[ His go-to response to her admission would've been, 'don't get used to it', but Wanderer doesn't say it. The fact remains that, so long as she continues to follow him in his travels, he will brew her green tea to drink. Humans are fragile beings; without warmth, they can't survive. She is fortunate that he is considerate enough to look after her.
(...is what he tells himself. Wanderer refuses to acknowledge that it brings him satisfaction to see her comfortable and well-fed each night. He may gripe about cooking, but he is surprisingly skilled in it. And with Mona's finances being a mess, she's clearly in need of the extra care.) ]
Then, enjoy it now, [ he says, turning away slightly to obscure his expression. ] The cold front will make tonight difficult for you. Without a campfire, this mug and a blanket will be your only source of warmth.
[ no, he cannot accept compliments....... that's embarrassing ]
[ It's become easier for her to admit that she doesn't mind accompanying him on his travels. As long as she has time for her research (which traveling does, indeed, help her with), as long as she can continue her drafts for The Steambird, and as long as she has her basic needs met...it's not so bad. Wanderer, surprisingly, makes sure that she's taken care of. He is, admittedly, better in the kitchen than she is, in any case. Mona truly is fortunate, even if that's a fact he'll have to pry out of her someday.
Wanderer presents his question, almost like it's a challenge. She huffs . ]
Of course I'll be able to. I've lived through colder temperatures before.
[ ...with more things to keep her warm, that is. He's right in that she only has the mug and her blanket.
It won't be enough, and she knows that. But there isn't anything either of them can do to really fix that. She'll be fine, she tells herself. He's lucky that the cold won't bother him. ]
[ Her question gives him pause. For a majority of his existence, he has had to squash vulnerable feelings towards others. It is what caused him to be abandoned originally—his mother saw no use out of a puppet that could shed tears. Wanderer's feelings were an error in his making; it was best to not experience emotion at all. That is what he told himself again and again.
...Or so he thought.
Buer and the Traveler had done their part in unravelling his past. Emotions he had long since buried resurfaced, and the pain, the misery he had felt for centuries, were exposed to the air like open wounds. And having been in his head, Buer knew what to do—the... fixation he has on Mona didn't go unnoticed, and she had assigned Mona to be his watchdog afterwards. He knew that this was her attempt at healing him.
It's true; Wanderer is concerned for Mona, just as he had been for the small boy and the humans ravaged by fire. ]
[ ...is her immediate response. It's quick, it's natural, but perhaps unfamiliar in the way she cuts herself off. This is where she would finish her sentence, insist that she's stronger than he thinks, but she's stunned by the way he answers her question. He doesn't deny that he's concerned. He admits that he is.
It's probably the most heartfelt thing he's told her thus far. Something stirs in her chest at his reply.
He cares. He cares and she knows it, now. It's why her defenses seem to lower in how she relaxes her shoulders, in how her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. Mona clears her throat, trying to cover up for her little fumble but failing to do so nevertheless. ]
Y-you don't have to worry so much. [ Her voice is quieter, now. ] I know we're quite different, but I'll be alright.
[ There's a pause. ]
I'm fully capable of returning the favor, too, you know.
[ He expects it, too, Mona's agitated huff and upturned nose. However, that response instead transitions into something much softer. She's hesitating, and Wanderer wonders if it would be better to cut this conversation short and put distance between them again. He could make a cutting remark, turn away and play it off as a cruel joke at her expense.
But he doesn't.
Beside him, Wanderer can see her cheeks pinken. Mona then clears her throat in that typical way of hers, but when she speaks, her voice is noticeably lower. ]
Different... [ He repeats. ] I don't think you know how far that difference goes.
[ It's a vague reply. Is she aware that there is no heart beating in his chest? Has she noticed at all? Wanderer refuses to ask.
