-plops down-

Helllooooo. <:

Emerald-toned irises gazed out of the crystalline window, now covered in tiny pearls of rainwater that seemed to be endlessly falling from the sky.

She had been somewhat quiet the last couple of days. Even her brother, who come over twice in the past week noticed. The second time, before he left, he asked her if anything was wrong. Martisol had just answered that she was tired. His dark eyes had narrowed, staring into her face, as if searching for the real truth, but he had just sighed and said his good-byes.

She had no explanation as to what was going on. A strange feeling in her gut told her something was very wrong. She was turning sick with worry. She laid her thin hands on the base of her neck, where her amethyst usually rested. It wasn't there, of course, but it was just a nervous impulse. It was being used within the trees of the forest to be used as a protector, a ward. She had hesitated to give it up, of course, but she was sure she was going to get it back as soon as possible, right? Maybe all this worry was part of the reason her stomach felt like twisting in on itself.

There was also the fact that she didn't know what was going on with her heart either. She was just in a confused daze, unsure of what her emotions were trying to tell her. Yet, she felt so alive.

The sound of the motorbike cut harshly through the rain, snapping Martisol's attention to the front door where soon, a ever-so familiar voice bellowed through the wood. She couldn't help but smile. He would make her feel better for a little while, at least. Get her mind off things.

"Hold your horses!"" She yelled back, playing along. Pushing off from where she was leaning against the window frame, she leisurely walked into the foyer to open the door, a polite smile on her face. "I'm afraid those deliveries are going to have to wait, sir. It's awful weather out, isn't it?" She said, grabbing his jacket and tugging him into the warm building.

One murder meets another, Julianna and Saxophone? Or are we sticking with our usual Nate and Rut haha?

[ Mick; asdf the first would be spiffy |: You starting or am I? And if it's me, I need some location ideas maaan. ]

AA

Tensetensetense. Maybe he should--no, no, not yet, Christ. There had to be another opportunity. Rutilus looked down at her, one corner of his mouth pulled up into that old smile; a crooked confidence he'd once displayed far more openly, still buried there beneath. The scent of vanilla was stronger now, but the coconut almost drowned it. He wasn't complaining.

"If y'don't mind," he nodded, lifting an arm slightly to study the drenched, almost transparent sleeves of his shirt. Rut chuckled, heart thumping, so loudly he was sure that she would hear it, standing so close to him. "But er, y'know, try an' contain yourself, the shirt's gonna have to come off." He looked at her with mock sternness, blue eyes straight into green. "No swoonin' an' fanning y'face."

He wondered, as he subtly searched those bright, emerald eyes, what she was thinking at that precise moment. Had her stomach flipped? Was her heart racing? Probably not, he supposed. He'd never seen any evidence that suggested he could have that effect on this woman in particular.

He seemed nervous, almost sad about something. She had this sense that he was holding back something. After years of being so close to him, she knew how to read him most of the time. He was still good at hiding certain things, but every once in a while she could just sense something in those eyes.

Eyes that were now locked on hers. For some reason, they would make her freeze. Those eyes would lock her into place for a moment. The very next moment, she would smile and laugh.

"No promises." She teased and patted his shoulder, turning to walk toward the hallway.

As she opened the door to the linen closet, she thought about how often she had seen him half-naked. It never made her want to faint or anything, but she had to admit she looked, when he wouldn't notice. What sane girl wouldn't? She never let herself think too much about it, though, trying to make sure she didn't get any ideas. Well, she did come to a conclusion that his body type was very pleasing to the eye. Not too thin, but not overly muscular to the point of ridiculousness...

Oh, what was she thinking? She shook her head slightly as she finally tugged a towel out of the stack, as if trying to shake the thought out of her head. Where did that come from? Was she desperate or something?

She came back into the living room, smiling slightly as if nothing had crossed her mind. She carried two towels in her arms. She laid one across the couch for him to sit his wet rump on, and held the other towel out for him. "Want me to hang the shirt up in the laundry room to dry?" She said, almost a side thought, being polite.

