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@deathburns asked; “ i trust you with parts of myself i’m afraid to show anyone else. ” / “ you make me feel brave. ” [ jazzhands bellatte agenda ]
► ❪ AFFECTIONATE ❫
Greenery thrived on the isles elevated among the sea of clouds. The long expanse of years upon years allowed isolated ecosystems to flourish new life in the sky, but not to this extent. Removal of limited space and a change in altitude made all the difference, a staggering contrast highlighting what one celestial picked up on soon after her descent. Earthen flora spilled over into countless varieties, and Ellatte found herself falling in love with each new one stumbled across, another entry to her expanding journal.
A lively bouquet / parting gift from the owner of a flower shop the town over secured in the crook of her arm as she gave her usual greeting to Bellion. It didn't take long for a question about the flowers' presence to wind up with him holding them as she launched headfirst into enthusiastic rambling.
Maybe in another life, she could have focused on caring for plants, immersing herself in wondrous botany rather than readying herself for battles lying in wait. A fear born from the guillotine poised over the exposed necks of her people, constructed thousands of years ago by the litany of demons. But there's more to their presumed executioners than meets the eye.
( would she still know bellion in that type of world, personally, dare she say almost intimately ? would he occupy the same space in her life he guarded now ? )
A gentle tune punctuated the lull in her explanations, a voiceless melody reverberating in a soothing hum as she took in his countenance. The easygoing posture as he reclined against a thick, weathered branch of one of many oaks of the forest. The expression he watched her with.
It's hard to describe the look she's seen on him more often than not as of late, to varying degrees. Thinking, consideration. A touch stifling in its focus / searching / intensity. But the heated edges were softened by... she's unsure.
It felt like he's testing something. Surveying her reactions.
Sometimes it’s a prelude to bursts of odd behaviour. Like the times he brought her heaps of food ( more than she knew what to do with / the majority of it ends up given to the villagers ), or he'd say something strange. Missing proper context, connotations she failed to grasp, it sailed right overhead. A blank stare in response may force him to backtrack and offer tentative reasonings or simple, evasive denials to requests of further insight. A confusing blend of distant yet overly affectionate. Why the hell did he make himself both open and hard to read at the same time ? The avenue of mixed messages waltzed in far too easily than it had any right to.
It frustrated Ellatte, yet also tragically endeared her. But she wouldn't dare be caught telling him as much; he's prideful enough already. The last thing he needed was any type of ego boost courtesy of her.
❝ You almost look like a completely different person when you let yourself relax. ❞ A genuine observation and a past one often kept to herself. It's verbalized this time, slipping through the cage of idle thoughts with ease. She's almost aghast at how freely it's aired but he seemed none too bothered by it.
❝ I trust you with parts of myself I'm afraid to show anyone else. ❞
It's spoken casually to the point she wondered if his words were conjured up by the imagination. A demon placing any measure of faith in a goddess. I trust you, like he's commenting on something utterly mundane. I trust you, like a simple natural fact, rather than the gravity of what it inherently carried. Trust. A precious component underlying the bridge of connection formed between two entities, sometimes paving the way for the unthinkable to happen.
Colour crept up from her neck, cheeks gaining a rosier tint as the basest urge to glance away from his vivid scrutiny seized her, a refusal to show flustered reaction in full, ❝ I'm glad that you can tell me that. I really am ! But you shouldn't say such things so lightly. That... It's... ❞
It's treading unknown waters.
He trusted her.
Ears burned under the force of the heat brewing beneath skin. A fist pressed against her chest, a silent plea sent to a heart picking up its pace to cut it out at once. Mind quickly redirected before it could fasten itself to the train of thought. If allowed to sit and set roots, it'd making her think. It’d make her... wonder.
It's hard to imagine Bellion as getting scared over anything. He's Bellion. A high ranking demon entire armies followed into battle. The surviving leader of the former six knights of black, terrifying figures carved into the celestials’ history and spoken of long after in hushed, wary tones as evil, ferocious monsters without fear, the impure who murdered and devoured life. The strong — if at times lax — front he presented rarely faltered. The pillar of almost insurmountable strength he represented in her eyes felt ironclad. What could shake the foundations of his heart ?
