⫯ the leaky cauldron

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ "Silly", he whispered at her words, barely audible with how heavy both her tongue and her thoughts had gotten with the call of sleep that was steadily pulling the both of them into its waiting arms - warm and safe like the lover's embrace the both of them found themselves in right now, in this very bed. A part of him had longed to do this the night she had lead him to her room. He had wanted to stay, had wanted to hold her in his arms and yet he hadn't. It had been nothing but a selfish reason that had kept him from at least staying long enough for their erratic heartbeats to slow, for their skin to cool, for the taste of her salt and saccharine honey to fade from his tongue, mellow out into nothing but a faint thought in the back of his head. The call he had been waiting for had been nothing but background noise to him in that moment, he would have skipped it more than happily if it were for Emerald. And that had scared him. Now, as Morpheus opened his arms for them to slip away into the realms of phantasm and serenity, Kaladin almost regretted it - as his limbs grew heavy and his breathing steadied, her heartbeat faint and yet so prominent against the hand he had tucked underneath her ribs, pulling her that tiny little fraction tighter against himself that was separating them from each other, face buried in her hair. He was sure, then, as the last conscious thought faded before his inner eye, that he would never be able to recover from this. For this was Elysium, true peace, a place only the gods could have promised to a hero of old tales. "I love you", he breathed into her hair, soft like the feather's of an angel's wings against his cheeks, as he too succumbed to sleep.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ At the words that left his lips, quiet as they were with the way he buried his face in the mass of pale golden hair, Emerald smiled. It was strange, how aware she was of her body in the stillness of this moment. How acutely attentive she was towards the gentle rise and fall of her chest and the heartbeat within, the way her shoulders deflated, and how she exhaled, a breath of relief let out as if she had finally returned home after a long, exhausting day at work. And she picked up on the little things about him too: the steady breaths, the deep inhale to take in her scent, just as she had done before, the way his bodies slotted with her smaller frame perfectly. Like a puzzle piece that perfectly matched with her own. It felt, undoubtably, like the most right thing she had ever felt before, and all she could do was smile. All she could offer him was the faint curve of her lips, the glimmering eyes that stared at the white canvas of the pillow she laid on, that shifted as she turned her head once more to look at him, though only briefly. And as she looked at his eyes, she felt none other than comfort, the same that she felt that night at the tower, the first time she held his visage in between her delicate, cold hands. This felt right. It didn’t matter what reservations she had before, or what exactly they did to get to this point. At least, not at that moment, when she laid in his arms for the first time, back pressed against the warmth of his chest and the steady drum of his heart. This felt right. It was all she knew, as she grew drowsy with fatigue, body slack in his hold. “You’re the,” she managed with a yawn, eyes fluttering to a close as she felt herself drifting away into slumber, with an ease that she hadn’t had the luxury of having in a while. “Best thing…”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Truth be told, the change inside of him hadn't come abruptly, although it had been none the less dizzying - had thrown him off no less than if it had been. It all had started the night he had offered her to call him if she needed to and while he had offered that to countless people before, kept his phone on his bed in case something happened, he had always secretly hoped they wouldn't take him up on the offer. His sister was the only one who ever called him in the wee hours of the morning, ripping him from his distorted dreams. Emerald, in all her stubborn independence, had been the first one he had offered his company to and meant it. Truly, deeply, honestly meant it. It had been like getting into the driver's seat of a car that had long been started, pulling out into an inevitable road that lead him to this dinky little room, to cold sheets and drafty windows that barely let in the light of the streetlamps outside with how dusty they were. And while nothing about this should be perfect, while neither him nor Emerald were perfect, it still was. The kaleidoscope inside his chest had finally stilled, the colored shards of glass that had been ripping him apart ever since he had woken up next to Irelia, knowing that nothing about this had felt right from the start, falling into place so easily it made him dizzy. Because with Emerald, everything and nothing had been right, nothing had felt easy or simple. And yet it had been what he had needed, something that he had to figure out for himself without the aid of sweet nothings and brilliant smiles. He had to realize on his own, that nothing needed to perfect for other people. Just for him. She wasn't - not really - but it didn't matter, made no difference to the hammering of his heart and the nervous laughter that fell from his lips when she turned her back to him, scooting closer. "I does, though", he disagreed quietly, pushing an arm under her pillow as soon as she had settled against him, his arm resting in the dip of her waist, fingers caught between hers and it all came so naturally, Kaladin started to wonder if, perhaps, sometimes Fate really did pull his leg just for the fun of it. Freeing his fingers from between hers, he slid them beneath her, pulling her that tiny bit closer, face buried in her hair, breathing in her scent. "But I don't care anymore", Kaladin confessed into the void that was the light of her locks, voice trailing off with a yawn he was barely able to stifle. "Nothing really matters to me anyway, right? And now it... it just makes sense. I started being a better man, because of you - eh, no, /for/ you, before I even noticed it. That's how much I adore you."