When Martisol realized he was having issues with his buttons, she almost reached out her hands to help him, but as soon as the thought came to her, he figured it out himself. As the now-translucent white shirt was peeled away, her eyes fell on that black sun tattoo. She knew that tattoo inside and out, could trace it in her mind. Yet, it still stood out in her mind as almost an act of bravery. She knew she would cringe away from the needle if she attempted to get a tattoo.

She gingerly took the soaked shirt from his hands, somewhat surprised at how neatly it was folded. She knew he was all messy, but she loved seeing his little quirks like this.

She also couldn't help but noticed how quickly he stepped away from her and sat down. Something was up. But she just smiled at him and turned back toward the hallway she just came from. "Oh no, it's perfectly fine." She said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear as stepped around the furniture.

Her bare feet hit the cold tile as she stepped into the laundry room. She started to simply hang the shirt up on one of the hangers, but had a second thought and instead grabbed a dryer sheet, throwing the clean-smelling object into the electric dryer along with the damp shirt. She turned the timer on the machine and smiled. Now his shirt would be dry and warm when Rutilus got it back. As warm as he was.

Turning off the light behind her and closing the door to gently, she stared down the hall at the back of Rutilus's head over the back of the couch. She could tell something was up. Something was wrong. He had something on his mind and it was troubling him. Was that why he came here so suddenly? So he himself could feel better? Do get whatever it was off his mind?

She sighed under her breath, not even audible to herself. Just air. Trying to relieve the constriction of worry off her chest.

Composing herself, she walked back into the living room, where she promptly sat herself next to him on the couch, far enough away but close enough to not be akward. She gathered her legs up to her chest, her feet digging into the cushions. She studied his face and body language, trying to make sense of things. She decided to just come out with it.

"Are you ok? Something seems wrong."

AA

Waiting for her was torture, since he only had the job of drying himself to keep him occupied until she returned. The damp towel was folded on the arm of the sofa once his body was dry, head tilting back against the sofa, cerulean eyes staring up at the ceiling. Was he out of order, he wondered, coming to her house with such stupid, fleeting ideas in mind?

Rutilus was oblivious to her gaze on him from the end of the hallway. He sat there and tapped his foot on the floor to the rhythm of the music playing quietly from the radio, tempted to get up and flick through the stations, see if he could find something else that he liked. Laziness, however, won him over and left him slumped where he was, eyelids threatening to flick closed. Long lashes - gone to waste on a man, better suited to a woman - brushed against high cheekbones, brief.

"Welcome back," was his slightly slurred greeting as the golden gypsy returned to him, seating herself farther away than he would have liked. In a perfect world, he could have pulled her over onto his lap and snuggled her for as long as he liked, watched stupid movies and fallen asleep half-way through with her, fed her icecream and pretzels and other ridicuolus things like that. In a perfect world. Then again, he suspected that he could do that anyway, if he was brave enough to try it.

Rutilus' eyes opened properly at the question. He'd been rather obvious. That, or she knew him far too well, which almost...frightened him a little. A chuckle escaped his throat. "Nah, nah, I'm fine." Quick, quick, an excuse... "Just--well Taliene's still missing. That's three months now." In reality, he wasn't worried about his sister, not at all now, and that...well, that made him feel like an asshole.

He sat up a bit straighter, arm over the back of the sofa as china-blue locked onto emerald-green again, fixing his gaze upon her. "Howcome yer all the way over there?"

Mick

Golden irises had followed that female since the moment they'd caught sight of her. What Saxophone had seen was the ascent; the spectacular, graceful leap that even she could not have performed. The agent was built for speed, yes, and agility, but she could never leap that high. Climbing was a stronger point of hers in comparison. Saxophone slowly shifted her weight, positioned at a crouch now, eyes fixed on the stranger as she straightened and adjusted her hair.

This was not an ordinary person, that much was obvious. To Saxophone's knowledge, humans even in this world did not roam rooftops at such late hours. Suspicion suddenly flared in her stomach and the agent searched her memory, scanned it for an image of this woman whose face she could see vaguely in the darkness. Was she an M.I. agent, following No.9, sent by Danforth? Saxophone had to know. Curiousity won her over and instead of dropping from the roof, climbing back down to ground level and disappearing into the night, she rose slowly to her feet and stared.

