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Don't bother unless you have something important to say.
β sms β mms β voice β video β action β plans to end humanity β unreasonable tantrums regarding one's twin brother β
Don't bother unless you have something important to say.
β sms β mms β voice β video β action β plans to end humanity β unreasonable tantrums regarding one's twin brother β
good lord this ended up long i'm sorry
One: Knives is no longer the man she was so afraid of.
Two: She's enjoyed Knives' company around the castle. The fact that he's given her gifts means that he likely has too.
Three: The kiss they had shared had been mutually enjoyable. The fact that she survived probably proved this.
Four: As a result of the above, Meryl was, most likely, developing feelings for Millions Knives.
The last one isn't a conclusion she comes to lightly. There is a lot of grappling to be done, namely with her relationship with the man prior to arriving here. There's a mental war in the back of her mind over whether or not she's done right by her mentor. She wonders if his penance here has any bearing on the world they've left behind. And of course, she can't help but fear that
It's Vash, in the end, that convinces her to place her doubts aside. Not literally, but rather his contagious optimism and hope for every soul around them. His belief that everyone, everyone could be forgiven is what pushes her to finally reach out and do her due diligence.
Her friends and partners have been consulted. She's gone over and over her thoughts in her head. And now there's only one thing left to do: actually speaking with the man.
It turns out, this is easier said than done. Meryl has passed by Knives' part of the castle at least three times now, all without taking a step further into the wing. The fact that the bottom of her jacket hasn't been worn clean off with how her hands wring into it is a miracle in and of itself. Never mind the fact that she somehow hasn't worn a rut into the floor.
On the fourth pass, she finally manages to summon her courage. With a heavy breath, she squares her shoulders and steps over the proverbial threshold that had been holding her back. Her head swivels as she begins to look for the man, unsure where to begin given the fact that she's never actively crossed this boundary.]
Knives? Are you in here?
i am EATING IT UP sorry it took me so long to get to it
knives β¦ never would have thought his hatred for humanity would have taken such a backseat, let alone nearly disintegrated entirely during his stay in this place, but it stands to reason that maybe it never is too late to teach an old dog new tricks, though if you were to ever use that phrase on him β¦ he might actually stab you.
with whatever he happened to have on hand. probably not a knife, but that's neither here nor there.
he's sitting in a chair off to one side of the room that makes up the most of his personal space in the castle, the paper and pen vash had given him recently resting in his lap and between his fingers respectively, and once meryl is close enough, she might recognize a very familiar-looking cup nearby, its contents still on the verge of cooling enough to consume.
he looks up when he hears her voice, so lost in thought at the notes he's putting down on the page in front of him that he almost hadn't heard her, but his expression melts into something fond when he sees it's her. ) I am, indeed. To what do I owe such a nice surprise? ( knife.
that is incredibly heterosexual of you. )
no no shhh you've had a lot on your plate.
(The tea isn't missed β in fact it makes her heart lurch. To say nothing about the faint pink that begins to bloom across her cheeks)
Right. She has a case to argue β one for her own feelings and affections. The thought very nearly makes her turn around once again, and really β it's getting exhausting, fighting her own mind at every turn. Compared to the arduous journey she's taken with her other partners, this is already far more exhausting, and she'd picked a fight with one of them along the way!
Her palms itch, drawing her back into the moment, albeit unwillingly. Part of her wants to bonk them against her forehead, as if it might knock some sense into herself. She'd have to explain the display to Knives, though, and that's the last thing she wants, actually.
Instead she holds them up, ready to wave them off.]
Iiif you're busy, it can wait. Honestly. It's not that important. [Maybe it is to her, but that's fine. He doesn't need to know that.] I was just going to ask if I could sit with you. And talk, maybe.
