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#and i thought about how she finally opened up a bit on rost
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The Past Always Rises
Aloy is exploring Plainsong when she comes across a familiar face. Her fa- ...the man who raised her.
Aloy didn't expect anything about what she saw when she guided the gaggle of children back to the town. At first, it consisted of disbelief and denial, but... the longer she stood there the more she realized it was real. Rost, her fath- the man who raised her, had left for Utaru land and settled down. Without telling her. Perhaps at first, she felt a bit replaced and pushed aside. It didn't last though.
She was desperate. But she knew it wouldn't turn out well. He wanted to have this family.
So she pulled up her mask and tried walking away. However, it didn't last. With her luck, of course it didn't.
"Wait, Miss Machine Tamer!" the little girl who was clutching Rost's legs just a moment ago exclaimed. "My dad says you should stay for supper."
She paused. There was no way she would be able to say no. Her hair was covered in enough ash and mud that the red wasn't all that noticeable, so she would be alright. As long as she was careful. So, she crouched down and smiled under the mask. "Oh, really? I guess it'd be rude if I said no?"
"Yep!"
Aloy sighed gently, patting the fellow redhead on the top of the head. "I'll stay. But just for dinner."
"Okay!" the girl, who Aloy found out was named Ame, exclaimed. She rushed away back to Rost. Aloy finally noticed that his face was partially wiped clean, his former face paint faded. A few parts of it had streaked across his forehead.
Aloy slapped herself on her cheeks to snap herself out of it. "Let's just... get through dinner." She made sure her Focus was hidden as she followed them. It was helpful, but a dead giveaway.
The dinner was a feast. Less meat than Nora festivals, but still huge. There were bowls full of hardened grain that tasted a bit like honey and at least a dozen types of bread. Fruits and vegetables decorated the tables. While few, some meat-filled plates were sparsely scattered about. There was a prayer thanking the dead before the feast truly started, which Aloy found sweet. It was only once the eating began that she realized how absolutely ravenous she was.
She ate more than she had in weeks and felt as though she was about to burst once she was done.
Ame had sidled up to her side over the course of the meal to begin chatting her ear off. Mostly about what her dads were teaching her and the different machines in the area. Aloy did her part in asking whatever questions she could think of and simply listening.
The kid was cute and... she was Rost's daughter. There was no way Aloy could tell her no.
"You should stay! Just for tonight?"
The disguised redhead tapped the table. "I really should get going..."
"Pleeeeease?" the girl asked pleadingly.
Aloy didn't want to leave even though she knew she had to. But... what would one night do? "Okay. Just tonight!"
The kid cheered as she ran off to Rost once again. This time his mate was with him. An Utaru. She was happy for him despite all the heartache she went through. He deserved to have something to go home to. Aloy rose from the table, carefully walking over to the trio. When Rost noticed her, he had the smallest of smiles.
"I never got to thank you. Thank you for bringing my daughter home, Death Seeker."
She had completely forgotten about the paint on her face. "It was nothing."
"Nonsense," his mate replied. "The little one says you're staying the night? Let us use that as thanks."
Aloy was caught completely off guard. "There's no need."
"Well, Miss Machine Tamer," Rost's mate said. "We insist. My name is Okni, this is Rost. And our daughter, Ame."
She fell asleep faster than she thought she could. But despite that, a nightmare was still lurking. This time it was Rost's supposed death. It burned into her mind that he was gone. With each repeat of the stabbing and explosion, she cried out for him. Desperate to have him stay. She just wanted him to go with her. Unknown to Aloy, she was mumbling his name and reaching out to the open air.
And she was woken up by Rost. But she thought she was still dreaming. So she reached forward and hugged him. "Dad... don't leave again. Please..."
Aloy fully woke up about an hour later and realized what she had done. Rost was sleeping against what she was on and she wanted to reach out and make sure it was real. But she didn't. Instead, she just sat up and gathered her things. She was going to leave and never return, letting him have his happy family without her interfering. She was going to make sure he was happy. Even if it was without her.
However, he woke up before she could.
"Aloy, wait!"
His voice was so desperate that she had to stop in her tracks. She turned slowly, eyes tearing up as Rost stood and hugged her. It had been so long since that had happened. It made her break down to the point of sobs. She held him so tight to make sure he couldn't disappear. Her tears soaked his shirt and his crashed to the floor. They sat like that for a few minutes, just basking in the fact they found each other.
After that... it was catching up.
She told him about everything that had happened before she came to Plainsong. The worry on his face was evident even though she was in front of him safe and sound. All of her endeavors were dangerous, but she wanted him to know. He missed out on far too much. Then she was interrogated about her face paint. The panic was obvious. He was a Death Seeker and knew how breaking it could be.
"The Matriarchs made me a Seeker," she replied gently. "I wanted to... have something of yours. So I copied the paint."
The relieved sigh even made her feel comfortable. "Thank the Goddess."
Once the other two awoke, proper introductions were in place. And when he introduced her as his daughter, she almost cried some more. Ame was ecstatic to have an older sister (who was a machine tamer at that!) and Okni was just glad to have more family. Rost and Aloy were glad to have each other back. She didn't want to leave, not at first, but they all knew she had more things to discover. But Rost made sure that she knew...
"You always have a home here, Aloy."
(p.s. if you like HZD, join the scream room! https://discord.gg/rb6GuFYMcP)
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eagesoldartblog · 4 years
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Pay it Forward Chapter three: Cakes 
Lewis crouches down, his gaze glued to the oven as he watches the batter slowly rise. It was a rather small cake, but it would have to do. Considering it was such a short amount of time from when Arthur would supposedly arrive. And even more stressing- he didn't know what other ingredients his parents needed for his party tomorrow.