"This a hobby of yours?" was the question, expression forever displeased, suspicious. Saxophone's shoulders were tense, hands by her sides, curled into fists. In comparison to No.9, the stranger was much more...conventional looking, from what she could see. But why, Sax wondered all of a sudden, why was she jumping roofs in a dress?! "What're you doin'? Who y'work for?"

♥!!! I was wondering if this roleplay in particular would get lurkers. |:

That was certainly interesting, someone had not merely been curious about her because she had been roof jumping, they were interested in who she was. This person had the demeanour of someone dangerous, yet it was subtle. They looked to be someone who had similar training to her - another covert operative? That seemed likely, but the question was what agency. There was nothing that would indicate an attachment to the CIA, MI6, or any of the other agencies - known or unknown, but then their wouldn't be. Agents of any agency were expected to be able to provide cover constantly so as to maintain their covert status. She was unsure of how to play this, it was possible that she had caught this agent at home and thus they wouldn't be as well armed - or it was possible that this woman was armed, most presumably with a gun. Julianna was a very unique agent. She carried her dagger with her as opposed to a gun - except on missions where long range was key - then she brought her sniper rifle. She examined the other girl again, looking for any familiar postures or movements; she had learned the training methods of the agencies she encountered most often. This girl did not seem to have any of them. Perhaps she was merely paranoid, though there was little to suggest that.

"I was jumping roofs, I assumed that was fairly obvious," She answered, there was no real tone to her answer, neither interest nor disinterest. It was merely said. "As for who I work for...well, that depends on when you ask. My father sometimes, highest bidder the rest of the time." If there was one thing that Julianna did not do, it was lie when she had no reason to do so. If this was an agent and they reported what they saw, they would find out who she was anyway, and if they weren't, well, she might have use of an agent with her unique abilities and training. Julianna had been trained better than covert operatives usually were. They were electively trained, and they were trained as adults. Children were not generally agents of the governmental agencies. Julianna had spent the first thirteen years of her life being trained in various forms of fighting style - both unarmed and armed, had recieved advanced gun training, she had been trained to resist torture and had recieved training in all of her advanced technology. Well, she had been taught how to use it.
"And what of you? Who do you work for?" She asked in return, it was manners after all that if one were going to demand information, one would give a little back.

She chuckled as he touched her nose, a genuine sound for once. She looked at her arm, which was now resting across the back of the couch, still somewhat close to his head. Close to his lengthening hair. Of course, she had noticed how long his hair was before, but never really thought much about it. She wondered if he wanted it this long or if he just kept forgetting to get it cut, or worse couldn't afford it. She wanted to grab a comb from her bathroom and just brush through it, putting every hair back in its place...

She breathed out heavily at his question. Less of a sigh, more of a tired noise. Her eyes wandered from his face and hair to look to her side, where she could see through an archway into her dining room, her eyes fixing on a window where she could see the rain continuously pounding on the glass.

Drip, drip, drip.

Martisol's free arm wrapped around herself now, almost protectively. "I've just got... This feeling... I dunno what it is but I've had it for a few weeks... This bad feeling in my stomach that something's gonna happen. I've had this feeling before... Lots of times... Sometimes before... bad things... And sometimes nothing would happen." Her voice was quiet, detached. A touch of confusion and the tiniest hint of worry and fear.

Her eyes came back to look at him. "You ever get that feeling' sometimes?"

She let out a small, weak noise when he wrapped his arm around, and she gave into his embrace, resting her forehead on his bare shoulder. The rain.. his bare chest... his warmth... It all made her think of the night he woke her up so early in the morning to drag her into a freezing lake. She swore she almost got frostbite, but it was one of the best nights in her life. Spontaneous, something she hardly ever was. And afterwards she didn't want to let him go, simply because he was always warm.

She laughed, although it came out muffled. What was she worried about? No one was threatening her, there wasn't anything that should worry her. Rutilus seemed fine and Validus claimed to be alright. There was nothing to worry about.

"You're probably right. Just me bein' paranoid." She closed her eyes briefly, just enjoying his presence. They blinked open and she brought her head up so that her chin was now resting on his shoulder. Her eyes fell on a multitude of pictures hung on the wall behind him.

"Ya know, I'm surprised you came out here. I thought you hated rain. Didn't like goin' out in it."