See. Not important at all!
yes but i'm usually much better than this!!
something he's really gotten used to doing, if we're not being too subtle.
now, knives has never been the sort to second-guess, himself, no matter what the matter at hand may be; he's always been strong in his convictions, in his decisions on how to move forward with any given thing at any given time and that β¦ might have been his downfall in the end, he isn't about to admit it but the fact remains that he doesn't know what it feel like to be so unsure of himself. he wouldn't understand the internal war she's having with herself even if he'd been aware of it in the first.
he waits patiently for her to finish, to get her words out before he's setting his things aside completely β placing them gently, delicately on the table beside him that also houses his tea β and offers her such an achingly soft expression that it almost doesn't look like it belongs on him at all. vash has always been the soft one of the two of them, of course, but in this moment she may realize just how much alike they really can look when there aren't the hard lines of anger creasing knives' brow. ) You're always welcome to sit with me. You never have to ask.
( he gets up, then, with the intention of ushering her into the room properly ( before she has a chance to change her mind for real and flee.
you can't r2 l2 your way out of this one, shortstuff.he gestures toward another corner of the room where a loveseat sits, perfect for two people to relax and have a chat and not be too far away from one another. ) Would you like some tea?
good thing i'm super flex and unbothered! πͺ
There's no logical reason for anyone else to be in this part of the castle, not right now. If there were, Knives would have made that clear to her already.
In the end, it reminds her that there's a reason she's there. If she's misinterpreting these gentle touches and sideways glances, if she's letting her imagination get ahead of her, then she needs to know it now.
Her hands clench into fists for just a second, long enough for the bite of her nails against her skin to fuel the resolve she needs. When she finally lets herself meet Knives' gaze once more, that determination lingers, even as her features soften into something just a little more relaxed.
A nod is offered.]
Right. Yeah. Tea would be great. [Having that focus point had helped her before. And even if that wasn't the case, she's begun to enjoy just having tea with Knives. If that's all this was between them, then that would be okay.
For now, though, she makes her way to the loveseat, trying not to think about the limited distance between the two of them. She sits down, with both legs folding and leaving her cross-legged. As she shifts about, she reminds herself that this was hardly the closest they'd ever been to one another β the mistletoe had made sure of that. But there hadn't been a choice then. Now is different.
They both want to be there. Meryl just needs to know why.]
We've been through a lot together, haven't we?
you are far too good to me
or a hammer to the chest, whichever is more inconvenient for him at the time.
she agrees that tea would be a good idea, and he gives her a small nod in return as he goes about pouring another cup while she settles herself; the silence stretching comfortably between them before she finally thinks to ask her question. it's an innocuous one, to be sure, one that could leave pretty much anything and everything open-ended and he ponders how he should answer her as he finally settles in the space beside, giving a low hum under his breath that could be contemplation β¦ and it could be something else.
it's true that this isn't the closest they've been before, but it's also true that this is the closest they've been of their own volition; he's careful as he settles not to invade any of her space β unless she makes it known that she doesn't mind if he does β finally holding her tea out to her and resting his hands in his lap. )
We have, in some way or another. ( he begins, quiet and somber as ever. he gets the feeling there's going to be more to this than just a simple rehashing of how things have gone since she first arrived. ) For the better, I like to think.
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But she can't reflect on the cup forever. Eventually, she has to lift her head and consider the conversation at hand. He calls all the developments a good thing, and that gives her hope. It also makes her all the more nervous. The last thing she wants is to have those hopes dashed. In the end, it would be better that it happened now, rather than later, though. That's what drives her forward.]
I thought so too. But the thing is... [She looks down at the dark liquid in her cup.] Some of those things have been rather intimate, haven't they?
[The kiss they shared. The name he gave her. The gifts exchanged and even now, his openness to her presence.]
I just want to be sure we're on the same page. That I'm not - reading too much into anything. And if I am, then that's okay! I can pull back, just...
[It all feels very childish, suddenly. She'd be better handing him a note and asking him to check yes or no to the question "Do you like me?" Her head turns away, the humiliation growing by the second. It threatens to clamp down her throat and keep her from speaking.]
I need to know where we stand, is all. Because if I - like you more than you like me, then that isn't good, right?
