Philotes was getting a big. fucking. present. when he was free to go his meddling daughter.
But his fleeting thought about Philotes was over and done before he let out that breath he was holding. Before she was finished saying her final sentence, he was gone.
And then he was there again, behind her, his arms wrapping tight about her slight form and pulling her against him. He wanted to go slow, to be gentle, to let her come to him. It just would not happen. They had been too long apart, he had been too long without her, and it wasn't right to use half-measures with her, not now, not here, not when she had finally asked for him.
It staggered him, a little, even as he wrapped his head around the thought... She wants me. And he was brand new again, and they were once again on the edge of the world, discovering the deep-seated connection that they'd been created to have.
There was no one but Nyx. He never had been foolish enough to think that there'd ever be anyone other than Nyx for him, not truly, but now that she had done the very thing he had been hoping she'd do -- she'd called him to her, with this request of hers -- it was overwhelming.
It was good.
He buried his face in her hair, took in the scent of those riotous curls, and did his best not to tremble.
She closed her eyes as he came up behind her, as he wrapped his arms around her, as she finally, finally felt him against her again.
There was a sense of relief - a tension twisted up so tightly inside of her that finally found release in his arms. As his arms drew around her, there was nothing conscious about the way she leaned back into him, finally being next to him, finally having him here.
She turned in his arms, sliding her arms around his neck, fingers threading into the hair at his nape, tugging his head down so that their foreheads were touching. Her eyes were still closed. Right now, she didn't see him. Right now, she wanted to concentrate on feeling him; feeling his strength and his size against her again, this inimitable feeling of Ere that she hadn't even bothered to try to replicate since she'd last seen him.
Silently and unbidden, tears slipped from the corners of her eyelids. Her breathing quickened: the short, soft breaths of one who had been too long without air.
Pressed against him, her arms tight around him even as her fingers stroked his hair possessively, she couldn't speak aloud. Her throat was constricted as she choked on her heart.
Please, she thought to him, her mind's voice near desperate, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Please don't ever turn me away again. Please don't ever leave me again. No matter what I say.
He hoisted her up against him, dragging her legs around his waist and then bracing her up with an arm under her -- a shelf for her comfort.
She asked him something that, given their volitile past, may not be in his power to grant. As much as he hated it, it was right for him to leave her in the first place. He had been beyond his endurance, and he truly feared he would have hurt her in ways that would never heal. As bad as this had been, it could have been much, much worse.
But to deny her what she asked for... He wasn't sure how to go about that. He wasn't sure if he even could. Oh, certainly it was possible, but was it possible for him? For them?
His lips brushed against her closed eyelids and he murmured soft things to calm her while he rolled around the idea of giving her this promise that he knew, he knew she wanted. She may even need it.
Stepping forward until there was only wall behind Nyx, he leaned forward, trapping her body between the wall and himself. With his hands free to do whatever he wanted, he brushed the hot moisture of her tears away from his wife's face.
"You've shed too many tears," he said finally. "Too many, by far, over me. It will be as you say."
He knew in the back of his head, he knew truly, that he was opening himself up to more pain, dealt out by his favorite hands in the universe...
She opened her eyes, looking deeply into his. Her breathing had evened out, but now, being this way, it quickened again, for entirely different reasons.
"I love you," she breathed, moving forward, kissing his jawline. "I love you," she repeated, moving to his cheek. "I love you," her voice was more fierce, and she kissed his mouth, her arms tightening around him as her lips parted to taste him. It had been too long.
It didn't matter, she was convinced. None of the rest mattered because they weren't meant to be apart, and he had told her wouldn't leave her. She didn't deserve this, she knew. It seemed to be her nature to hurt him, and in entirely different ways, it was in his to hurt her. The tears didn't matter, and the pain didn't matter, ultimately, because nothing felt right without him. Nothing in the Universe felt as right as her body pressed against his, her legs around his waist, and without a second thought, her hips to rolling against him.
I love you; my Ere, my husband... my tricksy beast...
"Nyxie," he murmured against her hair, against her forehead. Her lintany of love fell onto his ears, hungry for only a hint of what she was freely giving him now. He would have taken and stored away and cherished for centuries any small verbal token of her affections for him, but this... This was a feast, and he had gone to starving and back thrice over already. She always had the ability to utterly destroy his defenses.
But this was Philotes' home. And Erebos had some sense of decency.
A breath later, they were lying in lush grass overlooking a certain beach that was as-of-yet undiscovered by the mortals of this age.
He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, but the words wouldn't be enough, not by a long shot. So he told her in other ways.