Her ear was briefly pressed against his neck, where she caught a quick feel of his pulse. Had she imagined it or was it faster that it should have been? But then, his head moved and she couldn't confirm her thought. His lips were close to her ears now, reassuring her, but she was only catching the words as her mind froze.

When he released her somewhat, her expression was blank, but curious. Martisol looked up at his face, catching the look in his eyes. The blue wasn't as bright as usual, similar to what happened when Validus was upset, when his eyes would turn the color of hurricane clouds. But with Rutilus, sure his eyes were still that eye-catching bright blue, but there was something cloudy about them. As if looking through a mist.

At the bottom of her vision, she also caught a slight movement as his throat, causing her to narrow her eyes slightly. She wasn't as oblivious as some would think.

"Are you sure nothin's wrong?" She spoke gently, motherly. True concern. "Is there something you're really worried about?"

While he spoke, she watched him. She watched his fingers moving up and down in one of his little nervous habits. She could feel her own fingers itching to reach up to where her necklace usually was. Instead, they softly rubbed against each other instead of the amethyst.

She thought hard as she stared into his suddenly bright eyes. She couldn't look away. He was hiding something, obviously, giving a general response. She had some suspicions, nothing truly specific, but she feared jumping to a conclusion.

She thought about Jared. She didn't truly know him, just met him a couple of times when she came to visit Rutilus at his apartment, but what she knew was that he was a truly nice guy who must want the best for his brother.

She shifted her own position, just getting off her legs, making her lose height. She never took her gaze off his face, and the expression that was on it. "I guess it depends. If you think it's something you need to do, just do it. Maybe you won't regret it." She shrugged slightly. "But it's your choice. It's always your choice."

AA

His choice, no-one else's. He didn't have to do it if he felt it wasn't right and--well, it wasn't right, was it? Because he was so adamant that nothing could ever come of it, that they couldn't be together, that so many things could go wrong and he was so scared of losing her that he could never even take the chance. Rutilus' eyes flickered briefly to the place where that necklace usually rested, and then back up to meet those bright, emerald eyes.

"Right, then," he answered softly, and all of a sudden his hand was on the side of her face, thumb against a soft cheek, fingertips in blonde hair; he was tilting his head down to reach her and even if he had wanted to, he would not have been able to stop himself. The kiss was gentle, warm, almost unbearably sweet; his heart was pounding in his ears, it was going to escape, he was sure of it, so sure, and she was going to push him back and look horrified, ask what the fuck he was doing and why, and he would not be able to think of an answer...

Mick

The name did not ring any alarm bells in her mind, nor any other bells, and furthered Saxophone's belief that this agent, whoever she really was, was not a threat to her. The Initiative had no reason to have knowledge of any human organisations simply because they did not operate in that world; therefore Saxophone too knew nothing of them. She had previously been unaware of even the existence of the police, but Snake had educated her well; enabling her to blend...somewhat well in the human world. Sometimes, she slipped up; the concept of the internet was foreign to her too, or had been, until she had realised that in the east of the otherworld, technology was much more advanced and something very similar did exist.

The female shifted and looked the other woman over once more, lips thinning. "M'name?" she questioned, eyebrow arching upwards, as if surprised that this 'Julianna' would even ask - perhaps dare to ask. The stranger was a 'senior agent', an authority figure...and suddenly Sax realised that authority figures could never truly be trusted. Then again, she had no authority over the otherworldly agent. Hm. No.9 thought for several seconds and eventually, she gave the name that even Snake knew her by. "Sax." She had learned that to say 'Saxophone' in this place brought strange looks, and those were best avoided.

Then again, even 'Saxophone' was not her real name.

"You don't seem t'mind talkin' about yerself."

[sorry, double post. Internet acting up >>]

At first, she just stared at him, her chest and arms trembling out of her control. Her gaze wandered down, falling on the tattooed sun on his chest. He watched as his chest moved up and down, trying to match her own breaths with his. She took a second to collect her own thoughts, trying to figure out what had happened just then. Her head was spinning.