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ “That doesn’t make you a ty person,” Emerald whispered after a breath of silence, a clement smile gracing her weary features as she looked at him. Her words rang true: even after all that he told her, even if she wanted to find out for herself by diving into the tempestuous waters of his mind, it wouldn’t have changed a thing. Not for her. But it wasn’t because she wanted look past his the mistakes that tainted his former self, nor did she want to sweep it underneath the rug for the sake of focusing on the present. Not at all; it was because she adored him for all of it regardless, and was proud that somehow, sometime, he was able to change, even if it was in the blink of an eye. because she had changed, too, was once a different person than she is, now, the girl who cherished this moment of raw, unbidden confession. If she were to berate him for what he had done — or didn’t do — she would be nothing but a hypocrite, who deserved just the same amount of judgement. As she ran her thumb along his, she knew that there was no explaining how she changed this quickly. How she went from a girl who shunned the idea of romance to adoring this man in front of her for more than just his angel-like appearance and the warmth he gave her. She adored every bit of him, and while she could expound on it with articulate detail, words would never be enough to describe exactly why her heart fluttered as much as it did with just a single smile he sent her way, when it never deviated from its routine meter in the presence of another. That, she can never tell. If he, or anyone were to ask her for the reason, all she could tell them is that “it just does”. With a tender kiss pressed onto his forehead, she smiled, the utmost adoration flowing from her eyes as she pulled away to look at him once more, before rolling over where she lay to face the wall, back towards him as she scooted until her back hit the warmth of his chest. Reaching behind her, she took his hand in her own, tugging on it lightly to press kisses upon each knuckle, then bringing it around her waist, as if showing him how to embrace her like this for the first time, when it was hers as well. “You make me a better person,” she admitted sheepishly with a stifled yawn, looking over her shoulder to meet his eyes. “I’ve never felt more like myself than I have with you.”

[post deleted by owner]

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Kaladin hummed, half distracted by the way she had taken his hand in hers, their fingers lacing together so naturally it should scare him. Everything about this was so easy, when he had watched his friends and family falling in and out of love, make a big deal out of every little thing, whining about it in the aftermath. Perhaps it had been the reason why Kaladin himself had always steered things away from getting serious with his previous trysts and flings, had avoided getting too close and in return people getting under his skin. Maybe that made him a coward, he thought with a small smile, pecking her knee when his eyes had followed her gaze to the mess of wrapping papers and present boxes still on the bed. "I don't know if you're the weird one", he muttered after yet another beat of silence, thumb brushing against her wrist before he slowly let go of her hand, shuffling around on he bed until he was able to collect the mess of paper beside her, fingers carefully smoothing each sheet out against his knee while he was speaking. "It's not that /you/ scare me. Or that I'm scared of, you know, this? Yeah, this. You and I being together." A glance, filled with something almost bordering uncertainty, even though his lips stretched in a grin, one shoulder lifting in a shrug when he continued: "I guess we're both weird, then. I'm too lazy to properly clean up tonight, babe. You kind of woke me up earlier, you know?"

Chuckling to himself he folded the papers now stacked in his lap, pushing them into the box that still held the turntable, carefully shutting it before he set it down on the bed, nearly losing his balance and falling to the floor with it, cursing softly under his breath when he straightened up again, running a hand through his hair to brush away the stray locks that always insisted on curling into his forehead. "I wouldn't have been able to", Kaladin whispers after a moment of simply sitting there, setting one gift box after the other down on the turntable. The thought had been spoken out loud before he had been able to stop it, a sense of sudden clarity washing over him before he turned back to her, scooting over into the space he had just cleared. And he was still talking even when he laid down beside her, one hand tucked underneath his cheek, the other reaching for her fingers almost as if the movement was unconscious, as if intertwining their hands came as second nature to him already. "I never did. Hold someone I mean. Even with my ex girlfriend I... I never held her when we fell asleep. I only slept next to her because it seemed to be important to her. That makes me kind of a ty person, huh?" A laugh, amused and yet mellow, the memories of waking up in an unfamiliar bed, uncomfortable and ready to flee bubbling up inside his chest once more. "I was surprised by how much I wanted you in my arms that night, actually. I don't think I've ever... wanted that? I guess? But with you I... I kind of want all of that stuff. That's what you do to me, Emerald. You make me want to be a better man. But I think I already told you that, didn't I?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Emerald let out laughter that was brighter than any laugh she had let out before, the pitch high, and was sure to be heard by passersby (if there were even any at this time of the night) outside of their building. Her teeth, that were normally hidden behind an expressionless demeanor, were in full display, as her dark eyes coruscated with an overwhelming elation that she was certain she never felt before. To think that it was all because he only had switched their positions in bed, flipping her over to lay on her back, taking her by surprise that was evident in the wide eyes lit with excitement, even though the action was so simple, so mundane, that even she wondered why she felt so much delight in it. It was only then did she realize how easy it was to appreciate the simple things, and how much joy his actions gave her even though they were small, seemingly insignificant. It was always so easy with him. Kaladin had always been so good at surprising her, at making her stumble in daze of bafflement, at making her heart skip one too many beats while the butterflies in her stomach went wild with frenzy. She hadn’t smiled this much before, she realized, hadn’t felt such bliss with another person even if the only thing he did was smile. “No, you /are/ perfect,” she refuted as her cherry lips turned upward to form a faint curve, laughter dying down as she remained still on the mattress, eyes focused solely on him. The dim light that made through the little separation between the curtains were enough to shine light upon all the features she had adored from the very start, including the faint dusting of amber freckling his tan complexion. “So perfect.”