Silently, one gloved hand comes forward to grasp her chin. He tilts her head towards him, forcing Mona to look into his eyes. And for a wavering moment, he silently observes her, his brow furrowed slightly and a small frown setting his features. ]
Is she aware? She thinks she is. She knows that Wanderer doesn't need sustenance. He doesn't get cold. Many things that would threaten her health are more like minor inconveniences to him. Even so, however, she remains unaware of the lack of a heart -- perhaps that simply means he's exemplified something akin to having one, so much so that she hasn't noticed.
The biggest difference between them, Mona thinks, much to her chagrin, is that he is far better at masking -- or perhaps not even feeling much at all -- than she is. She's trying to will away the flush on her cheeks, trying to pull her expression back to something neutral.
And then his hand touches her chin, forces her to look at him. It's her worst nightmare right now. The way her heart races is yet another thing she'd like to will away, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
And her heart would very much like to close the gap between them and -- ]
Y-you--
[ No. Ignore it, Mona. You're simply entranced because of the proximity, there is nothing else to it.
... Or, so she thinks. If it were that simple, she wouldn't be a sputtering mess. She can't even speak. She's just that red in the face. ]
[ She sputters rather than answering his question, her eyes wide enough he thinks he can see the galaxy in her irises. It reminds Wanderer of when she uses her magic—that small sliver of starry sky she summons at will, glistening and bright as if she pulled it directly from the heavens. The pearlescent hue is similar and just as captivating. Could it be that Mona feels just as entranced by his own?
He can recognize the flush having settled in her cheeks, the way her lips part as she stares back at him. Those thick black brows of hers have also drawn up in apprehension. Truly, she appears to be speechless. ]
...Mona.
[ Breaking the spell, he soon lowers himself to close the distance between their faces. She can't escape, can't pull away—not with her chin between his fingers. And after pausing for only a fraction of a second, peering into her features once, Wanderer leans in—
...and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
It's soft, the slightest pressure. A brush of his lips at most. Then, he draws back only an inch. ]
Because you're weak, I'll allow you to cling to me tonight. My warmth should be enough.
[ Wanderer gets closer, closer, and her eyes naturally close in anticipation. He's going to kiss her, isn't he? There's no other explanation for it, even if the stars couldn't have foretold this development –
the kiss happens in a way she doesn't expect. No, it's not a rough press of lips to hers like she thought it would be in that split second. Instead, it's a gentle, feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Her breathing grows a little heavier as her expression contorts into something utterly embarrassing. Her cheeks are undeniably red now, and she places her fingers on top of where Wanderer's lips brushed against hers ]
Y-you – I'm not weak!
[ Clinging isn't unwelcome. His warmth isn't, either. None of that diffuses her need to prove herself to him and show him that she means what she says.
Without giving it much thought, Mona grabs him by the collar and draws him in for a proper, actual kiss. Her lips firmly plant themselves onto his, and she holds it there for a second or two before she pulls away.
Mona puffs up despite herself, pouting in his direction. ]
T...there. See? I-I'm stronger than you think I am.
[ Having genuinely thought he had overwhelmed her, Wanderer can only make a small grunt of surprise as she curls her fingers into his kimono and drags him into a kiss. It's—quick, immeasurably soft. His fingers twitch outwards at his sides in disbelief, and for a moment, he can only stare at her reddened face, now so close to his that he can see her individual eyelashes.
Those two seconds feel both short and very long. Even when Mona releases him, he still feels caught up in her force, the warm pressure of her lips on his. If he had a heart, it'd surely be pounding in his chest from adrenaline. ]
...Hah.
[ Wanderer eventually manages a small huff of a laugh, drawing back slightly to study her face. ]
I should know better by now than to underestimate you.
[ Just as he thought, Mona Megistus continues to surprise him. She has always been different—if not his equal, then somehow a step ahead of him. Wanderer refuses to believe in her foolish stars, but there may be a single truth in them: he is destined to be wrapped around her littlest finger. ]
[ These two seconds are incredibly long for her, too. She has to close her eyes and pull herself in – does she regret it? Hm. The pompous part of her wants to shake her and scream and talk about how humiliating that must seem.
