Alex «Havok» Summers (
tolaywaste) wrote2013-09-09 03:37 pm
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[Alex is praying. He's in the chapel with his head bowed, like he's been since just after lunch, and he thinks he's gonna stay until dinner. It probably won't help in the grand scheme of things, but it's quiet here, and that's what he wants. Space to think. Or feel, maybe.]
[He woke up to a flood that drew the very worst memories of his life out of him, laid them on display for anyone at all to see, and now that the smoke is clearing he finds himself in mourning again. It's unexpected how much he misses Pietro, like a sharp pain between his ribs. He wasn't a brother, wasn't important in the same way that Ben or Sean or Armando are, but he was - is - important. He understood things implicitly, things about family that Alex doesn't like to explain.]
[So Alex isn't sure what he's praying for, exactly, other than Pietro's safety. Maybe his, maybe Anya's, maybe nothing in particular. All he knows for sure is he doesn't want to leave.]
[He woke up to a flood that drew the very worst memories of his life out of him, laid them on display for anyone at all to see, and now that the smoke is clearing he finds himself in mourning again. It's unexpected how much he misses Pietro, like a sharp pain between his ribs. He wasn't a brother, wasn't important in the same way that Ben or Sean or Armando are, but he was - is - important. He understood things implicitly, things about family that Alex doesn't like to explain.]
[So Alex isn't sure what he's praying for, exactly, other than Pietro's safety. Maybe his, maybe Anya's, maybe nothing in particular. All he knows for sure is he doesn't want to leave.]
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[He does! Usually. Mostly. Except not about feelings. He nudges her with his shoulder.]
You can even gloat. You know. If you want.
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I might.
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[And maybe he's looking at her overlong now, at least he feels like he is; after a minute he blinks and goes a little red around the ears before he clears his throat and faces forward again.]
I feel all right now. [Which sounds awkward but he doesn't know how else to put it, that maybe they should go somewhere else, or he should, or . . . he doesn't know.]
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[She opens her mouth to say something, looking at him again before she closes it.]
[Snow smiles a little at herself because she feels awkward and foolish. She imagines he probably feels the same way. And Snow is certain that's a good thing. That's the way it's supposed to be when you care about someone the way she cares for him and the way she hopes he cares for her.]
[She knows this is probably not the appropriate place, but it is the right time. And if there is one thing that Snow has learned, it's to appreciate moments like these when they occur. Because there's no telling if you will have something like that again.]
[She doesn't hesitate any longer. Snow leans forward, pressing a small and soft kiss to Alex's lips.]
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[She's strong and kind and believes in him, and he believes in her, and when he kisses her back he's smiling. It's not that he takes strength from her; it's that she gives it freely, and he gives it back. And right now he feels very strong. Like no matter what, they can both get through anything.]
[After a moment, he leans his forehead against hers, eyes shut, still smiling. He doesn't say anything at all, just squeezes her hand gently in both of his.]
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[It's even easier to brush all of that aside.]
[Because when Snow is around Alex, she's not a queen. She's just a girl in the budding stages of something more with a boy which is always confusing and complicated. But the excitement, the thrill, the sense of belonging, all of that far outweighs any sense of discomfort. Nervous butterflies just become small tickles that bring a smile to her face and that insecurity blends into trust for him.]
[She isn't worried about what it all ultimately means, what can or might happen. She's just glad for the moment she has with him. She's pleased by the smile she felt against her lips and the gentle hold on her hand.]
[Without opening her eyes and barely above a whisper, she says,]
We probably shouldn't stay here, Alex.
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[Seconds slide past before he realizes yes, she's spoken, and yes, it's to him; she wants to go somewhere else, but he's not sure he can move, he's too content. Tired, beaten down, but for the moment, content.]
Where-- [He swallows, tries again.] Where're you taking me, then?
[It's more or less a joke, feeble and quiet and gentle, the best he can do with his heart going a hundred miles an hour and everything moving molasses-slow at the same time.]
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Am I to steal you away then? I thought perhaps you might come with me to the gardens.
[It's difficult enough to find the will to move even for Snow. She's content here so close to him. But she realizes there are probably better places for staying this close to one another.]
[At the very least, the gardens are close.]
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[He blinks rapidly at the touch of her hand on his cheek and looks down, then at the door.]
Gardens are good.
[And then he's taking her hand and pulling her up, not trying all that hard not to grin. She's right. It's time to go.]
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Good though I don't think it matters. Most kidnappers don't really care for opinions about where they're headed.
[But also, Snow doesn't really mind where she goes right now. As long as it's with Alex, she's okay with it.]
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[He has no issue following behind her. He's sure she knows what she's doing better than he does. At this point, he doesn't bother disguising his joy, either, his awe of her, or the ridiculous smile on his face.]
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Does such a thing even exist?