On top of all of that, the girls would be home soon, and he wanted nothing more than to spend some time with them. They had tried to stay up a few nights due to him miscalculating when he would have arrived home, just to see him when he got home! They deserved to have more attention directed to them specifically. 
Coincidentally, just as quickly as the thought came, Lewis had glanced up and peered through the connected living room, through the window, allowing him to notice the familiar shape of the car. A smile stretching across his face, Lewis slips out of the kitchen and makes his way to the back door. He waited a few seconds, attempting to hide behind the small door. Just a little longer. Make the surprise all that more sweeter. 
And he flung the door open. 
A gasp, “Lewis!!” Paprika’s bubbly voice is the first one he hears, and he ducks down and steps out- nearly smacking Cayenne who had been positioned at the door. 
He quickly snatched her up too, “Lew-!” Cayenne half screeched. Wriggling her tiny body to slip away from him, but it was already too late, A choked whine being squeezed out of her as Lewis hugged her tightly. Only compress more as Paprika scrambled up the steps and leapt into his arms. Singing a cacophony of Lew-lew that made his heart soar.
“Ack! Let go!!” Small hands press to his cheek, Belonging to the one and only Cayenne. Who Lewis loosened his grip for, allowing her to wriggle out. 
She glares at his happy grin, and then lightly bonks his forehead. 
“Ow, I missed you too.” Lewis laughed, standing to his full height- with Paprika snuggled against his shoulder- earning the shortest snort. 
Cayenne didn’t care, grumbling a small, “Yeah yeah,” walking away from him, yet making a note to toss a quick, “how was your crash?” over her shoulder. 
“Crash?” Paprika pushes herself away from her hug, eyes popping out of her skull. Eyebrows furrowed, Lewis cursed his little sister and opened his mouth to comfort her, 
“About th-”
“It's alright, Paprika,” Mama interjects, a hand stroking the little girls hair, “Lewis is safe, otherwise he wouldn’t be here to hug you right now.”
Her mouth was still set with a deep frown, interestingly looking from Mama to him, before reluctantly laying her head on his shoulder. Placing a kiss on her forehead, Lewis whispered, “Hey, I’m making some cake right now, but I haven't been able to start the frosting. Would you like to help me do that?” He asks, piquing her interest immediately. 
“Can I?” 
“Of course,” Lewis laughs, holding open the door for Mama and following her soon after, tickling Paprika into hysterics, “You know I always need the sweetest girls opinion on my frosting! How else will I know if they’re up to standard?” 
She bursts into giggles as he pokes her sides, flailing her tiny arms and attempting to wriggle them out of her backpack straps. “Wait-!! Let me-” She squeals, and Lewis swiftly plants her on her feet, whisking the backpack off her back. 
“Make sure to take off your shoes,” Lewis says, dropping the backpack onto the couch next to Belle, “Then meet me in the kitchen after you wash your hands.” She skitters off to the back door, shouting a small response as Lewis finds himself waltzing back to the kitchen. Crouching down, he eyes the batter, and the checks the timer. With an even bigger smile, he fishes for a toothpick to check its consistency. 
If it's ready soon, I can let it cool for a while as we make frosting, and then soon after it’ll be in the best shape for decorating! Lewis nearly fist bumps over the achievement. However, small footsteps clatter over, Paprika leaping to hug his leg and bouncing on her heels. 
She gives him a giant grin, “Let's start!!” 
Humming a small tune, Lewis ruffles his thick fingers through her curly hair, “Alright, now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, I need some butter, powdered sugar, and milk. Can you grab that-...” He trails off, eyebrows raised with amusement as Paprika bounces away from him to the fridge, yanking it open loud enough that Belle noticeably flinches from the living room. Hearing her call out, Lewis leans out to dismiss her worries. Then, hearing a small gasp. 
“Lewis!” Paprika’s voice strains, he peers over just in time to see her scaling the inside of the refrigerator, holding one of the drawers as it dangerously slides out—
Nearly diving, Lewis snags her by her arms and shuts the drawer with one fell swoop. He frowns, “Pap’, you gotta be more careful.” 
She curls his knees up by a mere fraction, clutching the milk jug close to her chest and whining, “I’m sorry..” 
“It’s alright,” he said, setting her down and grabbing the butter and milk from her hands and places them delicately on the surface. Before he turns back to her and crouches down, “Wanna help me grab the vanilla and powdered sugar?”
Eyes lighting up, she nods quickly, grinning ear to ear and turning around. Just on cue for Lewis to swoop her up and get her settled on his shoulders- crouching of course, even more so that usual to ensure she didn’t bump her head. They open the cabinet, Paprika pointing out the bag of sugar and the small bottle of vanilla extract, and finally she was put down. Skipping, she pulls out a large bowl from the bottom shelves and struggles to squeeze it into the more cluttered space. 
“Fetch your stool, Pap, I don’t want you falling again.”
“Okay!” And with that, she darts off, leaving Lewis with ample time to mix in the butter and sugar, and prepare the milk and extract for Paprika to add. He wouldn’t have noticed her returning if she didn’t let out a small sing- song laugh, “Lewis?”
“Yes, Reinita?” 
Paprika lightly kicks the floor, “Can we make some pink frosting? I wanna put some hearts for uncle Arthur!”
Lewis halts his stirring, turning around to face her, “Uncle..?” 
