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(Backdated to Pre Feb 21'st)

‘Do I give it to her now? Do I wait? Do I talk about what's going on with — everything —’

No, being silent was what had gotten him into this mess, wasn’t it? Being cloistered off, aloof, and alone. By choice, obviously. Always, it had been his own choices that led him here. He couldn’t blame his actions on anyone else other than himself, especially not now.

‘No one else punched that Page, that was me. I didn’t even need to be ordered to do it…I’d just..’ He wondered if ‘this’ was what Fulgurite had been talking about all along? All this time? If there were hallmark stages and symptoms or if the way he was venting his frustrations was simply a culmination of things a long time coming. Could ‘Chaos’ be catalogued like a disease, were the boxes so easy to tick off? One after another…

He didn’t like to think so, to let it be a thing so easy as an overflow of festering that seeped out through his fists and his briefly sparked rage. It felt like more excuses and he didn’t need to give himself any more of those, he certainly didn’t deserve them.

But the letter? He kept it tucked away in subspace, mulled over its contents time and again, debated with himself how he’d reveal such a thing as he tersely made his way to their usual rendezvous point. Healed far more than he had been two weeks ago and straight after coming out of the messy little skirmish, wishing that his low cut, tightly cinched, revealing *everything* of a uniform hid a bit more…

To preserve his pride more than for the sake of hiding any smudge of a bruise or obvious truth away from Nikki; whose familiar auric feel melted the stiff lines off his face, twinging his scowl into a smile. A soothing balm always, and how Matt had chosen him over her? How the man had forsaken them both? He couldn’t wrap any kind of logic around it, his feelings on the subject had failed him, and it was probably better not to dwell on those thoughts, not now that he had sturdier plans for the man than he had a month and a half ago. Spring break was coming up soon –

And Nikki was waiting for him.

“You know, of all the things I might forget when this is all said and done? The one thing I hope not to, is the feel of your aura.” Was it corny? As cornflour, but he almost couldn’t help himself. Sometimes he saw her and he wanted Matt's words, to write poetry and sonnets about either of them using descriptives that weren’t borderline boredom inducing. But especially her, who deserved better than pink, bubbly, butterfly adjectives pinned to her name.

Air rushing free of his lungs in an ‘oomph’ as he caught her; the way her small frame belied an unexpected sturdiness. Stronger than she looked, always. Had it been long enough that he’d nearly forgotten? Not that she’d let him, and he was glad for that fact as the bright warmth of her presence washed over him, how he could’ve sworn her aura almost tingled; soft as a moonbeam, a hint of sugar and ozone. So wrong against his own chaotic one, but so right to finally have in his arms.

“You too—“ he nuzzled back, laughing softly for the ease of it all, like her affection was contagious. The sort of thing he longed to catch if only to break the monotony of his own dreary inner monologue.

And then she squeezed—

And he couldn’t hide the wince or bare hisst of hurt as the motion that so often stole his breath and filled him with joy like a downy weighted blanket twinged what was old and healing, aggravated the memory of what had yet to fade under scant cloth across his chest and around his ribs.

“Goodness you're always so strong. I almost forget to brace myself!” Not quite a lie, not nearly enough truth, and he didn’t want to let her go even as he wanted to drag her away into some unseen alcove to do little more than cuddle…

And alright..maybe kiss too! No, definitely that, what with the last few months they’d had.

The kiss left his lips tingling, a brief heady reminder of how easy some things could be when given out so freely. Without lines he’d drawn himself in sand to complicate them. How sure he was that things were the other way around, because he knew she could’ve likely thrown him over her shoulder…or off a roof…likely with one hand tied behind her back. The way his mind arrested on all the ways he knew too, that she didn’t mean necessarily mean ‘gentle’ in a physical sense only.

We’re they just handling each other with kid gloves? Was this the honeymoon phase? Was he being extra nice because he feared potentially hurting and thus chasing away the last remaining good thing he’d chosen to cling to in this life…

Did Matt feel like this? And then accept it as truth, and then chase us away because…

His mind stuttered, stalled, he stared down into her eyes instead and fell on all sorts of swords labeled honesty. He was already in this deep, rifht? Why stop now.

“I started peopling again…against my will, obviously. But I took our talk to heart. If it’s any consolation — ah — a balm to my spirit? At least one of the people I was out with wasn’t having a wonderful time.” He thought many a time that it served Waru right, that the man’s d**k and the choices he’d chosen to make with it should have tripped him up. It was both karmic and retribution and? Worth it to watch from the sideline without feeling like he was in the middle.