The core part of Mona Megistus, however, doesn't regret it at all. That side of her is what's evident, what's showing on her very flushed face and in how she looks back at him with some sort of determination in her eyes. What that determination is for is unclear, but it takes her a moment to reply to his retort with a scoff of her own. ]
Of course. Why, it isn't as if we've been traveling together for weeks now.
[ Looks like her bite's returned. Good, she thinks. She doesn't have to look like a coward in front of him anymore, even if it means suppressing the urge to run away and hide. ]
Victory is very clearly mine.
[ As if this were a competition. She says it with a small smirk on her lips, but her cheeks are still giving way to how flustered she truly is. ]
[ At one point, he considered her prideful demeanor frustrating—he wanted all to kneel before him as a Harbinger—but now her attempt at bravado is simply endearing. Wanderer can't help the low chuckle from leaving his chest as he reaches out to cup her cheeks in his palms, running the pad of one thumb over her skin.
Like her lips, they're soft, too.
Wanderer has lived centuries; he isn't inexperienced by any means, but it is very much different for there to be... affection in his body language, his expression. Long ago, when he'd gone by a different name, he allowed himself to feel this way. Those distinctly human feelings are resurfacing now. ]
'Victory'. Say it like that, and I might take it away from you.
[ (Un)luckily for him, Mona Megistus bows to no one. ... Or so her demeanor would suggest, but those who know her well – like he does at this point – know that she'll submit to the right people. He, however, aggravates her so much that it helps her fight back and use her sharp tongue to rile him up as much as she can.
Ironically, this is one of the rarer moments in which Wanderer is starting to draw something more submissive out of her, with how he touches her cheek, how his eyes soften. It's unusual for him to look this way. She's never seen it on him before, let alone see him offer to make her bed for her. He's always been one to let her take care of herself, which she's never had a problem with, but now...he's offering to do something so gentle for her. It does nothing to quell her embarrassment.
Mona will not stop him, though. Instead, she just looks down at her tea, averting her gaze so it doesn't stay on his anymore. ]
Fine, so long as you call me by my name. Just this once.
[ It's phrased like it's a quip, and it is – but she also just wants to hear him say it, even if it's only for tonight. Even if he never calls her Mona ever again. ]
[ After gazing into his eyes for that brief moment, Mona looks away at last. Her long, black lashes cast faint shadows against her colored cheeks, the green of her eyes vivid against her skin. And when she speaks, there's that familiar prideful edge, like she isn't flushing under his stare or allowing him to caress her face. He is sure that if he were to lean in closer, she would lose that thinly-veiled composure and fluster further. It's almost tempting, but he'll give her that grace.
Wanderer can't help but snort to himself. If Mona had managed to continue peering up at him, she would've caught a surprisingly soft expression. ]
Fufu... You sound like a child.
[ Mona's selfish demand is terribly innocent. It reminds Wanderer of the unnamed boy from long ago, whom he had coddled and nursed. That small human had also made demands such as this one; 'sing to me or I won't sleep' or 'play with me and I'll peel fruits with you'. ]
Drink the remainder of your tea, Mona. [ There's an amusing lilt in his voice. ] And then prepare for bed.
[ His thumb strokes over her cheek once before Wanderer releases her entirely. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
(...is what he tells himself. Wanderer refuses to acknowledge that it brings him satisfaction to see her comfortable and well-fed each night. He may gripe about cooking, but he is surprisingly skilled in it. And with Mona's finances being a mess, she's clearly in need of the extra care.) ]
Then, enjoy it now, [ he says, turning away slightly to obscure his expression. ] The cold front will make tonight difficult for you. Without a campfire, this mug and a blanket will be your only source of warmth.