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he's also come to enjoy her company more than he'd previously realized he would in the first place, but. he thinks that might just go without saying at this point.
she hesitates with her words and he gets the feeling that whatever she's about to say has a weight to it she's unwilling β or perhaps afraid β to let go of; it makes him want to reach out to her, to take hold of her hand and reassure her that he's there to listen to anything she might have to say, regardless of what it might be, no matter how much she might think he doesn't want to hear it.
or how much she doesn't want to say it? two sides of the same coin, on that one.
so he waits for her to finish, or to at least get to what he thinks might be the end of her stumbling over her own words, the beats of her heart, and if he's quiet for a moment before he tries to give his own reply, it's because he's yet again trying to pick through his words and choose the correct ones.
it's not as though he's ever done anything like this before, and there are a myriad things that begin to roll around in his head all at once, thoughts knocking into one another and sending others whirling, spiraling in all sorts of directions.
he's just a little bit dizzy. i don't know much about humans and intimacy.
but that kiss was nice, brief as it was.
i wouldn't mind doing it again.
butβ
he swallows thickly, and the only thing that comes out of him at first is: ) You β¦ like me?
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(There is, of course, the wilder part of her imagination. This one insists that she'll be left on her lonesome, shut out entirely by Nai, with every ounce of progress lost.)
What she doesn't expect is the almost timid answer that follows, so innocent in its formation that she can't help but let out a laugh. It's gentle, and coupled with a smile so endeared that she may as well be radiating hearts. Maybe she's reading too much into it, but she can't help but reach forward in that moment. She does what Nai had hesitated in doing, threading their free hands together. The tea lingers in her hand for just a moment longer, before it too is set aside. The now freed hand tucks over the opposite side of Nai's sandwiching it in.]
I do. A lot, actually. [And just in case it there's any chance of being misunderstood, she adds:] Not just as a friend. I hope you knew that much already. I - mean it romantically.
If... that's okay, Nai.
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it doesn't mean anything if you don't get it right, for all he wants little more than to assuage any fears that her feelings are misplaced, he has to choose the right words. and he has to choose them well.
( just be patient with him. he's learning, and he still has a long, long way to go before it all makes sense. )
he's not quite expecting her to finish what he'd thought about starting and reach out for him , take his hand first in just one of hers β so, so small in comparison, it endears him more than he thinks he'll ever be able to put words to β and then both, and such a simple thing shouldn't affect him as it does, but he'll be damned if his heart doesn't do a ridiculous flip-flop somersault behind the cage of his ribs.
his fingers squeeze hers gently, and he picks through his thoughts one by one until he can settle on something that he thinks might actually make sense when he tries to put it into words. ) I find your friendship invaluable, to start. Whether or not there would ever be anything more than thatβ ( he pauses, absently worrying at his bottom lip with the edge of one sharp incisor, a nervous habit he doesn't actually realize he's picked up just yet. ) I don't think there are words for how much I appreciate your acceptance of me. As a whole.
( you know how vash has a tendency to ramble when he's nervous? this is the nai equivalent. too many words regardless of what he's actually trying to convey.
he swallows thickly, throat clicking with the dryness in the very back of it, pale eyes searching hers and hoping she'll understand. ) I care for you, very much. But I can't tell you that I have any idea what to do beyond that. ( hey, stupid.
haven't you been thinking that you wouldn't mind kissing her again. you could start with that. )
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The squeeze of her hands is reassuring, even when the beginning of his ramble doesn't. Their invaluable friendship felt like a way of emphasizing that they were just that. She wouldn't hate it, just being his friend, but that wouldn't mean she wasn't disappointed.
But he continues, teeth worrying his lip in a way she almost wants to scold him for. Don't hurt yourself, she nearly says, if there weren't more important things happening, things she doesn't want to interrupt.
She sits in silence with his final statement for a moment. There's no disappointment or frustration. It's a better answer than she could have expected. The question now becomes... what next. The last thing she wants is to speak in a way that might imply she was pressuring him. She had known, at least in the back of her mind, that he probably didn't have much experience in this regard.
