chef_chocobro | MHA #18; Saturday Evening [10/07].

Entry tags:

MHA #18; Saturday Evening [10/07].

Even though it seemed like this week had provided copious examples of attempts to the contrary, it turned out that Ignis actually couldn't spend all his spare time with Liliana and would, in fact, spend time with other people, too. Well, with the other person he spent all of his spare time with. He certainly wouldn't want to overstay his welcome, and they were both clearly the sort of people who had lives beyond the blissful bubble of each other's company that they'd come to discover and had other things to do that day...

...Well, it seemed Liliana did, anyway. Ignis...had a make-up training session to attend to to appease his roommate, after which there was to be take-out because he was quite frankly a little exhausted and wanted to unwind a little with food made by someone else for a change and a glass of wine. And to at least make a marginal attempt to distract himself from wanting to be somewhere else and in different company again already.

No offense, of course, to Gladio.

"So," said Gladio from the couch, no doubt already leaving dusting of rice from his take-out container around where he sat, "what should I put on? Cooking shows to make you mad, or sports shows to make me mad?"

Okay, he took that back. Some offense to Gladio, after all.

[[ for those who know who they are and with some helpful little morsels of OCD like the rice Iggy'll find in the couch cushions later; CW for someone almost fucking dying ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And through that," Ignis guessed, his voice reflecting hers in its softly, "you were able to pull yourself back?"

"He wished to use his glow to kill me," Liliana said, voice resolute and unforgiving. "I decided to use it to stay alive, instead." Then, in a drawl. "I am aware of the irony, yes."

"I much prefer your application," Ignis stated firmly, letting it be known for the record where he was going to stand on the matter.

"I was...tempted," she murmured. Or, well, had been tempted. "To do that. Earlier. Before he arrived. But I wasn't sure--" She idly rubbed a washcloth over her leg, a moment. "When I've done that before, it was until either they were dead or I was completely healed. And this seemed like a poor time to experiment."

There was a long, long pause after that, so long that maybe Liliana might have started to suspect that Ignis might not say anything at all, but then, he did.

"You would have only been doinv," he said, his words very slow and steady and chosen with heavy, deliberate intent, "what needed to be done."

"I likely would have," she said, looking dead at him, making no bones about it. She was who she was, Ignis. And you should know that. "Rather than dying. But then Stark tried--and I no longer worried about if I could stop."

She was who she was.

And Ignis was who he, and she should know that by now, surely. It was a combination that did not bode well for him any way you sliced it, and yet he found it impossible to actually care.

If he'd known...

...but it would seem his ignorance actually had worked in his favor for once, and he had a hard time feeling bad about that, too.

He hadn't even asked; he just assumed...

He'd gotten off easy.

"Come on," Ignis said, speaking after enough time that it got caught in his throat a little, as he shifted around a new complicated tangle of emotions that was going to be quite the task to unravel, "let's get you put of this quickly cooling water and into some nice, warm clothes, on a good soft bed..."

Liliana let him help her out of the bath, wrap her in a towel, and lead her into his bedroom. Silent and thoughtful, but also absolutely exhausted. Sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting for him to hand over pajamas, she said, almost too quietly to be heard - well, by anybody but Ignis anyway - "I would have asked. For you, I would have asked."

Gladio, too. Depending on how desperate she'd been. But that was more out of enlightened self-interest than because she actually cared for permission.

But Ignis, she would have asked.

Ignis' hands, shiftinv and searching through a dresser drawer, stopped at that. The pause lingered, before his head turned her way. Just for a moment, and he turned back, selecting a pair of silken pajamas with, almost purely out of coincidence, a deep purple paisley pattern on them.

"You wouldn't have had to," he said, probably unnecessarily, "but I appreciate that.

"These," he then said, handing the pajamas out for her, "have always fit a bit snug, so I'm sure they'll be a suitable enough fit."

Don't encourage her worst instincts, Ignis. That was how Darkfire happened.

Liliana stood, letting the towel fall from her body, and reached for the pajamas. Look, even if Ignis couldn't appreciate it visually, Liliana was a woman of drama and aesthetics. "Such quality," she murmured with clear approval. Again, their fingers brush, her fingers much warmer than they'd been before the bath. "Thank you," she murmured. "I didn't--" Again, that pause, but this time she pushed on and made herself finish. "I didn't know where else to go. Other than to my house, but I would have been alone."

Oh, worry not. The effect was not lost at all; Ignis could greatly appreciate that soft, subtle sound of the towel hitting the floor and pooling at her feet.

And his fingers lingered against hers as much as they could, appreciating that newfound warmth in them even more than the touch itself.

His head shook lightly. "I'm glad you came here," he said. "I'm glad I could be here for you."

Even as utterly and dismally ineffective and unhelpful as he may have been.

The whisper of silk being drawn over skin, and then she stepped forward, cupping his face and brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. "I am not used to having someone to whom I could go." She pulled his face down for a soft kiss, first his mouth and then his forehead. "I'll try not to overstay my welcome."

"Impossible," Ignis insisted lightly, resting his forehead against Liliana's as he brushed a hand through her hair at her shoulders, as if arranging it a little so it fell just so, just right. "You're welcome for as long as you need...

"Or as long as you want, anyway," he amended. "It'll only be a matter of time before my roommate attempts to drag you into early morning runs."

"Absolutely not," Liliana declared, her hands falling to his shoulders. "Before noon, you know I cannot be held responsible for my actions."

Don't make her move back to her place to 'sleep in' until the construction started.

"Just promise me one thing," Ignis said, smiling for what felt like the first time in a while, still a faint light thing, because it was still Ignis, but warm and calling up the those halcyon hours of their actual morning. "Promise you'll escape before he gets the opportunity to talk to you about Cup Noodles^TM."

Edited 2023-10-09 01:28 (UTC)

"He eats his noodles in cups?" Liliana asked from a position of enviable innocence.

"I've already said too much," said Ignis, the kiss on Liliana's forehead an apology of sorts. "But yes, he does. He makes them in that cup, and calling them noodles is being kind."

"Okay, but now I'm curious," she said with a laugh.

"Tomorrow." Was that a promise? A threat? Quite frankly, it could be whatever the hell she wanted it to be, in light of that laugh. "I'll show you what I mean tomorrow. Right now, I think you're long overdue for crawling into my bed and falling asleep in my arms."

Liliana could only nod at that, weary almost beyond the telling of it. She didn't want to fall asleep, because she knew what would be waiting for her when she did, but she also knew that she couldn't push it off much longer. She wracked her brain for something like a risqué joke, just to further solidify how very fine she was, but even her clever mind couldn't come up with anything.

"Yes," she said quietly, drawing him over to his bed. She tried not to sound grateful, but she couldn't deny in the privacy of her own mind--

*...harbinger...carrying destruction...*

--in the relative privacy of her own mind, she had wanted to be held by him very much, but hadn't been able to bring herself to ask.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MHA #18; Saturday Evening [10/07].

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.

Re: The Aftermath.