[ no, he cannot accept compliments....... that's embarrassing ]
Do you think you can manage it?
no subject
Wanderer presents his question, almost like it's a challenge. She huffs . ]
Of course I'll be able to. I've lived through colder temperatures before.
[ ...with more things to keep her warm, that is. He's right in that she only has the mug and her blanket.
It won't be enough, and she knows that. But there isn't anything either of them can do to really fix that. She'll be fine, she tells herself. He's lucky that the cold won't bother him. ]
... You're concerned, aren't you?
i am FREE
...Or so he thought.
Buer and the Traveler had done their part in unravelling his past. Emotions he had long since buried resurfaced, and the pain, the misery he had felt for centuries, were exposed to the air like open wounds. And having been in his head, Buer knew what to do—the... fixation he has on Mona didn't go unnoticed, and she had assigned Mona to be his watchdog afterwards. He knew that this was her attempt at healing him.
It's true; Wanderer is concerned for Mona, just as he had been for the small boy and the humans ravaged by fire. ]
...You are frailer than you think.
[ He sets down his mug. ]
and then i took 5ever to reply
[ ...is her immediate response. It's quick, it's natural, but perhaps unfamiliar in the way she cuts herself off. This is where she would finish her sentence, insist that she's stronger than he thinks, but she's stunned by the way he answers her question. He doesn't deny that he's concerned. He admits that he is.
It's probably the most heartfelt thing he's told her thus far. Something stirs in her chest at his reply.
He cares. He cares and she knows it, now. It's why her defenses seem to lower in how she relaxes her shoulders, in how her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. Mona clears her throat, trying to cover up for her little fumble but failing to do so nevertheless. ]
Y-you don't have to worry so much. [ Her voice is quieter, now. ] I know we're quite different, but I'll be alright.
[ There's a pause. ]
I'm fully capable of returning the favor, too, you know.
grabs you and squeezes
But he doesn't.
Beside him, Wanderer can see her cheeks pinken. Mona then clears her throat in that typical way of hers, but when she speaks, her voice is noticeably lower. ]
Different... [ He repeats. ] I don't think you know how far that difference goes.
[ It's a vague reply. Is she aware that there is no heart beating in his chest? Has she noticed at all? Wanderer refuses to ask.
Silently, one gloved hand comes forward to grasp her chin. He tilts her head towards him, forcing Mona to look into his eyes. And for a wavering moment, he silently observes her, his brow furrowed slightly and a small frown setting his features. ]
How would you return it?
ratshakes these two
Is she aware? She thinks she is. She knows that Wanderer doesn't need sustenance. He doesn't get cold. Many things that would threaten her health are more like minor inconveniences to him. Even so, however, she remains unaware of the lack of a heart -- perhaps that simply means he's exemplified something akin to having one, so much so that she hasn't noticed.
The biggest difference between them, Mona thinks, much to her chagrin, is that he is far better at masking -- or perhaps not even feeling much at all -- than she is. She's trying to will away the flush on her cheeks, trying to pull her expression back to something neutral.
And then his hand touches her chin, forces her to look at him. It's her worst nightmare right now. The way her heart races is yet another thing she'd like to will away, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
And her heart would very much like to close the gap between them and -- ]
Y-you--
[ No. Ignore it, Mona. You're simply entranced because of the proximity, there is nothing else to it.
... Or, so she thinks. If it were that simple, she wouldn't be a sputtering mess. She can't even speak. She's just that red in the face. ]
no subject
He can recognize the flush having settled in her cheeks, the way her lips part as she stares back at him. Those thick black brows of hers have also drawn up in apprehension. Truly, she appears to be speechless. ]
...Mona.