Bouncing on her heels, she gives him a full smile, “Yeah! Mamá told us you were making a cake for him! I wanna add something too!”
Eyebrows furrowed, Lewis stares down at the little girl with dumbfoundment etched into his face. An expression Paprika quickly picked up on and flinches away, frowning. 
“Or not..” 
“No, no,” Lewis clears his throat, face flushed, “how... Do you know Arthur?” He asks, feeling that was the safest route to go down with his tiny sister, to gauge just what she knows. Face lighting up in the usual shy and bashful way, Paprika mumbles out-
“Mamá y papá needed a baby sister while you were away at school, Arthur has been looking over us a lot.” The more and more she talked about him, the brighter she became, “He even lets me help him with the cars!” 
Lewis, still at a loss for words, nods his head and forces a small smile, “Is.. that so? Do you plan to become a mechanic one day?”
“Yeah! I think it would be really fun! Arthur taught me how to change oil and batteries and even how to use a tire!” Use a tire? She must have meant that she knows how to fix them, Lewis thought, humming to himself as he pictures the situation, stomach dropping at he imagines it being a seriously dangerous place..
Shaking his head lightly, Lewis snags to stool and sets it up, “You should have told me, you and I could have fixed up our car even faster.”
“You think so?” 
“I know so!” Lewis hums, scooping her up in his arms and plopping her in her place, “now, can you help me with this?”
“Here,” Lewis says, holding up a spoon, coated in a thick glob of white sugary frosting. Paprika shimmies close and wipes a small bit onto her finger, tasting in and humming with delight.
She beams, “It's really good! Arthur will like it a lot!” Sticking out her hand, Lewis lightly high-fives her. 
“I’m glad to here, I’m sure he’d be happy to know that you helped me!” He presses his fingers against her ribs and watches as she giggles and squirms, “Now.. what do we need now? To make the frosting pretty colors?”
Pausing to think, she glances around the kitchen and lands on the covers.
“Four bowls, and… food coloring.” 
Lewis marches over, a tad bit more dramatic and performative so that way she would giggle and laugh some more- to which he succeeded.
“What colors do I need to grab?” He asks, fingers already grazing across the five or four… Should it be simple or more decorative-?
“Uh… pink, orange, er… green? Oh! And yellow!” 
Green? Hm, that would be interesting, “Where’s the green coming from?”
“Green for grass! We could go green grass along to bottom and then… tires? For cars!” She exclaims, and Lewis smiles a small bit, snagging the black and gray color dye as well. 
“Clever, I think he’ll be fond of that, don’t ya think?”
“Yes yes!”
Soon enough, the four different colors were ready. Paprika and him spent over thirty minutes frosting and decorating the cake. She added the hearts she wanted and some sloppy tires bouncing along the sides, and Lewis puts a cursive ‘thank you’ along the top, along with a wrench design around it. Then along the top Paprika and him both dot it with the orange frosting. Making it resemble a childish tower more than anything else.
Upon completion, Lewis let’s out a soft sigh, ruffling Paprika’s hair, “Nice work, Reinita. Let’s go wash our hands and let Papa prepare dinner.” She nods in agreement and leaps off her stool, to which Lewis takes and shuffles out of the way of his Papa, putting it away before grabbing the cakes tray and placing it on the top shelf of the fridge. 
Quietly, he murmurs to himself, “I hope he likes it..”
“I’m sure he will,” his father's unusually upbeat voice makes him flinch, and he glances over to him.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to… I don’t know..” he trailed off, still unsure of how to handle this situation and this peculiar man, he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Receiving a quick and light pat on his back. 
Papa smiles up at him, “It’s alright, everything will be okay. You have nothing to worry about right now. It’s only four right now, you why don’t you go and relax for a little while. I’ll call you when he gets here and then you two can talk it out.
He would rather he not show up at all, but if you insist.. Lewis nodded obediently, side stepping his way out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room. 
It’ll be no good to talk to him if he’s not well rested, Lewis figures. Slipping into his room, he changes out of his binder into a sports bra, and lays himself across his pillows and blankets. Peering out of the window into the cool summer air, a light breeze flowing in. His exhaustion finally catches up to him. 
When he opened his eyes, there were streaks of yellows, pinks and reds lining the sky. Blinking rapidly, Lewis pushes himself up, gazing out and seeing the sun was beginning to set. Blinking harder- as if it would help him focus and recollect his thoughts- he whips his head over to the clock and spots the red dotted outline of - 6:57?! Since when-!!
Shoving himself even more, and ignoring the acute sharp pains in his back and arms from suddenly jostling his body, he brings himself to his feet and slips them hurriedly into his slippers. Rushing out of the room as one thought spiraled after another. All of which, equally ridiculous and somewhat dumb, all revolving around that one dumb mechanic who’s had him in stitches all day!
Popping into the living room, the first thing Lewis noticed was that Cayenne was on her phone instead of reading the book in her lap on the couch. Paprika was playing with her dolls and half paying attention to the ‘How It’s Made’ show displaying on the Tv. And Belle was nowhere to be seen. 
Except, he finally noticed her through the side- window, carrying something from a low rumbling van parked beside the house and… 
Whose… whose van was that? The garish orange reminding him of- 
The back door opens, and he turns back just in time to see Belle shuffle in with a giant bag, and Arthur holding the door open with his own bags.
“Easy..”