Christmas felt like Christmas in the late hours of that night, but it was not because she was in London instead of the confining walls of her family home. No, it was because she was in London with him, hidden in this rickety old building with nothing else but the luggages and torn wrapping paper sprawled around them, and the words they spoke into the empty space between. And yet, despite the absence of clean, white walls, and fresh garlands that smelled of pine, she felt nothing but contentment as he stared at her, lost in thought and leaving her with nothing but to look at the smile on his face, barely illuminated by the tiniest bit of light outside their window. There was comfort in the silence, in the warm touch against her bare stomach, and Emerald couldn’t help but feel like she was home at last. And oddly enough, the thought didn’t scare her at all, even when she thought the idea of being so comfortable with someone pushed her away before. But maybe, just maybe, it’s because she finally found satisfaction and warmth in this otherwise cold world, and all she wanted to do was to keep it in her embrace. To keep him by her side, as long as he’d let her. “Likewise,” she whispered with a faint simper, reaching out to hold his hand, her smaller, dantier fingers lacing with his, fitting all too perfectly despite the difference in size. “But it doesn’t scare me. I’ve never felt this comfortable before.” She confessed with a quiet chuckle, biting into her lower lip for a brief second. “Maybe I should be scared but I’m… not. So if anything, I’m the weird one. It should scare me because this is the first time I’ve ever had someone like you, and even then I know that I’ll only ever want you. And…” she trailed off, diverting her attention to the wrapping paper and boxes on the bed beside her. “Once we clean this up I’m more than willing for that; for you to hold me. I’ve been wanting you to since that night I called you.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：daniel ironwood。⁰² Raven had enough of dates already, which number was it now? fifth? eighth? She wasn't sure anymore because on any free space in her schedule her family made sure to push an arranged date in like it was normal thing to do. But her family was exactly like that, her grandma and grandpa met just like that and that lead into great wealth. But where was love? Even if some called Raven an ice queen, she still realized that marrying someone without love was useless. Not that she was interested in looking for one though. Despite having unwanted date scheduled, the youngest Rowle woman wore an elegant, red dress. The long fabric, gently followed her steps as she entered the leaky cauldron, a location she didn't choose herself but it she didn't mind that much ether it only meant all eyes would focus on her... and Raven loved attention. (dress: https://i.imgur.com/jId5H7K.jpg https://i.imgur.com/jJSGwsn.jpg ) Her eyes roamed around the place to find a man who could be possible her date. Quite surprising of how many lonely men gathered at the place, some waved at her, some whistled since nobody was as well dressed as the female pure blood.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Her reply had him breathing out a gust of laughter, the kisses she placed on his lips in rapid succession making him smile into their lip-lock, his fingers painting warmth into her skin where the hem of her shirt had ridden up across her hips and the small of her back. It was a pure touch, only skin on skin and Kaladin thought that he could spend the rest of this life right here, right in this moment - a porcelain pair of lovers, suspended behind glass and water inside a crystal ball, as the world around them slowly ceased to exist beneath a blanket of snow. It illuminated the world outside, the sky a muted orange with the glow of London somewhere out there, throwing it's gentle glow across Emerald's face, what with her turned towards the light. And, god, she was breathtaking.
"Oh?", he made, still chuckling as he laid a hand across hers that was resting on his chest, tongue wetting over his lips before he lifted his other hand, nudging the side of his index against her chin. "You know that's not true, love. I'm anything but perfect. But..." It was easy to swing them both around, pinning her beneath his body on the mattress, missing the mess of wrapping paper and present boxes by nothing but a hair's width as he lowered her down onto the pillows and the sheets, pressing feathers of kisses into her temples, her cheeks, to her nose and lips, words broken and disjointed between the claim of affection he laid upon her features.
"If you didn't know already, I might have to tell you know. I thought you heard it in my song but..."
Kaladin's hands were gentle where he held her wrists next to her head, fingers laced with hers atop the fluffy pillow, her hair splayed out around her like a halo of spun moonlight, golden where it rested against the bleached white of the pillow case.

"You are sweet and I adore it", he whispered into her ear, pecking its tip, running his lips down the side of her face before laying another kiss against her cheek. "You are brilliant and I adore it." As he spoke his fingers traveled across her palms, over the fluttering pulse sitting in her wrists, down to her elbows. "You are a mess and I adore it."
Finally sitting back onto his knees, Kaladin allowed himself to simply look at her for a moment, hands resting just beneath her ribs, thumbs brushing back and forth in thought as he studied her. Weeks before he would have longed for this in a different context, would have wanted her to wrap her legs around his waist and bring him in, feel her breath against his ear in a reckless moan. Now, in the light of a thriving city and encased in snow, all he wanted was to hold her. The though was foreign, perhaps a little scary. The things she did to him, so easily and effortlessly at that, should scare him out of his mind. And yet all he felt when looking down at her was an emotion he didn't have a word for, not yet. It was there, lingering somewhere on his tongue like the cherries of a long forgotten summer dream, fragrant and sweet. Or perhaps it was the taste of her lips, of the words she had so reverently spoken, as if they were coming from a place so deep within her, all her walls had dropped tonight. And maybe they had, while he himself struggled to put into words what he was feeling, what was flickering in and out of existence behind his eyes. "You make me want things I've never wanted before and I adore that too, even though it scares the out of me, princess", he confessed with a sheepish smile, resting his chin against her knee where it was propped up against his side. "Because all I want to do right now is fall asleep with you in my arms. I think I wanted that from the very first time you called me after a nightmare. To just... I don't know. Hold you until you sleep. To maybe make you feel safe in my arms and fend off all these evils that plagued your mind. Is that... weird?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ It was the flutter of her heart that made her wonder. That made her rethink all these years, the times she shut out the possibility of finding a bliss that was different than the rest. A contentment that was so pure, yet so comfortable despite how overwhelming it felt in her body, it being foreign and unfamiliar compared to what she had experienced before. Emerald, in her grim and unimpressed demeanor, had experienced bouts of mirth here and there with people she shared laughter and even the smallest hint of a smile with. No, the concept of happiness was not foreign to her, she had a taste of it several times, but never had quite enough that it felt like this. Because she had shut out the world that was filled with light and dwelled in the shadows because she was too focused on her misery, the bitterness that aged her and whittled her morale to the point of no repair. It was her own doing, she knew, she was the only one who made her feel as empty as she did before. But Kaladin, with the smiles and words that left his saccharine lips, had done exactly that, repaired her spirit while reintroducing color in her life, so vibrant that she wasn’t sure if she had seen colors this vivid before. Was this what happiness should be like? Viewing the world in vibrant shades, yet still, seeing him glow much brighter than the moon above this decrepit building, bright enough that its rays had seeped in through the windows? Had she noticed it before? How his raven curls, so black in this dimly lit room, cascaded around his eyes so perfectly it framed them? That his dark brows, black as his hair, made him look so strong, so focused even when they weren’t furrowed? Or that even when the darkness of the room stripped the color of everything inside, his complexion, highlighted by the tiny bit of light, made the color of pine in brown sugar stand out all the more? Oh, his eyes. His beautiful eyes. She was lost in them again, she knew, but she couldn’t help it. She hasn’t seen anything like this before, or maybe she did. If she did, she wouldn’t have remembered them, because his eyes, laced with bright, scintillating happiness, held a familiar darkness of hidden anguish in them that she had seen a glimpse of that night at the tower, and for some reason, it made her all the more intrigued.

