemed to him the ideal location. with the wall so strong, such a city must be impenetrable, yes?

alisaie does not know the details of it all, her father would disclose only so much - she and her brother were to focus solely on their studies, bettering themselves, and not to worry about such things outside of their control. lucis might not be a large nation, but insomnia is safe, and secure. it suits their needs just fine.

still, settling in, for alisaie, is not necessarily easy. unlike the rest of her family, smooth-talkers with political savvy, she has a hard enough time simply getting along with her own peers. her friends in tenebrae had been few and distant, their relationships thin and civil but little more. to have to start over again is.. a nightmare. but she is not here to make friends, she is here to finish her schooling, to graduate and prepare for university and beyond. there's nothing to be afraid of.

yet her knuckles are white around the books clutched to her chest as she climbs the stairs that first day, eyes forward, chin high, and it takes less than a week's time for her to earn a reputation as a haughty, conceited little snob, the little rich girl sort who is far too good to waste her time with those she deems beneath her - everyone, apparently. this is not entirely the case of course, but it suits alisaie's needs just fine. let them think what they want, so long as it affords her a wide berth and quiet time to herself, without the terrifying distraction of working her way into, and maintaining her place within, a social circle.

the weekend seems to take an eon to arrive, but friday is here at last. alisaie sits outside at a table on campus, alone, peeling the crusts distractedly from her sandwich, her advanced chemistry textbook open in front of her. three afternoon classes, and this horrible week will be over.. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ He sits still as she works, his eyes heavily lidded. There's something so very intimate about this, about having his bandages changed by her, and it's strange and familiar all at once. He knows she will do a good job of it. She always does. He would put his life in her hands time and time again.

Maybe that's why it had been so easy to take that blow for her.

At her bit of news, his eyebrows lift gently, his glance darting to her. ]

...That so? Huh...guess I have come a long way. Back...back to the road, then.

[ After all, where else is he going to go? He doesn't have a home. Not really. It's just back to work as usual. ]

[ she can sense it easily enough, the mild uncertainty in his tone, the way his eyelids flicker when he's feeling unsure. for a moment alisaie's hands still in their work, thoughtful and quiet, before she starts again, carefully applying the numbing salve to his wounds. they look good. clean. healing well.

she's quiet for a few more moments, before she ventures- ]

I could.. accompany you, if you like.

[ she and alphinaud have something like a base of operations in lestallum, but it is hardly a home. like him, there is no one place she lays her head. she lowers her eyes, a dry chuckle in her throat. ]

Someone must see to it that you do not reopen your wounds.

...What?

[ He looks at her pointedly, perhaps twisting a bit more than he should, and he winces as his side twinges. What was that about not reopening his wounds? But more importantly, what was that about her...accompanying him?

...No, she must be offering because she feels obligated after he saved her life. That...that's probably the last thing she wants to do. ]

You don't have to do that. D-don't...feel obligated. I'll manage.

[ Just as he manages a weak smile for her now. ]

I don't. Well, I do -

[ of course she feels an obligation, it was because of her that he's in this situation at all, the least she could do it see to it that he heals properly. he would do the same for her. but that's not all. she shakes her head. has he.. forgotten all she had said before? how she held to him while he bled beneath her?

alisaie's gaze flickers up to his face, pensive but nervous, like she's a girl all over again. ]

I was.. wrong, Prompto. I did not listen to you. I did not believe you..

[ He remembers, and he remembers the way she nuzzled to his palm, shedding tears against his skin. But part of him is...afraid, that those memories were tainted by his delirium, or some wishful part of his brain that wants to see more in them than there is. For so long now, he's convinced himself they will never be what they once were. She shut the door firmly on that. But when she looks up at him like that...

Suddenly, he's not so sure.

His eyes flood with tears that brim at his eyelashes, unable to break away from her own. ]

What are you saying?

[ She was...wrong? About him? About his heart, his intentions? ]

[ what are you saying, he asks, and alisaie struggles to find the words with which she can answer. she knows her heart, knows it better now that it is cleared of much anger and bitterness, but there's so much to be said that is nigh impossible to cram into a few sentences, and alisaie has ever relied on action before words.

and so after a few tries, her mouth working, attempting to find the words to convey her heart, to take something so profound and neuter it down to the spoken word, she instead turns to action to convey it. lifting her hands, she gently frames his face, her thumbs gliding over his cheekbones, her eyes finding his, looking deep. she would lean in to kiss him, she is not without the courage, but instead she hearkens to a time long past, to a night a lifetime ago when they sat in an old playground full of dirty old tires. ]

Kiss me, Prompto.

[ she whispers, a shiver trembling down her spine, to her fingers and toes, her nose nudging gently beside his own, her mouth touching his only just until their breaths mingle, inviting him, pleading. ]

[ Her gentle touch splits him down the middle, right to his beating, bleeding heart, his breath catching in his throat as she looks at him and speaks to him in a way she hasn't for a long, long time. It's so unlike the way she held and touched him when they would hook up on the road, when she had been insistent and forceful, allowing nothing sweet to pass between them. But this...this is sweet, and it makes him ache profoundly in ways he never thought he would again. It was over. He had told her that once, and then she had told him it too. They had both declared what was between them a thing long dead, unable to be recovered, not salvageable.

But he was wrong.

His hands lift to cup her cheeks as hot tears spill down his face, and he kisses her tenderly, the pressure of his lips slight and careful, as if this the first time he is doing this all over again. His heart races in his throat, a plaintive sound brushing softly against her lips, as he kisses her with real meaning for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.

He has waited for this for so very, very long.

His lips part over hers slowly, his breathing rushing, as his fingers glide down her neck to her shoulders, holding fast, like he might faint otherwise. ]

[ for a moment she wonders if he will reject her. she would deserve it. he might have broken them initially, but she trampled upon the shards of what remained, ground them into dust without mercy. she is not without fault. if there is nothing left to salvage between them, then that will simply be the way of it.

but then his mouth parts against hers, pulling the breath from her lungs, and alisaie knows all at once that there was no way that they could ever have broken entirely. he was her first friend. her only friend. her lover. her heart. and while there are many questions still left unanswered, this, at least, she can believe in. no matter how far they stray from one another, no matter the distance they create, or how much they hurt one another, there remains something between them that cannot be destroyed.

a soft sound rolls in the back of her throat, plaintive and injured yet impossibly relieved. her arms slip over his shoulders, winding around them, and she tilts her head to fit their mouths together in that easy, perfect way they'd found long ago. a lifetime ago. ]

[ There are no words he could find to adequately describe how good it is to kiss her like this once more. He never thought he would again, and so it feels unreal, and if it weren't for the way his heart pounds or the way his side still twinges with dull pain, he might believe this a dream.

But it isn't. It's real. She meant it, when she said she needed him, that he couldn't leave her just yet. His arms move carefully around her as she deepens the kiss, her mouth wonderfully warm and gentle against his own, and his fingers sink into her hair, gliding along to reacquaint his fingers with the feel of it. ]

I love you. [ He breathes against her, his lips brushing hers with every word. ] More than anything.

[ And then he kisses her again, good, deep and warm, tasting her as his tears still fall. ]