Aramis seemed to get a kick at least—

“I went to some parties over Christmas…” it was supposedly healthy, he hated it. “I worked…” less healthy, but it killed time.“I…think pendour is a dream in comparison...” Chuckling, mirthful, because he hadn’t disliked Promethei. In fact? The man’d had several salient and good points. Hed had sound ******** logic even. That was maybe what had irked Syrus the most..the way he’d caged…but by bit and always more since Pendour had opened a door and let him label it homework when what it really was was rebuilding his soul from the ground up. “I don’t know if I’d call him treating me like how a horse treats a mosquito on its flank, anything like a fight? But…”

He waved it off. It wasn’t that bad. Things weren’t that awkward…not so much so between him and Promethei at least that he wouldn’t talk to the man. No, facing Nikki’s family was worth a little blushing and self flagellation…

What was awkward though—

“Speaking of the kind of fighting I don’t usually do? Of awkward encounters?” Teeth skating his love lip as he hummed a pause, searching for a better way to explain. Finding none. Throws my sugar coating out the window. Because being gentle didn’t mean lying to each other to spare one another’s feelings, right?

“I should probably mention that there was a kidnapping very recently….” Nearly two months ago, technically. “And that I…I think I might have potentially pissed some not-so-baby orderlings off…” Punched a page bloody and he was so angry and it wasn’t at all like him and…

But it had felt good at the time, hadn’t it? Hurt traded for hurt sake and to be on the upper hand of the winning side and..a temporary reprieve…a bloody bit of an answer at his fingertips and it’d come so easily.

It’d been easy.

Until Encke had defended the stairs in a blaze of ******** off attitude and haloed lightning. Until the sun and shield knight at his side had joined in tandem.

Gods, I need to get out of here.

The sort of mental revelation that came only after the night had ended and bruises faded along a string of following days. Need meeting want and hitting a wall of stall—

I could leave any time I want to. I keep finding reasons not to. Creating them for myself when those reasons don’t appear.

I sometimes want to kick myself in my own a**—

Maybe encke can beat me to it?

She might as well have swept his legs, the way he followed her words bouncily, let her joy carry him lightly along as her fingers twined with his own, tugged the inert into motion.

And then she mentioned Promethei— he nearly inclined his head and agreed. Because yes, he was very cute, he hadn’t crawled so far into a hole that he didn’t even look in his own mirror anymore. Mirror looking was a requirement, even though he would've used the word — oh — polished? Suave? Waifishly handsome? Some iteration along that line, but it was Nikki talking and so being called ‘cute’ translated to same-such — at least until it clicked that she wasn’t the one complimenting him:

Oh, gods Promethei was— had apparently told her some bit of information that made her feel the need to pass on *this* hot enough to scald his cheeks and the tips of his ears red *tea*. Cryolite could hide neither the shock nor the blush that crawled his face and stayed sat there, the way shock morphed into him trying to pass the notion off entirely. To wave it off as nothing more than Promethei pulling his chain — still — even now — somehow!!

‘What an a**—-‘ and to Syrus’s endless shame he didn’t know if he meant the thought as admonishment or a compliment at this point!!

“He’s fine—“ because he wouldn’t be derailed by Nikki’s delinquent bestie of a — fun uncle? No she had called him something else he was sure! “And I am! Ehm—” swallowing his own squeak, finding his center instead of thr off kilter heat that spread at even imagining promethei and Nikki talking about him in any way other than a businesslike one! But he was a person first and not just a project and so it made sense…“I am — and he knows — he should? But, tsk, I’m not actually mad that your family would kill to..well…to protect you I’m sure? Or is that just how he handles chaos in general…” he could’ve believed both options to be true at this point, wanted to dig at it until the subject shifted and they were back to the kind of business that made him yearn for a confessional just a little bit.

He’d never been the religious type before, but with Nikki? Was it all this wanting to be better piling up? All the urge to change with the slowly building, ever steady tide?

He didn’t know, but he did stop whinging enough to level her with a far more serious and honest look.

“ ‘We’ got in a fight…” a royal expletive, but he wouldn’t lie and say he couldn’t have refused. He chose to go — and to help — and — “They took Heliodore…some ripe banana looking Senshi and an Earth Knight? The team,” and it was so hard sometimes to say ‘my team’, but they were, weren’t they? As soured as he was on staying where he was, he didn’t distinctly hold any ill will towards Waru and the others. He didn’t want them maimed — or worse — dead. No matter how viciously they played the game — nor the bodies stacked high behind their names. To have hated them would’ve been akin to hating himself and in doing so spitting on the few precious gifts he’d gotten from his time amongst them. “as you can imagine? Was livid. Albeit in a very focused way.”