The words he spoke in a whisper against her lips had her smiling in elation, her own tiers tugging in an idiotic grin that could only have surfaced in front of him. At first, she wasn’t sure if she heard it correctly, if her mind had become inebriated by the scent and taste of his lips, and fooled her into thinking that he would say such a thing. So devastatingly sweet, that it seemed too good to be true. But she had, and though it was not a proclamation of love — far from it — it was more than she had expected to hear. At least, not at this time. But hearing it felt strangely relieving, and at first, she didn’t know why. But her heart fluttered and the butterflies in her stomach did, too, and she immediately knew. How could she just see it now? It was so obvious to her, with the way she smiled so brightly even with the slightest of his touches, with the way she cried tears of joy just because he had gotten her a bracelet, and the way she calmed so easily just being encased in his arms. She had felt the same for a while, too, but she never acknowledged it until now, because her mind, idiotic and filled with self-doubt, always took far too long to catch up. No, this was not happiness. This was not just bliss or mere contentment. This was euphoria. “No, I didn’t know,” she mumbled against his lips, pausing to place several kisses there before whispering: “I adore you too, Kaladin Ravenwood.” She lingered for a moment, letting time stand still as she breathed all of him in, the notes of cardamom and cedarwood strong in his cologne, though not overwhelming, even when it only barely faded after hours of wear. She placed one more kiss at the tip of his nose before pulling away, so she could see him, see all of him, and the way he looked seated underneath her. He looked so handsome even like this, she thought, with his disheveled hair and sleep-ridden visage, longsleeve crewneck loose yet fitting perfectly enough that the creme fabric lightly defined the muscles underneath. Her gaze fell onto the pendant on his chest, and she placed her hands just underneath it, resting comfortably on the curve of his pectorals, and she was sure she felt his faint heartbeat undereneath the palm of her hand. “You’re so perfect,” she breathed, thumbs gently grazing his chest through his shirt. “So utterly perfect.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ If anybody had told him a few weeks prior, that he'd find himself sitting in a room at the Leaky Cauldron with Emerald de Lisle in his lap, he would have called them delusional. But despite the part of him that had still not caught up to the events of the past week, he knew that this was reality now. That no glamour, no golden rain, no other place on earth would ever be able to compare to this - not with the smile on her lips, the light in her eyes, the laugh that bubbled over her in her chest and broke free even while her eyes were brimming with tears. Chuckling to himself, Kaladin shook his head in silent reprimand, resting his hands on her hips to steady her when he noticed her looking around, shifting her weight atop him in a way that made him grimace, even if only momentarily. Her weight pulled against the muscles in his upper thigh and he winced, only to in a small breath when she leaned forward, the world becoming nothing but her and her smell, the faintest aroma of the laundry softener his mother used on Kaladin's laundry despite him not being home for months on end. She smelled like home, tasted like the future in the back of his throat and he fell silent, still beneath her when she procured the malachite pendant from beneath her thigh where it had laid to be forgotten atop his knee. Did she notice how her eyebrows furrowed when she peered at the little amulet, how her lips pursed when she concentrated? Or were these nuances only he was able to see, focused on her features as he was now, her beauty magnified by the starlight in her hair and the joy in her eyes, no matter if they were still glistening with tears. And his eyes traveled, pools of burnt sugar and forest leaves, over the details of her features, although nothing seemed to hold his attention for too long. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her even when she had fixed the chain around his neck, fingers grasping the pendant not resting on his chest. There was a tiny mole right underneath her eyebrow, her cupids bow shaping her lips in a pout Kaladin wasn't sure Emerald was aware of. Was this it? The way the world saw her, or was it him?