This time, there was no consideration for waiting, no thoughts of taking it slow or waiting until they had every little thing worked out... No.
In fact, he didn't think of much of anything (save his wife) until some days later, when he actually managed, for approximately two seconds, to lie still on his back.
In those two seconds, his only thoughts were When do you think she'll want to do this aga---oh. Now.
But his fleeting thought about Philotes was over and done before he let out that breath he was holding. Before she was finished saying her final sentence, he was gone.
And then he was there again, behind her, his arms wrapping tight about her slight form and pulling her against him. He wanted to go slow, to be gentle, to let her come to him. It just would not happen. They had been too long apart, he had been too long without her, and it wasn't right to use half-measures with her, not now, not here, not when she had finally asked for him.
It staggered him, a little, even as he wrapped his head around the thought... She wants me. And he was brand new again, and they were once again on the edge of the world, discovering the deep-seated connection that they'd been created to have.
There was no one but Nyx. He never had been foolish enough to think that there'd ever be anyone other than Nyx for him, not truly, but now that she had done the very thing he had been hoping she'd do -- she'd called him to her, with this request of hers -- it was overwhelming.
It was good.
He buried his face in her hair, took in the scent of those riotous curls, and did his best not to tremble.
It didn't quite work, not really.
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There was a sense of relief - a tension twisted up so tightly inside of her that finally found release in his arms. As his arms drew around her, there was nothing conscious about the way she leaned back into him, finally being next to him, finally having him here.
She turned in his arms, sliding her arms around his neck, fingers threading into the hair at his nape, tugging his head down so that their foreheads were touching. Her eyes were still closed. Right now, she didn't see him. Right now, she wanted to concentrate on feeling him; feeling his strength and his size against her again, this inimitable feeling of Ere that she hadn't even bothered to try to replicate since she'd last seen him.
Silently and unbidden, tears slipped from the corners of her eyelids. Her breathing quickened: the short, soft breaths of one who had been too long without air.
Pressed against him, her arms tight around him even as her fingers stroked his hair possessively, she couldn't speak aloud. Her throat was constricted as she choked on her heart.
Please, she thought to him, her mind's voice near desperate, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Please don't ever turn me away again. Please don't ever leave me again. No matter what I say.
Reply
She asked him something that, given their volitile past, may not be in his power to grant. As much as he hated it, it was right for him to leave her in the first place. He had been beyond his endurance, and he truly feared he would have hurt her in ways that would never heal. As bad as this had been, it could have been much, much worse.
But to deny her what she asked for... He wasn't sure how to go about that. He wasn't sure if he even could. Oh, certainly it was possible, but was it possible for him? For them?
His lips brushed against her closed eyelids and he murmured soft things to calm her while he rolled around the idea of giving her this promise that he knew, he knew she wanted. She may even need it.
Stepping forward until there was only wall behind Nyx, he leaned forward, trapping her body between the wall and himself. With his hands free to do whatever he wanted, he brushed the hot moisture of her tears away from his wife's face.
"You've shed too many tears," he said finally. "Too many, by far, over me. It will be as you say."
He knew in the back of his head, he knew truly, that he was opening himself up to more pain, dealt out by his favorite hands in the universe...
It didn't matter.
Reply
"I love you," she breathed, moving forward, kissing his jawline. "I love you," she repeated, moving to his cheek. "I love you," her voice was more fierce, and she kissed his mouth, her arms tightening around him as her lips parted to taste him. It had been too long.
It didn't matter, she was convinced. None of the rest mattered because they weren't meant to be apart, and he had told her wouldn't leave her. She didn't deserve this, she knew. It seemed to be her nature to hurt him, and in entirely different ways, it was in his to hurt her. The tears didn't matter, and the pain didn't matter, ultimately, because nothing felt right without him. Nothing in the Universe felt as right as her body pressed against his, her legs around his waist, and without a second thought, her hips to rolling against him.
I love you; my Ere, my husband... my tricksy beast...
Reply
But this was Philotes' home. And Erebos had some sense of decency.
A breath later, they were lying in lush grass overlooking a certain beach that was as-of-yet undiscovered by the mortals of this age.
He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, but the words wouldn't be enough, not by a long shot. So he told her in other ways.
This time, there was no consideration for waiting, no thoughts of taking it slow or waiting until they had every little thing worked out... No.
In fact, he didn't think of much of anything (save his wife) until some days later, when he actually managed, for approximately two seconds, to lie still on his back.
In those two seconds, his only thoughts were When do you think she'll want to do this aga---oh. Now.
Reply
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