“I got it, Arthur!” She spats back at him, glaring under her fuzzy hair, “I’ll go put these in Lew’s room, you shove your stuff in the living room.” Arthur nods, hobbling in after her, and his eyes rise to meet Lewis’s, Belle went on, “Be quiet, though, Lew’s taking a nap and he doesn’t know you’re staying the night. It’s a surprise.” She hisses through her teeth, dramatically shushing the much taller mechanic, who suppressed a chuckle and let his gaze fall back to Belle.
“Wanna bet?” He says, grinning mischievously, and he shoots Lewis a look to have him play along.
“Bet what?”
“That he knows I’m here, of course!” He’s grinning, and Lewis takes a step to the side and out of view, half tempted to duck into the bathroom and escape that way. Wait- why is he even -
“Hm… no deal.”
“What? You wound me!”
“You’re too sneaky! I can’t trust anything you do.” Belle is now moving down the hall and toward where Lewis was, the crinkling of her bag hardly doing a thing to help her sneak about. 
“Well, I guess that’s your issue then, isn’t it? If you catch Lewis on your way out, let him know I’m here, Kay?” He says, walking a bit faster than Belle, and with a few quick strides, Arthur slips past the opening of the hall and sends Lewis a giant grin.
One which has his heart.. racing? What-!
Belle’s voice snaps him out of it, “Aw shit,” she slumps over, groaning slightly. And dodging the quick smack from Lewis as he realizes what she said.
“Ey, watch your mouth,” Lewis scolds, tongue tripping up as his gaze lingers on Arthur walking out of sight and rousing the attention of his other two sisters, “Mamá wouldn’t be pleased to hear you speaking the devil’s tongue.”
Groaning, she swipes his hand away before heaving up the giant bag of- was that Sailor Moon? “Who do you think I got it from? Mamá’s just as bad as the mechanics at the shop!” She tries slipping past him, and Lewis has half a mind to ask her what she was doing carrying it around but-
Kneeling down, and blocking her path much to Belle’s dismay, Lewis quickly whispers, “Why is he staying the night-?” 
She grimaces, attempting to readjust her grip before Lewis takes it from her, getting more of a look- figurines? “Mama said you’d like having a friend over, so he came over.”
Far from enlightening, but he couldn’t get out a single question from his myriad before the lanky blond steps into view again. A half smile quirked over his face, and all of his words froze in his throat. 
“What’s up, Lewis?” His eyes crinkle from how he smiles, hair bobbing the smallest bit, “I guess the cats out of the bag. Your mom and dad asked me to help out for tomorrow's party, and they wanted me to stick around to keep you company tonight.” Such a light hearted attitude. His voice was the smallest bit gravely and… tired? It matched the shadows under his eyes and-
Finally, Lewis manages to choke out, “-I made you a cake.”
Arthur blinks, sputtering into a light laugh, “What for-?” 
“As thank you,” gaze darting from the living room and back to Arthur, his mind going in circles, it suddenly occurred to him how dumb he felt holding the bag- a present? Come ON- so close to his chest. There’s a lump in his throat that he couldn’t wallow back before he spins on his heels and dumps the crinkly bag on his bed and nearly runs Arthur down trying to slip past him. 
Arthur snags his shirt and trails after him. An action which should really be making him pause and question why he felt it was okay. If not for the fact that it felt… natural? However that worked, Lewis didn’t take the time to figure out. Instead he focuses on retrieving the cake and praying he doesn't accidentally throw it in Arthur's face.  
“Its for the car-” he quickly explains, “I- I still don’t know how to feel about it but- I'm very grateful and-” His words clash and slide into one another, becoming a mess right before his very eyes. Even Arthur was having trouble keeping up! Heart shaped eyebrows quirking up and mouth twisted with confusion. Soon, finally Lewis presses his lips together and shoves the cake into Arthurs chest. Stilling as those amber eyes drop to the work. 
Slowly, his quirked smile draws against his face as he takes in all of the details, “Lewis, you didn’t have to do anything for me..”
“I- I know, but-” Wait why did he sound like that- “I didn’t- it only seemed right to do something for you as well, I wasn’t- it's not every day that you just- have your car paid off by a stranger-”
Somehow, Lewis could tell that wasn’t the right thing to say. Arthurs eyebrows drop, smile faltering into something that didn’t look correct on him-
“ARTIE!” 
Both men jump with surprise, turning back just in time to see Paprika leap from the ground and latching onto Arthurs arm. He responds surprisingly quick, passing the cake back to Lewis and lifting her up with ease, making a small comment on how heavy and big she is as he pulls her into a hug. 
“Did you see the hearts-? Lewis let me add them-” She excitedly buzzes, not noticing the smallest hint of disappointment in Arthur's eyes before he grins back at her. 
“Well they’re absolutely adorable! It really ties in the scene! I bet it tastes really good too..” 
She nods, full of excitement, eyes lifting up to Lewis- who hardly found himself out of the sea of confusion he’s been casted into. “Lew, Lew, can we cut up the cake now?” 
“I-.. why don’t you ask Arth- Artie? I’m sure he’d love to share if you say please…” 
Almost immediately she was bombarding him with the same question. 
Soon, the cake is cut. Three plates for the girls, and two for them, the rest of the cake re-wrapped and placed into the fridge because his parents didn’t want any. 
The night went by both way too quickly and way too slow. 
Lewis couldn’t make out how he felt about his… friend.. 
Much later, the blankets are set, and Lewis and Arthur are now left alone in the living room while the girls are ushered into bed. 