The kiss she placed upon his lips had his eyes closing, his fingers sliding up her thighs and to her waist, pulling her just a little closer, even when their foreheads were connected, thumbs brushing over her skin beneath the fabric of his shirt hanging loosely off her frame. Her words nearly brought him to his knees, earth turning on a different axis suddenly. It was so simple, nothing more than a thought spoken out loud and yet they meant the world to him. In this ratty little hotel room, surrounded by wrapping paper and the remnants of her sorrow, there was happiness. "Me too", he breathed back, reaching upward to lay a hand into her nape, gently squeezing as his fingers brushed into her silvery locks, mind ablaze with affection and the awe of her beauty. Giving in to the need to kiss her again was easy, had he not longed to do so ever since they had parted ways at King's Cross. To only hold her in his arms and kiss her, nothing less and nothing more. Now, with her in his lap and reality nothing more than a fragment in the back of his mind, he could. Leaning up and tilting her head with his fingers in her nape was so terribly easy, the way his mouth slotted over hers like second nature, despite the small number of times he had been able to do it before. Kissing her felt like breathing, the taste of her lips familiar and yet foreign, like the way his arms wrapped around her to bring her in so close there was hardly any space between them anymore. It was not lust that drove this kiss for him, not the need to feel her flesh beneath his fingers or to marvel at the way she fit into his front like the missing puzzle piece he hadn't known he had lost. Still he did, kissing her as if there was no tomorrow, only tonight, only the two of them in the cold world outside the window. "I adore you", he whispered against when he parted for a breath. "But you know that, right?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Emerald always had the perfect, white Christmas at her family home. The De Lisle Manor was never short of decorations, with green garlands lining almost every presentable room, each lined with silver, just as the evergreen tree was always adorned with silver and tinges of gold, a hue just as warm as the hearth in the living room. The house, in essence, always looked so perfect during the holidays, appearing like a sort of winter wonderland especially with the fragrant spruce and pine, paired with the burning logs in the living room set alight at the first sight of snow. By Christmas Eve, presents were piled high surrounding the well-decorated tree, most of which were wrapped with care for their precious daughter, a little Emerald who once held joyful spirit for Yuletide. But this spirit was fleeting, an apathy that grew as she, herself, grew older. But the presents remained as abundant as they were when she was six years old, and she had always known that it was her parents’ futile attempt to restore the spirit that was once in their perfect, white-haired little girl’s heart. However, no present could ever buy her cooperation, nor can they ever restore the childish exhuberance. No, that was long gone, the moment little Emerald had seen the loss of spirit in her own parents’ eyes. For how could they restore something in her when theirs had already been extinguished? Their efforts, the lengths they went through to please their child, were appreciated, but it wasn’t quite enough. Christmas since the day she had walked in on her mother crying had shifted all she had known, because seeing those crystal tears next to the coldness in her father’s eyes served as a warning that would later haunt her day and night. But tonight, she received the very answers she needed. She lamented, she cried, and had decided that nearly two decades of her expressed bah humbug was enough.

Tonight, light had filled Emerald’s eyes at last, that coruscated all the more with the tears that welled right before they fell. Because these tears were not of the same poison generated from anguish. These tears, crystal with the bit of light seeping in through the windows, fell as her heart swelled with joy, because tonight was the first time in a long time that she felt such warmth. And she knew that it was partially her doing, because, for the first time, she allowed herself to accept that she deserved something good. “I can’t help it,” she laughed despite his rebuke, tearing her gaze away from his warm eyes in search for the green amulet, twisting and turning until she realized that she was sitting right on top of it, the chain pressing against her thigh as she shifted. She shook her head in amusement, the smile on her lips stretching out from ear to ear as she let out a laugh, released like an exhale that she had held in for longer than intended as she momentarily leaned towards him just enough to lift a thigh, pulling the pendant from underneath her. Fiddling with the clasp, she peered at the small, vibrant pendant even though she knew the stone would show on both sides, before ever so carefully reaching behind him to secure the jewelry around his neck. A luxurious piece, yet nowhere near as valuable as him. “There,” she said proudly, fiddling with the pendant now resting comfortably above his chest, like it had been there all along. Then her smile dimmed. For a moment, she fell silent, letting herself breathe, truly breathe, for once. She closed her eyes, leaning against the warm, large hand that wiped away her tears, and found comfort in the silence. When she finally opened her eyes, she saw nothing other than him, tanned complexion dimly lit by the single street lamp outside their window, and thought that he was easily the most beautiful man she had ever laid her eyes on. More beautiful than the necklaces she gave him, or even the twin bracelets they both wore around their wrists. She released yet another contented sigh, and leaned forward to press a chaste, yet lingering kiss upon his lips. She soon parted from him, only to lean her forehead against his as she quietly whispered, “I’m happy.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ The childlike excitement that sang in her voice at her sudden exclaim had him laughing, caught off-guard at her glee and yet he couldn't help it. She looked adorable, what with his shirt hanging off of her the way it did, her chocolate eyes shining with wonder and amazement. This is what Christmas should be like for people, no, for them. Shining eyes and brilliant smiles, the silence and rustling of wrapping paper being torn apart. It didn't matter to him that they were tucked away in a corner of London no sane human should ever set foot in, that their hotel room smelled like cheap moth balls and stale potions, or that the paint was splintering off the window frames. He simply sat there, watching her work her way through the box and the black paper he had painstakingly wrapped the small jewelry box in, finishing it off with a golden bow on top. It was a sight he'd probably remember for the rest of his life and he didn't stop himself when he whispered: "You're perfect, you know that?"
The words were lost to the creaking of the wood around them, to the of the inn and the barking of a dog outside the window, the rattling of trash cans as a spooked cat scrambled away and into the night. And they got lost with her breath of awe as well, his smile growing as he watched her open the box that was held so delicately between her fingers, the red a stark contrast against her skin and the white bed sheets she was sitting on. He hummed in question, leaning back onto his hands, head cocked to the side just slightly, eyes twinkling in the dark as he did nothing but watch her. He was getting better at that, not running his mouth a mile a minute at every chance and every beat of silence between them. With her, silence was easy, it was comfortable even.

"Yeah", he breathed out at her question, holding up his right hand, the light of the single street lamp outside their window catching on the metal around his wrist. Yet the smile that had been gracing his lips just seconds before fell in a matter of heartbeats, the sight of a new wave of tears welling up inside her eyes having his eyebrows furrow. He had seen her cry tears of joy before, that night on the tower and while he knew it wasn't a riptide of sadness catching her and dragging her back out onto the open sea, he didn't care. He didn't want to see a single tear to fall from her eyes, not tonight. "Oh baby girl", he chuckled, pushing the box to the side, nearly toppling his own set of presents off the mattress as he reached for her, pulling her easily into his lap once again, lips kissing away each and every little teardrop that escaped the cage of her raven lashes. "We're not going to do this now, alright?", Kaladin muttered, pulling back just enough to look at her, smiling. "Give me that." His fingers were gentle as they plucked the tiny red box from between hers, prying the bracelet free from its velvety prison, lacing their fingers together as he raised her left hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles the moment he let the ring of rose gold click shut around her wrist. "No more tears tonight, Emerald", he told her then, almost sternly, if not for the way he brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, if not for the tenderness dripping from each and every word he spoken into the space between them. "Unless they are tears of pleasure. Those are negotiable. But please don't cry again, okay? I think if I see another tear falling from those beautiful eyes of yours, I'd might as well be heartbroken forever."

