Work Text:
There's nothing Guest finds more calming than the shore during downtime. Distorted images of the moon dance on the surface of the lake, old wood of the dock creaking under the strain of each step he takes. He fidgets with the wedding band wrapped around his finger, chest heavy with thought.
Some horribly selfish part of him hopes his wife didn't move on. Guest shakes away the thought as quickly as he can. It would be cruel to doom his daughter to a life without a father. He hopes, for Charlotte's sake, that Daisy managed to move on without him. Whether or not she found someone new to give her love to is something he doesn't need to think about. A bigger question settles on his mind, something more real than hypotheticals regarding a world he's no longer part of.
Is it unfaithful for a dead man to fall for someone else?
Guest runs his hand through his hair, the blue strands becoming messy and disheveled at his attempt to self soothe. He regrets leaving his wife and daughter behind, but there's nothing he can do now to change that outcome. He made his choices, but you?
God. You deserved a long life, something kind and comfortable. Yet here you were, subjected to the same conceivably eternal torment as him. His gut tells him it isn't fair— some cruel force punishing the innocent for a grief they can't control. Here he is, though, counting the seconds before the peace becomes entropy.
And here you were, suddenly, tired eyes looking him over like he was a stray dog.
"Hey, can't sleep?" you ask through a yawn, taking a seat next to him on the dock.
Guest looks you over, slightly concerned by your half-awake wandering. "You should be resting while you can. It's important that you make the most of the downtime, you never know when we'll be sent back out there again."
A peaceful look washes over you when you look out at the water. "I just wanted to visit. I don't get to see you outside of treating your injuries."
This strong, sudden sense of yearning bubbles into his throat, and he does everything in his power to swallow it down. Your ability to patch him up quickly is what helps him keep his head at times, and he wants to make sure it stays that way. If he lets his feelings off a leash, it'd make these sick games that much harder for everyone.
Guest says nothing, returning to fidget with the tarnished gold ring on his finger, a symbol of faith now reduced to a mere question. His gaze darts to your hands, eyeing the way you twist your own ring around your finger, staring off into the water. He entertains the idea of you feeling the same towards him— pining for companionship in such an unforgiving environment. Wondering if it makes you any less faithful to your living loved one if you were to act on this want.
"Hey." You say, eyes still fixed on the water, "Do you ever think about them?"
He chuckles, a dry and mournful sound. "When It's quiet."
You don't acknowledge his response, your hands coming to a halt. Guest watches you bring your knees to your chest, some of your hair falling out of its neatly kept place. It's here, seated before the quiet water with your face lit up by the moon, that he lets himself indulge. Despite the exhaustion around your eyes and the mess of your hair, you're pretty. He can't quite recall when he started noticing it, but he's seen it for a while now. The crease of your brow tells him you're worried about something. The way you chew on your lip tells him it's serious.
Guest hesitates. He's not much for overthinking, that's part of his efficiency, but the things you do his brain are too much.
Regardless,
"Are you okay?" He asks anyway.
You look at him, finally, and your expression is a mix of fear— no— apprehension, and doubt. Guest tilts his head, placing his hand on your shoulder to ground you a bit. You blink, and shake your head.
"Yeah. I mean, I don't know." The words clumsily fall from your mouth, "I want something to happen. I know it shouldn't but..."
You trail off, eyes flickering from his face to his hands.
"It keeps me up at night knowing it could."
Silence. Uncomfortable, grating silence, thickens the air around the both of you. Guest begs his heart to stop beating so loud, like you'll hear it through his chest. He swallows hard, trying to scan your face for any sort of clue. Deep down, he knows, but he's not impulsive. He needs you to say it.
"What is it that you want to happen?" His saliva is napalm in his throat when he swallows, ignoring the way his heart sinks into his gut when you look away from him.
Then, a quiet murmur. Something secretive and vulnerable, something resembling a hushed confession caged away behind clenched teeth.
"I want to kiss you. I don't know if I should."
Guest's jaw falls slack for a second, only a second, expecting words to follow. Instead, he's silent, and he pulls his hand away from you. He can't help but feel like he had himself doomed. As much as he wants this, and trust him, he wants it bad— he has a wife and kid. You have a spouse.
At least, the both of you had those things. The realization sort of graces his conscious as he looks back at you. You don't have them, not anymore. Neither does he. Death was very sure to bring the two of you here alone, regardless of how many people waited for you at home.
His hand meets your shoulder once more, prompting you to look at him. A calloused palm greets your jaw, the hand not on your shoulder cradling your face in the slightest of touch. Dark blue eyes flicker to your lips, and back to your face, begging for some sort of go ahead.
When you lean in, he does too— rough lips connecting to yours in desperation. He feels your hands travel to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you in unabashed want. Your lips are chapped, cold air and poor sleep making for a careless and rough kiss for the both of you.
After a few seconds, you pull away. Guest caresses your cheek with his thumb, rough hands feeling like satin in your lovesick stupor.
He watches as you stand up, a little bit of shock and well met excitement plastering your face. A small smile tugs at his lips, warmth finding its way to his face when he sees you twirl your hair kind of like a schoolgirl.
"You should sleep now. I promise I'll try to rest soon too."
You nod sheepishly, returning to your cabin not long after. When he knows you're gone, he presses the back of fingers to his lips, feeling the warmth of where yours had been.