In the end, she shifts enough so that she's sitting on her knees. It helps her push herself up that much higher, so that they're almost eye level. Yes, she has to take every inch she can get.]
We don't have to have an idea. We don't even have to be a "we." [Even if her brow does briefly pinch at that.] I... I mean I'm sure you've seen Night Sky and Livio around. I have experience with them but - Sometimes I still don't know what I'm doing.
But I do know I care about you, too. A lot. And even if that just means little nights like this, just spending time with each other. Or Drinking tea. Or anything! I would be happy. [Finally, her gaze drops, courage finally fading.] But I wouldn't mind... more, either. More like - before. With the masquerade.
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( and that circles right back around to the reason behind his wanting to learn how to garden, because he's come to the realization that he would so much rather create, cultivate then tear down, and he thinks of his interactions with meryl the very same way.
do not mess this up. )
she lets him ramble, and he's almost afraid that she's going to move away from him when she begins shifting β don't, please β but that may just be a little bit of that ever-present anxiety of his seeping through when it really, really shouldn't, and when she settles again he tries not to take so deep of a steadying breath. or at the very least, to make it seem like it isn't exactly that.
he gives over a slight little huff of laughter at the mention of their resident giant teddy bear; not that he would ever refer to him as such outside of his own mind, but you're welcome to appreciate it in introspection. ) It would be rather difficult to miss him. ( he says quietly, with the hint of a soft smile. ) Night Sky, we've never crossed paths in person, but I would say I'm β¦ peripherally aware of her. ( sort of? he's probably seen her on the network.
he goes quiet when she picks back up her own ramble, holding her small hands in his, gently ( and absently ) brushing the pads of his thumbs over the backs of them, almost like he's trying to comfort her and isn't aware of doing it at all. there's a lot to pick through here, too, and a lot to respond to, but for the very moment β¦ he chooses that very last bit. ) Like before, hm? ( he leans in a little bit closer, and where before had been nothing but the most wholesome sort of uncertainty there's a liiiiiittle bit of mischief in the way his eyes shimmer just the slightest bit in the low light. ) Does that mean I have your permission to kiss you again? ( he really will get to the rest of it, we promise, but one thing at a time and baby steps, regardless. )
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But it's all a moot point, as she's far more distracted by the conversation at hand than attempting to read her... companion's? mind.]
They're both good people. Kind. And very different between the two of them. And from you. [So far, Meryl's type has been a scattershot. They've all also been things she's fallen accidentally into. Really, Nai is the only one she's actually danced around with any amount of deliberation.
Anything else she might have had to say is interrupted by the way the his fingers trace over her hands. Once again, she has to marvel at just how gentle he is. She no longer has to grapple with the man in front of her versus the one she remembers, but even still, he finds a way to take her by surprise.
... Like with that question, for example. She huffs once, turning her head briefly away as she tries to hide the way her face immediately burns an even brighter shade of red. She doesn't stay away long, though, not when the offer is enticing as it is. Eventually she turns back, though, eyes still wide and skin still warm, but a hopeful smile blooming all the same.]
I - would like that, actually. [Her chin tips upward, just a hint bolder than before.] Permission granted.
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moving right along! ahem!
he smiles softly at the first response she gives. ) I imagine you couldn't attract anything but good people. ( he pauses, brows furrowing, because yes, he realizes what he's just said and is going to make an addendum. ) Save for me. But we've been over your acceptance of me and everything I am β¦ so I suppose that means you get a free pass, hm? ( he's trying to be funny, he's trying to keep his tone light but the fact remains that he still feels as though he'll never be able to atone for what happened in july. all those people, all those lives, not even including his own because he'd brought that on himself β
but he's not going to allow himself to spiral. not now. not when this is a good conversation.