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Innocence was not the absence of desire indeed, she realized as soon as she had spoken the words that laid claim upon him, although it came out in the form of a harmless request. She watched as his eyes glimmered to match the mirth painted on her rosy tiers, and at once did her smile grow, brilliant as the moon beyond the walls of this rickety building, horrendously worn-down yet she was more than happy to think it her home for the next few weeks. The inn was, in fact, not as glamorous and clean-looking to her taste, but the dazzling smile that Kaladin wore was enough to brighten even the dullest of rooms. “How do you know I didn’t mean it that way?” she murmured in jest, lower lip briefly caught in between pearly whites as she held his gaze. A chuckle had followed soon after, and at that moment, her sudden gaeity had confirmed that Kaladin was, undeniably, the antidote that she needed. Was she not in tears just minutes before, pouring her heart out to him as her entire being broke in thousands and thousands of glass shards? Breaking on his lap, aching in his arms? Had she been in despair just minutes before, it wouldn’t be easily detected at this point in time. She was laughing as if tears weren’t stinging her skin previously, contentment washing away the hurt in her eyes as she looked into his. Indeed, he was her medicine, the only thing to numb her pain and allow her to smile as brightly as she did in the trail of a heartbreak. The pain beset in her heart had not been forgotten, though, but only pushed aside, as she fixated on the very thing in front of her. A man who cherished her for all that she was; whom she would cherish as long as he’d let her. If she could see him smile like this every day, she would not have a care for anything else in the world.

“I might have gone a little overboard,” she confessed with a sheepish grin as she pressed a kiss upon his cheek, her heart thrumming in her chest as he began to unravel the first box covered in brown wrapping. Just a few days before, in particular, the day after that magical night in a winter wonderland, she had taken time to search online for his presents, immediately knowing that she wanted to gift him a necklace when she saw that all he consistently wore was a gold coin and chain around his neck. She had no desire to replace it, it was clear that it held special value to him even when she never asked, but perhaps, with high hopes, he’d wear a necklace she’d give him, a token gifted to denote her adoration and appreciation for him. She’d only hope he’d see it, too, with the pendants she had carefully picked out. To think that it’s only been a week since they had exchanged their hearts to one another was a baffling reality that she had yet to fathom, because never in her life would she expect to find such joy in a single person. It’s only been a week, and yet, it has been the happiest she felt in a long time. Mistress Fate truly did have a method to her madness, didn’t she, putting together two souls that were broken. Whether they were meant to be each other’s, to mend each other’s hearts, was something that Emerald wouldn’t be able to find the true answer to. People weren’t meant to belong to one another. She didn’t believe in true love or fate, or that each star in the sky aligned with another to represent a pairing on earth. Yet, she couldn’t ignore how right she felt in his arms, how at home she felt in his presence.

It was surprising, how blissful she felt just sitting on the mattress, watching as his fingers carefully unwrap the box, careful not to tear her handiwork. As if he saw how much effort she put into just wrapping them alone, even though to her, it was just wrapping paper made pretty to encase an even prettier gift. It was the little things that felt the most meaningful, wasn’t it? She had yet to delve into his mind, to experience whatever he was thinking first-hand, but she didn’t need to. He had let out a laugh, breathy yet so genuine sounding in her ears, and she couldn’t help but laugh, too, anxiously awaiting his final reaction towards each and every piece of jewelry she got him. Three of which had notes of their own written with her very own lettering, each both a representation of him and what he had made her feel. The largest piece, and perhaps her favorite, was a wave carved in gold, the empty space above it decorated with pavé diamonds of nearly the same hue; and encased within the different stones — a raven, to represent a part of his family name. A pendant of the ocean, turbulent and so vast; a portrayal of the changes in their lives that crashed over them like a tidal wave, and a reminder that change was the only constant in life, not their troubles. For the water in the ocean will never always be the same as the water seen and touched just minutes before. Just as her life had changed that night at the tower, when she had, for the first time, let someone else — let him see her cry. When she had let him see how fragile she was behind this façade put up for everyone else to look at, because she, truly, was only just a girl who searched for security in the answers she seeked, so she could finally be content with herself. And while she had gotten her answers, Kaladin provided her with reassurance that her family wouldn’t have been able to give her, that she would never have the strength to give herself. For he was the bird who soared above the waves, the first sign of hope in the aftermath of trecherous storms.

“I hope you like them.” Oh, the joy she felt, that scintillated in her eyes and toothy smile ading her features when he mustered to voice out his gratitude. It was so genuine, so pure, a happiness that she would have never thought she’d ever feel, all brought on by this man she felt so much adoration for. Seeing him open presents was much more rewarding than receiving presents herself, she determined, because there was nothing she wanted more than to see how brightly his eyes lit. If he hadn’t given her any, she would have been content, knowing that he liked what she had gotten for him. His happiness, for her, was enough. He was enough. But he had gotten her a gift, too, and the thought that he cared just as much as she did to give her something was just as fulfilling a feeling. “Oh, no you really shouldn’t have,” she laughed, pulling herself up to sit on her knees atop the mattress as she marveled at the incredibly large package he held under his hand. Her gaze flickered to meet his eyes once more at his request, and smile only grew wider. “Of course,” she murmured, leaning over to press a kiss upon his lips.