There had been a plan, once Helio’s location was discerned, and everything fell into place with systemic ease. It was rather terrifying in a way, what they could do when they locked in and worked as one unit towards one goal.

“He was in a bad way….I’m honestly surprised they didn’t kill him outright.That they managed the feat at all was one thing. That they thought they could get away with baiting Faustite by taking one of his own..” He was glad they hadn’t, as glad as he was shocked by orders recklessness. Of all the people to pick on in the whole of the universe? “Though? Maybe that’s why Encke and his little entourage were there. He packs quite a punch you know…even from a distance…” a sly sort of compliment as he leveled Nikki with a long look, gauging hee taking all the new information in.

His emphatic denial stalled by her giggling accusation, his blush deepening, stammering intensifying, because no – absolutely not! He did not *like* Promethei, even if he could objectively admit the man had decent features. Luckily he didn’t have to, not to apologize, not to defend himself. The relief palpable on his face and in his sigh as he took her teasing in stride, with a softer blush and lowered lashes. Her compliments pulled a different sort of look from him all together, the way Nikki was so sharp to go right along with all her softness. The way it made him grin, small and earnest, for being called ‘prince’ of anything.

“As your future forever prince? I swear…” He crossed his heart with a pointer finger, didn’t hope to die because he doubted she’d like that. But he was swearing things, pulling the pieces of himself together behind the scenes, bundling up, preparing mortuary pyres and wills for those he’d leave behind. Those closest to his official family, what he still had of one. What he’d made with his own hands more than through the prize of being born lucky.

“No promises about never being murdered, but? If ever I am, it’ll never be for the reasons you might be afraid of.” It was easier to say every time, to tac hope onto the end, dovetailed and light winged. Things would’ve stayed light – until he watched Nikki’s expression tilt sideways – tracked the nervous motions. He felt the tug of wanting to soothe her, save how he’d never quite seen her like this. She very rarely ever swore, even in jest. Frowned even less – except about Fulgurite, which Syrus thought was both fair and valid to do. Which he’d noticed she’d mostly seemed to stop doing, after writing him out of things in a very literal sense.

“That’s some strong language…” Sparkly, new, it caught his interest. The differences in her demeanor, the way he wanted to chart them all down like a cartographer. The way he wanted to catch her as she recoiled and pull her back in because she looked far too pale all of a sudden…

Was looking furious…..

He was almost sorry he’d brought it up, and spilt spoiled milk all over their budding good mood. Made her angry. Not at him, clearly, no, but still? Except for how he wasn’t – he wanted to know every facet of Nikki, like a gem with fissures and depths beyond the shine of the surface. To know her theit..well..no way he thought he’d known Matt, to share even these sorts of unpleasant feelings! Her hissing in vitriol at something she hadn’t been present for. How he felt somehow vindicated now about his behavior during the situation he’d found himself in. Stuck in a room and livid and not caring and craving violence because none of it needed to have happened – or at least if it had? If it’d been some known enemy, frome tit for tat? But no, a bunch of rando’s touching what was most precious to those he still…would likely always…care about…

Whatever Faustite deserved? Whatever bad-time a fictional hell maybe held for the fiery boy? Cryolite certainly didn’t think it should have been taken out on Helio. That no good was served through lobbying hurts indirectly at each other through the grapevine.

“I’m sorry I brought it up if it..well..no, I’m not. Because there’s nothing I don’t want to tell you and because my behavior wasn’t exactly good either? Ah…there was page punching..pre-shocking…and I don’t care if he does…” Fighting to find a smile again as his hands hovered and he wondered if he should reach for her once more. “Because Encke’soo not as ‘ostensibly cute’ as Promethei might be..the lightning assured me of that…and I said might!!” Pressing the point, his chuckle rough as he held his hand out to her once more.

“And I also don’t care because me ‘doing it?’ Hah, this oh so nebulous ‘it’ that is me purifying? It’s already a sure thing.” Determined as he closed the gap once more, gently embracing the hems of her sleeves with fingertips, with the potential for touch that she could slip free from if need-be. “And I don’t think you’d be introducing me to the kind of family that would hold me fighting them against them? I don’t think you’d love them as much as you seem to if they were…just…crazy hypocrites, right?”

“Now…maybe let’s…talk about anything else. You’re terrifying when you’re even a little bit angry!” His turn to tease and twist the conversation away from that oh so other path. Because there would always be more, with her. He would always want it. Yearned for it, even. That easier, brighter way around dark corners and angry bends.