[ Breaking the spell, he soon lowers himself to close the distance between their faces. She can't escape, can't pull away—not with her chin between his fingers. And after pausing for only a fraction of a second, peering into her features once, Wanderer leans in—
...and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
It's soft, the slightest pressure. A brush of his lips at most. Then, he draws back only an inch. ]
Because you're weak, I'll allow you to cling to me tonight. My warmth should be enough.
no subject
the kiss happens in a way she doesn't expect. No, it's not a rough press of lips to hers like she thought it would be in that split second. Instead, it's a gentle, feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Her breathing grows a little heavier as her expression contorts into something utterly embarrassing. Her cheeks are undeniably red now, and she places her fingers on top of where Wanderer's lips brushed against hers ]
Y-you – I'm not weak!
[ Clinging isn't unwelcome. His warmth isn't, either. None of that diffuses her need to prove herself to him and show him that she means what she says.
Without giving it much thought, Mona grabs him by the collar and draws him in for a proper, actual kiss. Her lips firmly plant themselves onto his, and she holds it there for a second or two before she pulls away.
Mona puffs up despite herself, pouting in his direction. ]
T...there. See? I-I'm stronger than you think I am.
no subject
Those two seconds feel both short and very long. Even when Mona releases him, he still feels caught up in her force, the warm pressure of her lips on his. If he had a heart, it'd surely be pounding in his chest from adrenaline. ]
...Hah.
[ Wanderer eventually manages a small huff of a laugh, drawing back slightly to study her face. ]
I should know better by now than to underestimate you.
[ Just as he thought, Mona Megistus continues to surprise him. She has always been different—if not his equal, then somehow a step ahead of him. Wanderer refuses to believe in her foolish stars, but there may be a single truth in them: he is destined to be wrapped around her littlest finger. ]
CRAWLS BACK
The core part of Mona Megistus, however, doesn't regret it at all. That side of her is what's evident, what's showing on her very flushed face and in how she looks back at him with some sort of determination in her eyes. What that determination is for is unclear, but it takes her a moment to reply to his retort with a scoff of her own. ]
Of course. Why, it isn't as if we've been traveling together for weeks now.
[ Looks like her bite's returned. Good, she thinks. She doesn't have to look like a coward in front of him anymore, even if it means suppressing the urge to run away and hide. ]
Victory is very clearly mine.
[ As if this were a competition. She says it with a small smirk on her lips, but her cheeks are still giving way to how flustered she truly is. ]
HOLDS YOU
Like her lips, they're soft, too.
Wanderer has lived centuries; he isn't inexperienced by any means, but it is very much different for there to be... affection in his body language, his expression. Long ago, when he'd gone by a different name, he allowed himself to feel this way. Those distinctly human feelings are resurfacing now. ]
'Victory'. Say it like that, and I might take it away from you.
[ He doesn't like losing, either. ]
Finish your tea, mage. I'll prepare your bed.
no subject
Ironically, this is one of the rarer moments in which Wanderer is starting to draw something more submissive out of her, with how he touches her cheek, how his eyes soften. It's unusual for him to look this way. She's never seen it on him before, let alone see him offer to make her bed for her. He's always been one to let her take care of herself, which she's never had a problem with, but now...he's offering to do something so gentle for her. It does nothing to quell her embarrassment.
Mona will not stop him, though. Instead, she just looks down at her tea, averting her gaze so it doesn't stay on his anymore. ]
Fine, so long as you call me by my name. Just this once.
[ It's phrased like it's a quip, and it is – but she also just wants to hear him say it, even if it's only for tonight. Even if he never calls her Mona ever again. ]
no subject
Wanderer can't help but snort to himself. If Mona had managed to continue peering up at him, she would've caught a surprisingly soft expression. ]
Fufu... You sound like a child.
[ Mona's selfish demand is terribly innocent. It reminds Wanderer of the unnamed boy from long ago, whom he had coddled and nursed. That small human had also made demands such as this one; 'sing to me or I won't sleep' or 'play with me and I'll peel fruits with you'. ]
Drink the remainder of your tea, Mona. [ There's an amusing lilt in his voice. ] And then prepare for bed.
[ His thumb strokes over her cheek once before Wanderer releases her entirely. ]