“Now, gimme!” she exclaimed, her brown eyes filled with excitement as she grabbed the box from him and pulling it towards her whilst looking around for a letter opener somewhere, though she was well aware that they wouldn’t have a knife, at the very least, considering their lack of use for one. Without a second thought, she stabbed at the middle of the box with the sharp corner of her nail where the tape sealed off the opening, dragging it to rip it open completely, with absolutely no difficulty as if she’d done it before. The first thing she pulled out, of course, was the folded paper sealed with red wax, with an imprint of laurel leaves, a touch that both surprised and amused her, as she didn’t expect him to finesse something so simple. Carefully pulling the wax from paper, she unfolded it, reading it with eager eyes and a wide grin before shifting her attention to the smaller box wrapped in black and embellished with gold, to which she, despite her impatience, unwrapped as carefully as she could. “Oh, Kaladin,” was let out as a breathless whisper when she recognized the gold lettering on red, slowly opening the casing as her eyes became starry with wonder and amazement, for the present he had given her was, in her mind, more incredible than he made it out to be. It was only then when she noticed the matching, rose gold band he wore around his wrist, and came to know what he meant when his letter mentioned a counterpart. “You got us matching bracelets?” she asked as she met his eyes, her own welling with tears once more. “Kaladin… I… this is beautiful.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Innocence was not the absence of desire, Kaladin realized when he met Emerald's eyes once more at the sound of her voice, eyes crinkling at the corners when he saw the smile that finally grazed her lips in what seemed like merciful healing, the tempest that had been brewing in her eyes and in his own mind soothed by the sudden calm that came over the both of them. Like ointment rubbed gently into a sore spot, only stinging ever so slightly after. And so he allowed himself to chuckle at her words, eyes closing briefly in a display of mirth, before he muttered: "Now that sounds kind of suggestive, don't you think?" Her arms were little to no weight on his shoulders, yet they felt like an unbreakable chain around him, a field of gravitation that was impossible to escape from, was he not only a speck of stardust pulled into her orbit where she was sitting on the bed before him, clad in nothing but his shirt and underwear. And while he would have longed to touch her any other night, would have done so without a second though were she anybody else, all he did was smile down at her before bending over and pecking the top of her silvery hair, tenderly unwinding her arms from where they were resting around his neck after she had placed such a devastatingly affectionate kiss into the corner of his mouth.
"But alright", he whispered as he parted from her, albeit reluctantly, reaching around her to untangle the duvet he had thrown off in a haste earlier, pulling it back onto the mattress from where it had nearly slipped off the opposite side, trying to wrestle down the flutter of his heart beneath his ribs. He was sure if she were any closer, she'd be able to hear it drumming away in a hectic staccato, beating so fast he could feel each pulse of blood through his veins just beneath his collarbones.

It had been quite some time since he had willingly shared a bed with anybody and perhaps Emerald knew. Perhaps she knew that he had never taken his time to stay after he had been tangled with a person in the throes of pleasure and need, had fled the scene of the crime shortly after the deed was done and he was free to leave. The last time he had slept in the same bed as another had been with Irelia, the very morning he had realized that he could no longer be with her. Although she had been beautiful in the light of a new day, innocent where she lay breathing quietly between the sheets, Kaladin had known that very moment that he could not stay. And a part of him was afraid that in the morning, he'd feel the same with Emerald. What if he would open his eyes, would look at her sleeping face next to his own and come to the same conclusion? Would he leave, run as he had before? The thought alone scared him, startling him enough to make him pause where he was kneeling on the bed to straighten the sheets and fluff the pillows for them to finally get some rest together, what with their minds a fractured mess of pain and old scars breaking open. Emerald's movements had him flinchin, eyes flying over to her as if he was afraid that she had read his mind in that moment, seen the thoughts swimming past with the violent current of his fears. Yet she didn't seem agitated, didn't even spare him a glance as she stood from the bed, leaving him confused and even slightly amused when he found his eyes traveling down the length of her back and to the hem of his very own shirt brushing over her thighs, toeing the line between alluring and innocuous in such an obscene contrast, Kaladin couldn't help but smile, sitting back against the pillows to watch just a little longer.

No, innocence was not the absence of desire, as he had just proven to himself, all worries wiped clean from his mind as if someone would have done with the condensation on a mirror after a long, hot shower. How could he even think he'd ever feel the need to walk away from her when, in reality, she was everything he had ever wanted and so much more, even though he had been utterly oblivious to it. When she returned, carrying boxes wrapped in paper, adorned with green, he felt his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead, smile growing bemused as he remembered her text messages just a couple days prior. "So this is what you meant, hm? Several", he snickered, reaching out to her to pull her back onto the bed, the packages now between them. His fingers were nearly trembling when he pulled the strings off of the first present, taking his sweet time to unwrap it to reveal a jewelry box inside, a breath of laughter exhaled through his nose when he opened it. It was a necklace, golden and shining even in the absence of light around them, a tiny lion's head adorned with diamonds. It honored his house and he knew it and yet he stayed mum, reading the note coming with it carefully, setting the box aside soon after. The second present was just as perfectly wrapped, the necklace inside just as beautiful and yet it wasn't the piece of jewelry that had him looking up at her, throat clogged with sudden emotions, tongue wetting over his lips nervously before he shook his head and began opening the third box, fingers freezing when he revealed the pendant inside. A vibrant green amulet, simple as it was. "Oh", he made, helpless, stunned into silence as he lifted the chain from the box, turning it over in his hands, the bigger box between them suddenly forgotten. So he sat there, eyes flickering back and forth between the chain and her eyes, throat bobbing when he swallowed and whispered: "Thank you, babe. They're beautiful. I'm... wow okay I'm actually speechless, sorry."