the way she turns away from him is β¦ undeniably endearing, as though she isn't entirely transparent and that's including the fact that he's terrible at reading social cues; she turns back to him, and he takes back one of his hands to trail his fingertips over the very edge of her jaw, a reverent sort of touch that goes to the corner of her mouth before that hand settles at the side of her neck, the flutter of her pulse bright and warm beneath his palm.
he doesn't say anything else, only presses his lips to hers in a semblance of how she had done the same during the masquerade, only unhindered by the stipulations of being released from a ( pardon the pun ) sticky situation; his lips are soft against hers, chaste in the way he first lays little pecks against the seam of her mouth and then kisses her properly, warm and inviting, giving her all the room she might need ( or want ) to steer the kiss in whatever direction she likes. )
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I think I attract people that want to be good. That are willing to be, even. [It's an alteration that successfully includes Nai within the bunch. She's not going to forgive his past, solely because that isn't just her role, but she can acknowledge the steps he's taken forward.
She can also acknowledge that thinking about those things is about to be patently difficult for her, now that Nai is leaning in. There's a brief moment of panic, an instant where her eyes go wider as she both forgets and the simultaneously remembers what she's supposed to do next. She leans forward to meet him, eyes closing as she accepts each little peck.
Even if the smile that threatens to bloom over her lips comes dangerously close to disturbing them both.
To her credit, she doesn't immediately push for escalation. Right now she's content with lingering in the kiss. When she does move her lips, it's slow and careful. She doesn't know how much Nai has done this, if ever. Thus, a careful, educational approach seems best for her.
And maybe she just wants to take it one step at a time with him. Maybe she wants to figure out what she's supposed to do with her hands first. They can't just fretfully grab at her own shorts the entire time. Perhaps if she lifted them to lay against his chest?
Yeah, that should work. If he gets to enjoy the way her pulse jumps and jackhammers, she should get to do the same.]
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( but nai can be hers, too. if she wants him to be. he'd never really felt like he belonged anywhere, much less to anyone even before the great fall, and there is a feeling of home in her that a part of him still doesn't know what to do with. he'll figure it out, in time, but β¦ he'd be trying to get away with a lie if he tried to say he didn't like the thought of being hers.
do with that what you will, meryl. he's in your hands. )
he sighs, quietly, a short and muffled thing in the space between them. ) I want to be good, I think. ( for a small moment, he sounds so much younger than his years, unsure in the steps he's trying to take forward. ) For you, and for Vash. You both deserve so much more from me than what I am. ( there's more of that vulnerability, effectively laying himself bare before her and asking, begging for her to accept him, as she's so far accepted everything else.
but. he follows her lead when she moves her lips against his, because he really doesn't have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, and he's still gentle, delicate in everything he does with her because he doesn't know any other way to be. though he does take a chance in dragging his teeth over her bottom lip, the slightest nibble, because he honestly can't help it.
his hands begin to move, quite without his consent and one settles at the back of her neck, fingers threading through the short, soft hair at her nap while the other settles at the dip of her waist, maybe even squeezing gently, pulling her closer and closer until she's in his lap, such a tiny thing, and he wants to keep her there.
his?
maybe he's thinking about that more than he realizes. )
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First step? Sliding easily into his lap. She straddles his waist almost without hesitation, stumbling only slightly. It causes her to break from the kiss just for a second, a faint little laugh forming, expression both sheepish and heartbreakingly stricken.
She's wanted this for a long time. Under pressure, maybe she'd admit to dreaming of it, even.
Lucky for both of them, she returns to their kiss just as easily. This time, it's her teeth that drag over his lip, reciprocating the gesture before tracing her tongue over the same space. If she had to guess β and she has no reason not to believe it, thank you β she has just a bit more experience than him. Fumbling though she might be, she can at least show him some of the ropes.
She quickly grows unsatisfied by the hand against his chest. One can linger against the firm muscle, but the other slides back into near-white hair. She cards her fingers through it painfully gently, relishing the way it slides through her fingers in the same breath that she relishes the slide of their lips.]