(no subject)
They stood on that icy plain, the fierce storm rippling around them. He stood several paces in front of her, seemingly oblivious to the snow and wind tearing at his clothing, the sting of storm-whipped hair against his cheeks.
She was afraid for him, and called out, but the wind stole her words, tore the concern from her lips and flung it far from them, into the uncaring night.
Eventually, he turned. Silently they moved back to their shelter, her hand rising several times as though to touch him. Always, it fell, and she bowed her head to the storm's fury.
Curled up in her blankets, she tried to hide her distress, pretend the cold was nothing. A trifle. She shivered still, and he must have noticed. She did not feel the blankets lift; her first warning was when his cool flesh brushed against hers, pressed back to back. He was scarcely warmer than the snow itself, and his back was stiff and unyielding.
Long moments she hesitated before turning, careful not to jostle him. She curled into a ball against his back, and slowly warmed. So too, did he, relaxing slightly against her, but remaining ever silent. This was always how it was to be. Her need, his silent giving. His fear... the storm outside was his doing, his element, paling in comparison to his inner tempest... her mute assurance that she had his back. Taicho.
Yes, I was that bored.
She was afraid for him, and called out, but the wind stole her words, tore the concern from her lips and flung it far from them, into the uncaring night.
Eventually, he turned. Silently they moved back to their shelter, her hand rising several times as though to touch him. Always, it fell, and she bowed her head to the storm's fury.
Curled up in her blankets, she tried to hide her distress, pretend the cold was nothing. A trifle. She shivered still, and he must have noticed. She did not feel the blankets lift; her first warning was when his cool flesh brushed against hers, pressed back to back. He was scarcely warmer than the snow itself, and his back was stiff and unyielding.
Long moments she hesitated before turning, careful not to jostle him. She curled into a ball against his back, and slowly warmed. So too, did he, relaxing slightly against her, but remaining ever silent. This was always how it was to be. Her need, his silent giving. His fear... the storm outside was his doing, his element, paling in comparison to his inner tempest... her mute assurance that she had his back. Taicho.
Yes, I was that bored.