Her head lifted again when he kissed her forehead, her gaze locking on his, green meeting blue. Then he kissed her again. Shorter this time, and less dramatic, but it still made her heart jump in her chest, nearly wrecking what little composure she had recovered. She gulped and took a couple of deep breaths.

"I... I guess.. I did." She sounded astonished at herself. Sure, this wasn't the first time they had truly kissed, but it was much different than any before it. "I... did..." She froze. Her lips were still parted slightly, her eyes locked on his. Her irises held a look of curiosity.

What was going on? Was that just an automatic reaction? Or had she honestly kissed him back? She didn't remember being in control, but she knew she didn't stop herself.

She had. She had! She had actually kissed him back!

Blinking once or twice, she tried to bring herself to focus, but it wasn't helping. Her lips opened slightly more, as if to speak, but nothing escaped her mouth.

[edit: Sorry. Wanted to rewrite some parts...]

As he moved away, she leaned into the back cushions of the couch, crossing her arms on the top and burying her face in them. She was finally collecting herself as her heartrate slowed down.

Maybe she overreacted. Had she overreacted? Was there any reason for her to suddenly get shaky and nervous?

She thought about that feeling she had right before she kissed him back. It was as if her heart was being... Freed from something. That was what startled her the most. The kiss was very simple, but she could tell in her heart it had more than just "simple."

She stared at him while he spoke. She just wanted to ask, see if he said those three words. But she couldn't make herself ask.

Instead, her head came up to rest on her arms instead of half-buried in them. She had a gentle smile on her face, her eyes half-open with an affectionate look in them. "That was it, wasn't it? What you and Jared were talking 'bout. Your 'something spontaneous'? That something you might regret?"

The smile disappeared and her eyes opened fully, but her face still held a look of gentle curiosity.

So what does this make us?

"Do... Do you regret it?"

[edit: Sorry again. OCD wanting me to rewrite a couple of sentences real quick. Fix some wording.]

AA

The way she gazed at him made him want to kiss her all over again. The distance between them was going to drive him insane, he was sure of it. Should he move over again, pull her to him? No, no, not yet. He could wait.

Rutilus half-chuckled when she spoke, correct as usual. He didn't answer her verbally; nodded instead, let her know that she was absoloutely right - and then her smile faded abruptly, making him worry. The taller swallowed, sun-tattooed chest rising as he shifted, sitting up straighter, worried now. Had he fucked up? She'd seemed so content a few seconds ag--

Ah.

Unable to help himself, the goldrose laughed and shook his head, strands of hair irritating his eyes; he flicked them away. "God, no," he insisted, looking right at her, blue irises warm; a tropical ocean. "No, I don't regret it at all."

Again he fidgeted, shifted, leaning slightly closer to her, arm stretched over the back of the sofa. "...D'you wish I hadn't?" Rutilus questioned, eyebrows twitching together in a brief frown. "'Cause it was--gonna happen someday." Quite blunt - but it was the truth.

Mick

The surprise on the female's face brought a rare bark of laughter from between thin lips. No.9 shook her head, waving a hand dismissively to indicate that no, she would not have preferred to be lied to. Saxophone liked having information - and not just because it could often be used against people. Frequently, she just found herself interested in the lives of people that were not her.

Saxophone shifted and found herself unable to keep still any longer; she began pacing again, not quite relaxed but certainly not as terribly tense as she had been initially. The trenchcoat flapped gently at her ankles, and then more flamboyantly as the wind picked up for a few seconds. Strands of white danced and curled atop the agent's head; briefly, she readjusted her fringe, tried to flatten it down, and failed miserably.

"Depends on th' questions," was the eventual response, keen eyes flicking to stare over the edge of the roof, look downward. There were so few lights on in the surrounding houses now; when was the 'dead hour' in this world? Saxophone understood that artificial light meant activity. "Depends on who's askin', but you ain't a threat." Her head snapped up, suspicious as she backed away from the edge, suddenly afraid of being pushed over. "...If you are, you should lemme know now, man, get it over an' done with."

But she was half-smiling, which meant she didn't really think it a possibility.

AA

Ah, he'd known she would never have made the first move; he would never expect such a thing from her. Just as those pretty, bright eyes rested upon their almost-touching hands, blue irises joined them, gazing calmly, curiously. Their fingers would have fitted perfectly together, he was sure of it; hers delicate, soft - his long, rough.

