The 11th Hour | Love

“Suhi.”

A quiet, disagreeing noise; a smaller body burying into a larger one, eyes squeezed closed, shutting out the world.

Affection bleeding into Ruin’s voice, sing-songing her name in a low croon, “Suuuuhi, it’s practically noon.”

Ruin bent his body—never enough to actually disturb Sihu—and gently placed his muzzle against her back, making a nibbling motion that rocked her entire body.

In the end, it was his metal faceplate that got her to sit up, one ear half-flopped as she turned, placing a forepaw on his face to pretend—without exerting any actual effort—to push him away. “Freezing.”

Ruin laughed, breath pluming, but he neither pressed the issue, nor apologized. Sihu’s own wings, made of ice, arched behind her, flapped as she shook herself fully awake. She rubbed a final time at her cyan eyes before looking up at him again, feeling the familiar pressure behind her ribs at the look in his green eyes, at the way they held onto her.

This was love, to Sihu. Not the first meetings, the early acquaintanceships, the blossoming affections; nor was it the passion that led to eggs. It was this well-worn familiarity, the comfort of him—of them together—that felt like two trees planted near one another, so their roots became entwined. They were separate, still, but together, growing, and what nourished one also nourished the other, even if not right away.

“Something on my face?” Ruin asked with a laugh, reaching up to wipe at his cheek with a wrist, all six pairs of ears sitting low, feeling self-conscious at being observed.

“Always,” she said truthfully, the corners of her mouth rising as he squawked.

No early-spring morning could bite enough to reach her, not with Ruin so near. Even before the snow melted, even if all Storm magic somehow drained from her; he would be near.

“I’m feeling sentimental, I think,” she confessed, preening apologetically at the thick mane around his neck.

“Do you want flowers?” he teased.

She nipped at him, knowing he felt the impact but none of the actual bite. He kicked some of the snow that crept under the edges of their lean-to den out, and, in the process, sprawled out further for her ministrations, a satisfied noise caught in his throat. “Maybe flying, later,” she offered, knowing how much she would enjoy bounding through the heavy clouds with him, cold air sinking through their scales.

“Mm.”

She pinned him with one paw, and leaned close to his biggest ear on one side, cleaning it before asking, “And what would you want?”

Ruin grinned; his ears twitched. “Might take a nap, actually.”

Sihu pulled on his ear with her teeth, but laughed helplessly, falling on top of him: elated and overall contented in a way that sank down to her bones and made a home there, had made a home there some time ago, when it had been welcomed as a long-term guest.

“If you wish. Come along, now.” She jumped down and plodded out towards the sun, knowing he wouldn’t be two steps behind her.