Some tension's expelled as she forcefully loosened the tight knot sitting firm within her chest, whitened knuckles regaining colour as fingers slowly unfurled. A sigh transitioned into a miffed huff mid breath and she pushed hair out of her eyes, tucking stray strands of white behind the shell of an ear.
Her feathers needed to smooth out. She shouldn't be so blatantly thrown off balance by this. He's her friend. Of course she's happy he trusted her. To hear him say that gave a certain warmth, a lightness to her chest like it could walk on clouds. It's not any different from when Solaad chose to confide in her and having the knowledge that it's because she could be relied on.
The faint flush of pink lingered from the earlier flood of happiness on the apple of her cheeks and tips of the ears, heart a touch upbeat from baseline but poise was restored for the most part. Hopefully the brief interlude of silence from her end as she collected her thoughts didn't come off as abnormal. She chanced a glance up.
He's there. What once spanned a few strides had been reduced to mere steps as he stood before her, not wreathed in hellbent wrath but surrounded by the embrace of flora, taking her hand in his once he regained her wandering attention. He did nothing but hold it, something like a smile playing on the corner of his lips, and with him closer she found she couldn't look away as easily. So unnecessarily close, and tender, and fond, and strange. Bellion, forged from war and yet... she began to think. This might be a version of him that maybe no one else ever quite had the opportunity to witness, and she’s painfully aware of how lucky she was to have been given this chance.
Then almost as fast as it came into existence, the almost smile disappeared, replaced by something she didn't recognize. Something that almost looked like longing.
❝ You make me feel brave. ❞
The bricks of composure painstakingly built up... she could see crumbling into dust as indiscernible emotions railed into them at full force. He's...!
Ellatte retracted her hand from his grip, cutting the advancement short, unwilling to allow the feelings to fully take hold and petrify her into another round of stunned, flustered silence. Uncertainty bit, clamping down like a wild thing. ( what would looking upon him again reveal ? rejection's far from her intent, but she didn't want to feel the if only brief sting of whatever emotion she could've wrought by pulling away ). Closed lungs were forced to work, to speak through the spun sugar oh so sweet on the tongue and threatening to clog the throat.
❝ Flowers can hold so many meanings. It's another language entirely, and I may be a novice at it but I think I'm getting better at speaking it. Look here at this one. ❞ Leaning closer, ever mindful of the proximity, a particular flower's separated from the rest and she plucked it from the bouquet, thumb caressing vibrant petals, ❝ It's a freesia. I've been told while others can imply similar things, this flower is the only one that symbolizes trust. ❞
Stem tucked between two fingers, she reached out to him this time. Catching his hand in her own set, both folded around it in a gentle yet firm hold. ❝ I carried it here after I heard that because when I looked at it I thought of you. ❞ She didn't lift her face yet, letting her gaze fall upon their joined hands, the blossoming flower sprouting from that connection.
A goddess and a demon, bound not by the violence expected of them but instead trust. A nigh unthinkable engagement between the clans, meaningful chances for such long since torn apart with ashes scattered to the winds, leaving behind inherent hatred and instinct to draw blood before one's own met that fate. A willingness to engage in those acts may have been there originally — natural after the nature of their circumstances — but it too, like all things, dissipated with time.
Those days were behind her now. While the future's more uncertain than before, she's all the more ready to confront it. With Bellion here, it seemed...a little bit easier to take that step. What was bravery, if not the will to continue despite shackles of doubt and fear and doubt plaguing one's resolution ?
Silver crown tilted forward, bringing forehead to rest against his torso, an action gingerly done in execution with the barest of force behind it. A light tap more than anything / a silent apology for moments before. The wide margin of height placed the flowers a scant breath away from a small smile that softened features, the bright petals reflected glow casting a mosaic of colour as leaves brushed against skin. The freesia truly did look beautiful.
Face prickled ever so slightly with the hint of the returning blush, lips shifting into something just shy of stupidly joyful. ❝ I'd like to be brave too. ❞