Should he take her hand, he wondered, lock them together? Rutilus feared the intimacy of it, the closeness. He was sure she would not have flinched away, but there was an...expression of curiousity still held in those emerald crystals, asking silent questions that the golden gypsy had not voiced.

Her playfulness caught him off-guard; Rutilus laughed, head cocking to the side, crooked smirk tugging at his lips. Remnants of an old persona came fleeting back to him, mind recalling the confident, fearless young man he had once been, comparing it to the reckless, awkward, conflicted creature that he had become.

"Don't know," Rutilus sighed dramatically, gaze settled contentedly upon her face. He took in the faint smile, the mirth in her eyes, the strands of hair that stubbornly slipped away from where she had tucked them safely behind her ear. He drowned himself in a green field, suffocated in the honeyed atmosphere. "You wanna be kissed again?" Still with such a playful tone, but he was hopeful; secretly serious.

I fucking love you.

Had she been waiting for this to happen? Rutilus wondered if she had thought it, predicted it, dreamed it. He certainly had. Had she ever talked about it with someone, or had she - as Rutilus himself had previously done - stayed in denial, insisting that nothing would ever happen between them, that they were friends and nothing more?

Julianna snorted at that one. This 'Sax' person had called her not a threat and yet was aware she was highly trained by some sort of shadowy unknown agency. This one was either extremely well trained, or flippant. She would allow the behaviour were it the former, but were it the latter and she had the feeling it may well have been she would feel the need to correct her mistake - through force if need be. If she was not a threat, a lion was a cat. That was the kind of metaphor that applied. Being called not a threat annoyed her, made her feel powerless and after that event. After the betrayal of that woman, she would not be so powerless again. She had resolved her self, steeled her will and muscles. She had become a warrior of equal prowess if not greater than that woman and she would kill her if she got the chance. She was such a threat to this woman because if Sax was more of a threat than she was and they fought, she would lose and she would die. She would not complete her mission. She was indeed, a threat. Hostile, on the other hand, she was not.
"I am a threat," Julianna answered, "I am merely not currently a threat to you...I am however competitive...and intrigued I must admit...so if you are of a similar intrigue...I wouldn't mind testing out our skills."

That was a little bit of a lie, competitive she was and she was intrigued but that was not the main reason behind the offer of a little "friendly competition". The best way to learn about an agent was that way, the mannerisms that they used in travel or in single comabt when there was no real danger told a lot. That was why Julianna never used the same mannerism twice. She had learned an adaptive strategy that allowed her to move as her instructor used to say "with the fluidity of water, and with the grace of a swan, and the bite of a lion". Her father was fond of such image inducing speech. He read a lot of high fantasy. She smirked a little at the memory but had covered the smile with a subtle flick of her hair to draw attention away. She noticed that the other had a similar snowy white hair colour to she. That was comforting. It was rare to see white hair that wasn't on the elderly.

Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Martisol stretched her neck up to let her lips meet his. She could hear her heart cheering her on in her ears. Adrenaline coursed through her now, she could feel herself shaking on the inside. Wether it was from nervousness or excitement, she didn't know.

Her arms, almost reflexively, came up to rest on his shoulders when he pulled her to him. Her fingers wrapped around them, feeling the strength and solidness of them. She couldn't help but admire that now. But didn't she now have the right to do so? To admire everything about him? Ever inch, every detail?

Yes. Now she could. She didn't have to hold back.

No turning back now.

She was no longer aware of anything else, not even the fact that her heart felt like it was about to jump into her throat. She couldn't feel that strange gut feeling anymore. The pounding of the rain was matching the beating of her heart, the sounds mixing and intertwining.

The gypsy's soul was floating away in utter bliss. How could she suddenly be so happy? Maybe she did love him. Maybe that's why her heart had never been open to anyone. Now it was free. 

Tha-dump!Snap!Tha-dump!

Her lips smiled against his, a soft giggle coming out against her will.

Two pairs of eyes stared at each other for the shortest number of seconds, but to Martisol, it felt much longer. Her eyes were locked on his again,  that smile still on her face. Her gaze would try to wander from those cerulean irises on occasion, but it would barely get past the corner of his eyes before they snapped back to his enlarged pupils. She was drowning in the blue.

