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Druig got lost in his head sometimes, oceans worth of memories pain and carnage across milleniums flooding his mind in an endless scream. An ache he prefered to ignore instead of touch, so he wouldn't inflame it. Needing air-to be away from Ajak's home and the strange feeling of her being gone without them ever mending what was broken-he ventured outside to the quiet wilnderness.
He found Makkari a distance away, gazing at the endless horizon. Not a single tree disrupted the view. For a moment, he was transported back thousands of years ago, an evening of rest after a day of slaying Deviants, performing their duty. A time before the rules of that duty turned blurred and ugly, a bleeding wound inside him that kept growing. Spices in the air. A breeze catching Makkari's hair as the orange light of the sunset kissed her skin—she had been glowing, ethereal. It had been so easy to sit down next to her, asking her about whatever recent treasure she had picked up. That day, she knocked his shoulder, then proceeded to tell him.
They were both rule breakers and could tease each other about it freely.
In present day, South Dakota, Makkari glanced up when he came, eyes squinting a bit from the sun and her smile.
That smile.
He sat down. Makkari was so beautiful Druig could taste it, could feel it crawling deep under his skin. She nudged his shoulder, eyes full of life. They were always so rich with everything vibrant Druig had ever seen—every sunset, every shooting star, every drop of dew and every bright cloud—maybe because she was always off finding beautiful things, always open for the beauty around her. All of that stayed in there, brimming over; there was no choice but to absorb that light she emitted, just like you couldn’t ignore the sun.
He moved to say something, but that thought fizzed to nothing when his gaze inched to her lips.
Makkari tilted her head to capture his eyes with hers again, knowing mischief in her eyes. And Druig broke into a smile, too, leaning back on his hands as he turned to face the sun.
Nobody made him smile like Makkari.
Tension prickled from his hand up his arm at the touch of warm skin against his cold fingers. It rolled into a pleasant buzz, a skip in his heartbeat before the rhythm settled into the familiar, soothing, pattern only Makkari’s exuberance could trigger. Opening his eyes, keeping them on the horizon, he moved his pinkie against hers, and she slid her hand over his.
She graced his shoulder with hers, and he turned to her. ‘Beautiful,’ she signed.
He nodded. ‘I never get tired of sunsets.’ Not with you.
Smiling, she shook her head and poked his chest. ‘You.’
Druig’s fingers dug into the sand.
A bated moment passed as Makkari stared at him without blinking. Something shifted in the air. She moved her hand from his and cupped his cheeks between both of her palms. Leaning her forehead against his, she closed her eyes. Makkari’s breath trembled, warm against his cheeks. When she opened her eyes, they were wet, pain swimming in them. Druig’s hand shot up to hers, still holding his cheek. She stroked that cheek with her thumb before leaning back, taking a deep inhale. Warmth lingered on his skin.
‘Sometimes, I see it in my mind. You disappearing.’
Druig swallowed against a tight knot in his throat.
‘And it feels so real. Like we’re back there, and he’s killing you.’
Druig shifted closer to her—always gravitating closer. Then, and now. Breathing the same air, feeling the same thing, smiling the same smile, aching the same pain, because nothing felt more like belonging.
‘I’ll never leave you again,’ he said, then reached up to stroke her chin. “I promise,” he whispered. A warning to himself.
She put her hand over his heart and it reached towards her.
Shadows around them deepened; the sun was almost down. Makkari lifted her hand from his chest to his face, tracing it, sending tingles through his skin, to his heart, to his soul. It all hurt less when she was near him.
She smiled, retracting her hand. ‘I could look at you forever.’
‘Just look?’ He quirked his lips, tilted his chin up.
Grinning, she rocked her shoulder into his. Then she bit her lip, still smiling. ‘You really want the answer?’ she wiggled an eyebrow, making him laugh.
‘You need to ask?’ he said, and she held his gaze, playful glint matching the sparks in his synapses.
They had been teetering on the verge of something for eons, learning each other’s rhythms only to find themselves dancing towards a cliff. Now, they balanced on the sharp edge of it. Except that was an illusion, wasn’t it? They had fallen long ago. And looking at the shift in Makkari’s eyes as she held a hand on his cheek and he put a hand on her shoulder, he realised that all this time, they had been plummeting alongside each other. So close.
centuries
inches
a breath
apart
and all this time
all they had to do was
reach
Their kiss was soft and gentle; a shooting star, the sea caressing the beach under the fullmoon. Eyes closed, he searched for Makkari’s hand—and she clasped it, because she always knew.
They parted. Druig breathed to still his heart, holding onto her hand like a lifeline. “I love you,” he whispered. Another breath. ‘I love you.’ He pressed the sign towards her heart, eyes stinging because that kiss broke a dam inside him—the wall around the place where he kept his longing.
She kissed his forehead, stroked his hair, then leaned back with a glowing smile. ‘I love you. Forever.’ She reached to touch his hair.
‘Forever.’ Druig put his head in the crook of her shoulder, breathing her in. Being where he felt safest. At home.
Makkari kissed Druig’s head, and ache seeped out of him as her fingers circled the nape of his neck. He pressed his lips against her neck. His light, his tether. His beautiful, beautiful, Makkari.