i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
He chuckles at her response, a low and pleasant sound. He is not a creature made for regret, and certainly not one who ever regrets knowledge. The only times he has ever felt anything akin to it are those times he could have acted and did not. He would simply have to convince her of that too. His voice is light when he responds, but the suggestion in it is unmistakable. “Maybe I enjoy living dangerously.”
The water reaches for them as they sink into the waves, but still he cannot pull his gaze from her. There could be sharks swarming at his knees, and still he doesn’t think he would want to look away. She might be the sun, but he would gladly damage his sight staring at her.
Another smile creases his lips at her assertion. “You have many gifts,” he murmurs, amused. His grin only widens when she declares it luckier for him. She might have phrased it as a question, but it is not one. Still, he answers it, voiced edged with laughter. “Perhaps.” His blue eyes darken, gleaming with mirth and something far more devilish. “But you would be the one who has to explain why Nerine’s Guardian is smashed on your rocks.”
Lifting one equine brow, he grins recklessly at her. Perhaps he is far too pleased with himself, but he has reason to be. “Only because of you.” His vibrant eyes are positively wicked now.
Reave says nothing more as he follows her deeper into the water. The waves pull at his skin, cleaning blood from bone and softening the ragged edges of his skin. The salt stings the wounds as they pull against his armor, raw and agitated by his every movement. He barely notices the pain anymore, his tolerance heightened by the chronic nature of it. One day the bone would stop growing as immortality settled over him. One day his skin would be allowed to heal. But for now, it is a fact of life he must continue to bear.
Revelrie might pretend at indifference. She might keep her heart guarded behind armor stronger than what breaks his skin. But still she tries to ease his suffering. It surprises him, that caring, though it should not. So few have ever bothered.
His gaze follows her movements as she settles the wet kelp over the raw edges where flesh meets bone. She asks if it’s better or worse, but it takes Reave several long moments to produce a response. His gaze never leaves her, even when he finally manages a wry grin. “Better.”
He wants to ask why she had done that, but he can’t seem to find the words. They stick at the back of his tongue, filled with a vulnerability he’s not certain he would ever be ready to expose. Instead he lifts his head, gem-bright eyes burning with an uncommon intensity. A grin grows on his lips, masking the brief moment in which he had almost exposed so much of himself to her. “Will you come to Nerine for our third date then?”
reave
@revelrie