Her gaze was broken when Rutilus leaned away. At first, she was somewhat disappointed, but her heart skipped when she realized he was beckoning her over to him. Without hesitation, she scooted over to him, taking his outstretched hand to pull herself closer. She leaned against his chest, soaking in the sunshine-like warmth he gave. It might have been raining outside, but she had her own sun right here.

You're takin' this very well. She thought about her answer for a second, trying to explain it to herself. Her eyes focused on the sun-tattoo right in front of her now. She watched his chest rise and fall before taking a deep breath and answering.

"Well... I think this has kinda been in the back of my mind since... A little bit after I came back I guess. A couple o' months ago. I was surprised you were still here, and that you were still willing to stick by me." She paused and took another breath, trying to relax her racing heart. "I... I guess there was always that possibility that you and I felt... more than we gave ourselves credit for. That we felt more than just friendship. If that makes sense. But I never let myself think too much about that possibility... Afraid to jump to a conclusion."

Pausing, the gypsy turned her head up to look at his face. "But now... I guess I wanted to know how it felt. To really feel more." And I think I do feel more. She was having a hard time finding the words to explain. Taking another shaky breath, she shook her head and looked back at that tattoo. "I'm sorry. I probably sound stupid."

Closing her eyes at the mention of that "someone else", she felt her gut twist slightly in guilt. She sighed quietly, somewhat burying her face in his chest. She had thought about that, too, but she knew it was hopeless. Her head lifted again, her eyes coming up to meet his. "I don't think... that would've worked out anyway, so don't worry about it."

There was silence then, and she could hear the rain picking up speed. To her, it was less of a bad sign and more of nature saying 'You aren't getting out of this easily. Figure out what's going on! This is your one chance.'

At that moment, she felt him shift under her. Assuming he was simply uncomfortable in that position, she lifted herself up from his chest slightly, still securely in his arms, to give him a chance to move, but then she saw his face.

Rutilus's expression and eyes startled her. He had the same nervous look that his face had held only... What? A few minutes ago? 10 minutes ago? Was he worried that she was going to reject him?

Hesitantly, her left hand reached for his face. It stopped a few centimeters away.

She spoke quietly now, trying to make her tone sound reassuring. "But that doesn't matter anymore. It's in the past. It doesn't matter because..."

The lifted left hand finally came to rest on his cheek, pushing some of his messy hair out of the face she had come to love over the years.

Her voice was only just audible over the rain. It was shaky, nervous, but serious and filled with the truth. "... Because what I want now is you."

Another surprise kiss, but this time she was ready. Her left hand fell from his face when he moved and the whole arm came up to wrap around his neck, holding herself to him. Her other hand came up to rest on his right shoulder again.

She was suddenly aware of everything at the same time. The way his right pressed into her back, encouraging her on, his left fingers lightly on her neck, making her shudder, his lips against hers, making her heart skip and run.

His lips moved briefly, as if trying to say something. But she could not hear anything, nor could she figure out what he said by the way his lips mouthed the inaudible words. Even though she wanted to know what he was trying to say, she proceeded to forget about it, for the moment at least, when his lips pressed against hers again.

When they finally came up for air, she was smiling right back at him. For a moment, she just took in his smile, soaked in his warmth. She could stay there forever, secure in his arms.

Then she did something she would have never dared to do before. She stretched up and kissed him herself. Twice. Once on the cheek and once on the lips. They were very short kisses, almost just pecks, but they felt liberating to her. She was the one kissing him.

She had no more words. She just contently leaned against his chest, looking up at his face, her left arm still around his neck, the fingers of her right hand brushing through his hair. A calm, sweet drowsiness came upon her, and she thought how nice it would be to fall asleep right there in his arms.

But at the same time, her mind wanted to race and thoughts were being thrown at her left and right. What was going to happen in the morning light? Would they regret what had happened? She hoped not. She wanted this more than anything now. But she tried to push those thoughts aside and focus on his familiar, handsome face and the feeling of safety he gave her now.

(Too many worrddsss)

(Sorry for bumping but I had no where else to put this. -shifty eyes-)