Lewis honestly would have felt so much better had they been on the couch. There would be ample room, seats you generally don’t cross without your intentions being known. But the floor? That is free terrain. It’s colder down here so one would naturally assume that someone sitting close is for warmth and not-
“Lewis?” His eyes widen, choking as he draws his glass away from his lips and nearly dumping the wine down his shirt. How long has he been drinking-? This is ridiculous!
Anxiously pressing a hand to his mouth, Lewis forces the bitter alcohol down his throat and an even bigger smile- coming off as strained, “Yes?”
Arthur quirks his brow, “You okay, dude? You’ve been guzzling that ever since your ma’ broke out a bottle.”
…. He’s right about that… Lewis peers over at Arthurs glass and sees he has barely drank half of it. One quick inspection immediately proves that his entire glass is empty now. 
Wow. Well, That's an interesting development. He ponders, getting up to refill the glass (which he hopefully wouldn’t drink more of..) and sitting back down just as quickly.
“...Sorry, Arthur. That was my fault.. uh.. please don’t pay too much mind to me.” His cheeks are warm.. goodness why is he so nervous? 
If Arthur still had something else to say, he doesn’t start. Simply readjusting his legs and taking a long sip of his wine, quickly coming up to speed with Lewis. Coughing lightly when it finally catches up to him. 
The silence is unnerving, and worsening by the second. Silent all for the screaming of his thoughts running in circles.
Saying something, something, “So, Arthur. That bag you brought..” where was he going with this? “Was- are those things for me?”
He snorts, slouching over, “Well it’s not like I’d get it for Paprika or like- Cayenne.” 
“So you did get me a bunch of gifts..” He sighs, disliking the implication even more. Gaze shifting over to the cases of Sailor Moon mined by the Tv, the illumination reflecting nicely off the casing. High quality… Lewis gnaws on his lip.
“And if I did..?” Arthur's voice stuns him out of his spur, glancing back over to Arthur. The light casting sparkling rays over his hair, making him look radiant. 
Stop it. 
Arthur lets out an airy laugh, The coolness of the crackled window allows in a soft breeze, rustling his hair and making him all the more cooler as he droops over his own knee, “I’ve been trying to find you a bunch, so you can take it back with you.” 
“To school?” The heartwarming sentiment is joined by a pesky lingering confusion, doubt… hovering around them like smoke from a candle. Smokey and like coffee.. 
“For your dorm room.” 
“I’ll just have to…” a smile slowly crawls over his face, holding up his glass closer, the aroma filling his head with a tingly feeling, or perhaps his gulping was finally getting to him, “I’ll just have to make more cake for you.” 
An elbow hits his side, jolting electricity through his nerves, and the action has him fumbling and nearly spilling his drink again. “Hey, I wouldn't mind that,” Arthur says, his quirky smile back- reminding Lewis that he probably didn’t mean to startle him so much. Nor did he notice, unless that's what his chuckling was for, “I’ve always loved the things you make- although if you do, you should use more of your usual spices.” 
“Huh?” The world fogs and smears into a single blur of color when he turns his head. Eyes landing on the blond locks. Lewis’s throat dries, and he swallows and tries to focus even more on him. 
Arthur’s a lot touchier now.. “It was kinda- ya’know- uh- don’ take this the wrong way, but it was kinda- bland with how standard it was. Delicious as it was.” Part of Lewis informs him that he should be offended, but the coffee scent surrounds his head again, and he doesn’t think to mind it. Arthur shivers, snatching the blanket and twisting it around his shoulders, “I like the spiciness of your stuff, it's like your parents but- you.”
Blinking slowly- when did his eyelids become so heavy?- Lewis hums, his voice rolling against his vocal chords, “You probably are- I haven’t been cooking in a while, I still haven’t been back for more than a day, so-” 
“Nah,” Arthur interrupts him, spinning on his rear end and crossing his legs, eyes pinned to him, “I'm talking about you. Hell, even your chocolatey stuff is- well- spicy.. Uh- its like- jokohilo-”
“Jolokia,” Lewis sips his wine expectantly, eyes glazed over, “I didn’t think you .. didn’t peg you for someone who liked ghost peppers..” 
“It's an acquired taste,” Arthur says, tilting his head- or swaying, or Lewis was swaying. He pressed himself against the couch to stop that, “Usually I can't handle the stuff- any spices really, even peppermint is hot for me- but you.. I don't know, you make it in a way that's so… balanced!” Arthur scoots forward, bumping their legs together. When.. when did he get so close? Lewis straightens up, mouth falling open as he finally realizes just how close he now is. His shaggy hair falling to the side, and his jaw is rough with aftershave. Prickly- Arthur's face looked unnaturally red, almost feverish, breath coming out heavily. 
He looked … glossy- no, determined, in how his bushy eyebrows angle together. A shudder rustles down his back, the coolness of the window is way too cold now.
“Ar-arthur?” 
“Lewis,” despite the tinge of red in Arthurs cheeks, he sounded clear, “dont-.. I’m not.. Trying to be weird or anything.” 
“Yes?” his teeth clink together roughly. 
“Mind if I-- c-can I kiss you..?” 
Lewis froze in his place, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. His voice and thoughts ran into the ground in a jumble, the only thing coming out was the small rasps of his breath. 
And that was enough.
Arthur gulps back noisily, nodding without even really moving as he lifts himself off the ground and shoving himself away. Twisting himself and the blanket and facing the screen again, looking- sad? Blank or angry or- “Sorry ‘bout that, Lew. Just- .. forget about it.” 
His throat is tight and lumpy. Scrambling thoughts clash and squish together. Stinging almost. Lewis’s heart refused to stop thumping. 
Lewis couldn’t remember falling asleep, but very quickly he was aware of the light shining through his eyelids and making his mind buzz to life. Finally, his eyes flutter open, and sore muscles slowly stretch out and squash against the couch. The bright rays of the sun shine into his eyes. The serene scene of wind rustling trees finally filling his ears and reminding him that he wasn’t the only one in the house. With the blast of a videogame gun jolting him awake. 
He twists his head, noting the messy and disheveled bed head of Cayenne right in front of him. Blinking harshly, he lifts up his hand and ruffles the red hair. Earning him a short hiss.
“Ey’ quit it!” 
“Go brush your hair,” He hums, a yawn sneaking up his throat and making his shoulders shudder and shake. Squinting against the light, he glares over the room, with the second couch, several plants and flower pots positioned all over and shelves full of pictures of family.
None… of … Arthur? 
He pushes himself up, glancing around the living room for any sign of him and peering into the kitchen. Honing his ears, he realizes the only other person awake is Cayenne tearing out her hair. Lewis snags her shirt and directs her to sit in front of him wordlessly, and as she plops down on his feet, he begins to comb through her locks. Finally pushing out the question, “Where.. Cayenne where’d Arth’ go?”
She’s pouting, but glares at him from under her thick mop, “He left an hour ago, didn’t you hear him?” 
Blinking, he ignores the white flashing behind his vision and the small headache that pulsates behind his eyes. Before he grinds his palm against one, “Nah, I didn’t even realize he woke up..” 
Twisting back, she sends him the most confused glare she could, dripped with annoyance “You were talking to him.”
“... I was..?”
The steam drifts and floats around him, clinging to the wall, his back and shower chair like a sheet, the feeling was more than comforting. Even more so when he slathers his face in soap for the upteenth time. Allowing it all to slip off his chin and drip into his lap. The rhythmic motion doing nothing to distract himself from what was truly on his mind. 
His dumb spiky hair with odd stripes, how he somehow manages to be covered in hair yet remain so- cute? No, handsome, he definitely was a good looking fellow- Lewis slaps more soap against his cheeks, huffing.
And worst of all, he refused to get off his mind. The entire night they spent together was put on a repetitive loop, honing and focusing on that one very specific moment. 
Humming- or growling- he grinds his teeth and shoves his face under the water stream. To the point where the warmth in his cheeks could have been the result of either the hot shower or the fact that Arthur seemed to be lighting a fire in his head just by existing. His thoughts seemed to revolve around him! Which didn’t make an inch of sense… but… 
No. No, can’t be. Lewis isn’t like that. Lewis sternly reminds himself how inappropriate it is. Except, his shoulders falter, and no matter how many times he reminded himself that he should absolutely not be pining over this mechanic, all he would receive is an uncommitted wave of his thoughts hand as they drift back. Why that was a necessary part of the human psyche, he had no idea, and even more so Lewis was half tempted to write a strongly worded letter to himself.
He should call Vivi.
Yes, that would probably be best. Lewis sighs gently through his hands, water spraying to his knees.  She always did have a habit of.. well, snapping him out of his ridiculous thinking. Turning off the faucet, Lewis slowly brings himself to stand up and snags his towel, dying off his hair and soon the rest of him. While he slowly slips on his fresh clothing, he plucks his phone off the counter, wipes off its steamed screen, and dials. 
If he was lucky, she would be free. If he's not, then she's most likely sleeping, or doing something. Lewis glances at the phone screen, huffing slightly as he sees the minute shift to nine thirty. It's especially likely she was sleeping in still-
”Hello?”
Sighing, lips pulling with relief, “Hello, Vi’, I would hate to bother you right now, do you have a spare second?” 
“Shoot. I got all of the seconds to spare.”
“Okay- er… Vivi, have you experienced- uh- love at first sight?” He asks, plopping onto the toilet seat and seating ahead of him expectantly, like she’ll pop out from the bathtub at any minute. Never mind how foolish he felt even asking it, 
“Oh ya’, absolutely,” Vivi’s voice is suddenly muffled- eating? Oh, of course she was, she loved eating- “Of course like.. Not an actual person, just food and shit. But- I have. Why?”
Gulping back anxiously, Lewis fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “Don’t laugh-” 
Immediately a choked snort ruptures his thoughts, ”No way, don’t tell me- you’re kidding, Lew.”
Groaning miserably, Lewis sinks down, “Unfortunately, no.. im- I have no idea why!” That was a lie, “I met him just yesterday, yesterday and he’s the only one i’ve been thinking about all day and- how creepy is that?”
Moments pass, complete silence, only highlighting the ambient noise of- people speaking and silverware scraping against plates. Thus, reminding Lewis of the many times he caught her awake at six in the morning for the sheer desire of ‘people watching.’ Pah! And she said he was creepy… 
Then, she burst out laughing. 
“Should I just hang up now, Vi?” He finally asks, frowning tightly as he imagines how delighted she was by this news. 
”No, please don’t, I think this is amazing. How can I be of service my dear amigo?”
“How do I make these feelings go away?” 
Vivi chokes again, for a different reason if the nervousness meant anything, which, why would she? ”Wait what-?” She sputters, frantically spitting out her words, making them all slide out in a slurred mess, ”Why’dont you want to- why do you wanna stop it?”
“Because!” He nearly shouts, the echo barking back at him and he holds his breath, continuing in a considerably softer tone, “Because, I don’t know him, and I- I don’t want to deal with my infatuations right now.. You know how I got with-”
”With Xavier? I mean- yeah? You were.. Heart broken, but-! That was him, but this is.. Arthur!” The way she said it made his heart skip another beat, “He’s a great dude and he’s really sweet, he’ll treat you extra right- it’ll blossom into a fantastic relationship!”
“... I wish I could think like that, Vivi.. but I-... I upset him last night..” Why did he mention that? The last thing he wanted to do was bring up… that… “I feel like I would only upset him more, since I still have no real idea of how to process these feelings..” 
Vivi goes silent again, except for her small chattering, making him sure that she was alone. That was a solitaire Vivi habit if he ever saw one. ”Well.. I mean.. try? Hit him up in a little bit, ask him out. Or- even better- ask him out to dinner! I’m sure he would be over the moon! Heck- make him something to eat, he’ll be head over heels!” She chuckles and giggles as she does so. 
“I don’t think he would like that- I mean- I-”
”You think an awful lot, Lew,” Vivi retorts, confident in her voice as Lewis shrinks, resisting the urge to bite his fingernails.
“.. Alright, fine.. I’ll.. call him and ask him out for dinner, but I seriously doubt it-”
”If he rejects you, my phone will be ready and I'll be over in ten minutes for you to cry on my shoulder.”
“... Okay, thank you Vivi.. I will.” 
”Alrighty~ Bye bye, Lew lew! I love you~!”
“I love you too, Vi-vi, good bye.”
”Bye.”
She hangs up, leaving Lewis all alone with his thoughts, and he anxiously pulls up the number that Arthur gave him yesterday. 
He bites his lip, and presses the dial button. Waiting… 
”Hey Lewis, what's up?”
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chronic-ghost · 5 years
Text
because no one fucking asked me to . . .
Fandom: Horizon Zero Dawn
Pairing: Aloy/Nil
Rating: General Audiences
Title: breathe as though you are drawing your bow
___________________________________________________
She burst through the crowd at the edge of Daytower and took a deep breath. The smell of the spices, the loud chatter of the crowd, the sheer number of people —
Aloy slipped open the wide gate door and managed to shut out some of the static in her head. It was as though someone had thrown a blanket over the world and muffled everything that wasn’t important. She heard the chirp of crickets, the rush of water down below the cliff face, and the rush of wind through the grass.
She felt a worrisome buzz travel up her ribcage at the thought of being stuck in such a small camp with so many strangers, so many travelers, and so much noise. She knew eventually someone would come looking — to say thanks, to cheer her name — so blessed moments to herself like these were precious.
Aloy took another deep breath, this one free of anxious fears and full of cool, moon-lit air. At the end of the rampart, someone had lit the traveler’s fire and it called to her like Nora horn. Yet, as she approached, it seemed someone was already there — lying supine in the dark grass as though on chaise of a king.
Bow and helmet cast to the ground beside him, Nil tore at a blade of grass in his fingers, the hollowness of his collarbone cast dark shadows in the firelight. As though on instinct, she became irritated at the sight of him. She just wanted to be alone, by the goddess , and here he was — when she needed silence the most.
Behind her, the din of the festival echoed into the crevices of the mountain behind Daytower.
“Well, huntress, are you going to come over here or just stand in the dark, staring at me, all night?” Without looking back at her, he tossed the shredded bits of grass into the fire in front of him.
Aloy scowled at the back of his neck as she tried not to stomp over to the empty space beside him.
“How did you know it was me?” She asked as she slid down to the ground, her knees bunched up to her chest.
At that, he frowned, still not looking at her. “Come now. Do not all great hunters have a keen sense of awareness? I know exactly where you are, whenever you’re around.”
A crack in the fire made her cheeks warm. “A great hunter, huh? Is that what you’re calling yourself these days?”
“What would you prefer to call me?”
“A murderer with an advantageous bloodlust.”
“Better than a skinny savage with no social skills.”
The fire burned red hot against her cheeks. “Why are you out here, Nil? Why aren’t you inside, with everyone else?”
He stilled and finally, those storm-grey, metallic-silver eyes fell on her. The heat on her cheeks dropped into the back of her throat.
“ Why aren’t you? ”
Aloy bit the inside of her cheek to stop the spread of the heat to her entire face and she looked away. Why did he have to be like this? Always . Always pushing. Always going too far. Always saying things that —
“It’s the music.” He was talking to the fire again, the pads of his fingers nimbly twisting another blade of grass. “No offense to your people, but there is too much religion in your music. Too much praise to an indifferent being, if there was one at all. It’s a fine call-to-arms, but it’s just simply not my taste.”
Rost once said, some people lied as easily as they breathed and she was sure Nil was one of those people. Though she wasn’t sure why he would lie now, when there was nothing to lose. Then would you tell him , Rost’s voice asked, answer why you don’t want to be around your own tribe and the Carja Sundom who has embraced you as their own? Would you be so honest as to admit that despite all you’ve done, you still feel as though you are an outcast?
She knew very little about Nil and his past, Aloy thought vaguely as she watched him pluck more grass from the ground below him, then ease them into the fire. So little in fact, she dared to wonder if there was something in his past that made him reject the great cities of the Sundom and find peace in the wild, open lands.
“You cannot dance to this music,” he said simply, never needing encouragement to hear the sound of his own voice. “And dancing is nearly as good as killing.”
“That’s not true,” she said, ignoring his casual bloodlust. “I’ve seen hundreds of Nora tribesman dance at the Blessings.”
Nil shook his head, his dark hair sliding free from where his helmet would usually hold it in place. It brushed easily against the smooth skin, below the dividing line on the side of his head. “Dancing is meant to be shared, little huntress, not in the supplication of some silent goddess.”
“What are you talking about? Dancing is dancing.”
His grey eyes seemed to glow in delight as a thought crossed his mind. “Have you never danced with anyone before?”
She really didn’t like the small, knowing smile creeping across his face. Her mouth was suddenly dry. “I don’t dance at all.”
Nil chuckled to himself as he brushed the grass from his hands and stood up. “Well, that explains so much. Stand, huntress, and let me teach you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Nil.” She rolled her eyes away from his outstretched hand, something hot and warm simmering in her stomach. “You said it yourself — dancing to this is impossible.”
“Not if you have the right partner.” He slid his wide palm underneath her hand resting on her knee, pulling her forward. He kept tugging until she was on her feet and Alloy wanted nothing more than to run into the nearest glen and never been seen again.
“Nil —,”
He pulled her close, his bare chest warm beneath his silken vest. She put a hand between them to prevent her body from falling into him. “Hush, now. This isn’t meant to be torture.”
He lifted their hands still wrapped around each other until they were about shoulder-height. He stepped impossible closer until he had one knee gently between her legs. Aloy found she couldn’t mount a sound of protest even if she wanted to.
Nil held his other hand aloft, fingers splayed wide as though to show he held no tricks. His eyes were the color of a Stormbird’s wing and he was circling ever closer.
“Don’t snap my neck over this.” That grin, sharper and heavier than any he had given her before, was growing wider, bolder. “This,” he indicated to his aloft hand, “is meant to go here.”
It came to rest on her hip, gently, as though he knew she was hovering on her instinct to fly or fight.
They stood like that, pressed together, in the shadow of the Carja outpost under the summer moon. She felt his breathing, smelling of wintermint, tumble down the bridge of her nose.
“Now what?” She hated to think her voice came out as a whisper. The point where his throat met his collarbone fluttered under her forceful gaze. If he really were a Stormbird, her hesitation to look him in the eye would have meant her death — her corpse a charred mess, still warm from the blast of electric power.
He tipped her elbow up, up across his chest to rest on his shoulder, at the curve of his shoulder. The pads of her fingers brushed the fine hairs regrowing at the base of his skull and the breath on her nose hitched.
“Now we dance.”
As the hand on her hip tipped her closer, Nil stepped forward. She moved with him, against him,  and he stepped again. Little steps, nothing more than an inch in the shape of a square, but she was moving and he was carrying her, his fingers resting cooly low in the middle of her back. She heard the crisps of their feet as they edged around on the grass.
Beyond them, the drums beat wildly, like a throbbing heart. The crowd roared with ecstasy.
“Relax,” he murmured into her hair. “Don’t think of this as part of your training, or a challenge to win. Lean in. Breathe as though you are drawing your bow.”
He paused and put his wide hand flat against her breastbone. Up an inch more and he could have taken her throat in one palm.
His eyes were as dark as a turbulent river. “Breathe.”
For a single absolutely absurd moment, she thought he was going to kiss her —
— and in that breath that she felt all the way down to her toes, her body loosened, hips and thighs going slack. Her fingers spread against his neck and her lips parted.
His smile was almost cruel with delight. “Such a good listener.”
But then his head turned, his feet resumed their shuffle, and he pressed his temple to hers as though by touch alone he could transmit the tune in his head.
“You must stay in Meridian longer next time,” Nil continued, unhurried and frustratingly unaffected. “It’s a rather shit city but the dance halls are quite extraordinary.”
There were things she wanted to ask him; questions that began as feelings and vague fantasies that were only now growing clear and concrete. But where to begin? Her eyes on the glowing Daytower, Aloy dropped her chin and rested her lips against his shoulder. The silk there was warm.
“What are our thoughts now?” He asked after a moment. He had slowed their flow from a pattern to a slow turn, their two bodies revolving and swaying under the light of a thousand stars. “Still think dancing is just dancing?”
Rost had warned her about all sorts of men — liars, cheats, thieves, killers, monsters more machine than man — but somehow he neglected to tell her about men like Nil. Perhaps there wasn’t anyone else quite like this Carja soldier.
So, she thought about his question, and her answer, and she thought about his gaze on her when he thought she wasn’t looking, and she thought about the calloused hand at her back, and she thought about him, and her — Aloy lifted her head to look him straight in the eye.
“Is that all we’re doing? Dancing?”
He hummed, as though his every nerve was crackling. “Little girl, that’s all we’ve ever done.”
Inside Daytower walls, a loud bang echoed into the night and a brilliant tongue of fire lit up the night sky. The crowd cheered as more and more brightly colors exploded against the blackness above, the sound incredible before it all faded out.
Aloy turned to the noise, watching the explosions rise and fall.
Something warm brushed the shell of her ear, her skin vibrating sharply with sound so close, and suddenly his hands were gone.
She knew he would not be there if she turned to look for him, so she continued to stand underneath the great screaming fireballs with a knot rising in her throat so painfully it hurt to breathe. Her hands knotted into fists, she watched the lights even when her vision blurred.
Eventually the lights faded and no more came. A thrilled shout went up from the outpost and the music started again. Behind her the fire had died out and she was suddenly colder than she had been all night. Willing her hands to stop shaking, Aloy turned to go — to wander, to hunt, to be anywhere from here — when she saw something scarlet in the dark grass.
A single red feather.
And in that moment, she realized what he had so pleasantly whispered.
Come find me, little dancer.
Or read on AO3
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