The abrupt awareness that Emerald not only possessed his heart but also the ability to render him dazed the way she had done before had him laughing, leaning over the last package to press a kiss against her cheek, patting the box with the flat of his palm as he pulled away again. "You're seriously spoiling me, you know?"
With that he got to work, the malachite pendant resting gently on his knee as he unwrapped the last box, letting out a quiet gasp as the paper fell open. "Come on, you're kidding me", he breathed out, running his fingers over the edge of the turntable now sitting between them. "You shouldn't have", he decided then, looking back up at her, eyes shining with adoration and amazement. "Wait", he told her, pushing the turntable to the side, pecking her cheek once more, before scrambling for his wand on the nightstand, pointing to the large parcel he had packed for her the day before. "Accio parcel", he whispered, the large box easily floating towards the bed with the aid of the spell. "I can't top this, but... yeah." With a hand rubbing at the back of his neck he let the box down where her presents had been sitting before, the grin falling from his lips as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.
"Merry Christmas, baby girl. But... when you're done opening yours, would you maybe like to put this on me?" He was holding up the pendant between them, knuckles resting on the package, right above her name and address and the irony was not lost on him, a smile flickering into existence on his features, even though it was nothing but a tiny spark of mirth, compared to the adoration residing in his gaze.

@－ ❛ s ❜：raven rowle。⁰⁴ Daniel does not feel very up for this. That's the thought that goes through his mind as he sits at the Leaky Cauldron, waiting for his "blind date". It's not that he's against meeting someone - or maybe he is, but that might just be the Minjun inside of him speaking - but not even knowing who they are, and them being picked out of his "parent's" friend circle... he doesn't have high hopes, to say the least. Honestly, if it weren't for the death glares he got when even suggesting this was a bad idea, he probably wouldn't even be here due to that bad feeling. He decides to suspend his judgement though, until the other arrives. He owed them at least that and trying to be interested, and all.. date-like. So he adjusts his hair and clothing until it looks perfect, then calmly takes a sip of one of the drinks he had pre-set for the two of them, only to notice the other still had not shown up. "When will they come.." He mumbles under his breath, slightly shaking his leg.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ “For this.” It was a whisper, barely audible like the rest of the words spoken, but it was much clearer even uttered beneath the wind of a breath. Because her eyes, although dimmed with the pain that ailed her, coruscated with an unequivocal gratitude for him, for the words said, for the way he held her so delicately in his arms that it seemed like he was afraid to break her more than she already had. Like he could crush her if his touches weren’t careful enough. Kaladin had always been so gentle with her. He always handled her with the feather-light touch of a benign carefulness as though she was the most delicate thing on earth; perhaps a fairy that was no larger than the palm of his hand, with transparent, paper-thin wings that were crumbled and torn at the edges. Unable to fly, a small little thing that was so broken that he might break her completely if he closed his hand. But he was careful, he always was, as he studied her underneath an observant gaze, as if to be sure that he didn’t pull even the smallest twitch of a brow and the slightest wince of discomfort from her porcelain face. He took her in his arms that were larger and stronger than her own, lifted her up off the ground, as though he saw how she couldn’t lift herself, with the torn wings that were transparent underneath the sliver of moonlight seeping in through the curtains. He had, in that moment, and perhaps countless times before, become a guardian of sorts, a benevolent being that only sought to care for the fragile little thing that was her, annd maybe even repair that broken wings on her back so that she could fly and soar above the clouds, just as she had seen him do. He was, in her eyes, an angel — no, a fallen angel, because he was on the ground with her, instead of soaring in the heavens. A perfect, seraphic visage that was near perfect; near, if it weren’t for the pain he held in his eyes.

But Emerald was no fairy. She had no wings. She was not a little creature that needed caring for. She was just a girl, whose heart has been broken a thousand times, who needed someone to give her the time of day not only to see how broken she was, but to understand why she was so broken. Just as Kaladin was no angel, because he was just a man, who tried to be strong for another, when his heart was breaking, too. Two broken souls, put together by Fate, a cruel mistress who enjoyed seeing an individual’s suffering collide with another’s, because she knew that that was what built a foundation for something like this. Something so strange, so unexpected that Emerald, herself, didn’t see coming, with her seeking out the embrace of the lover she never expected to have. She didn’t realize how much she longed for his touch, his kisses, the smile that brought so much light into her life, especially on the darkest days, until he held her in his arms. Or the eyes that held so much warmth, so much clemency that she thought she deserved none of it. He was utterly beautiful, perfect in her eyes despite the flaws he had shown her that night at the tower, and wanted nothing but to focus on him instead of the things that had troubled her for too long. Because he was all that mattered at that moment. That smile, comforting and offering her solace, was all that mattered. If this was what it was like to be falling for someone, she didn’t mind falling, for however long she did, or however long she has been.

As he helped her out of her garments, gentle as he removed them, she felt strangely comfortable, as though he had done this to her several times before. He stripped her free of her clothes, left her bare and uncovered, and even more-so when she reached behind her back to unhook and remove her brassière, but it was all so innocent, so pure. Nothing of the lust that was in his gaze the last time he had done so. Nothing that mimicked the intent of the last time he removed her clothing. No, this was a genuine gesture of his doting affection, with the kisses he left on her lips, on her cheeks, on her temple, and the skin that remained cold, especially in the short time that she had nothing to cover her. Feather-light kisses just like the touch of his fingertips, peppered all over her body, and her heart, frail as it was, fluttered with mirth, just as the butterflies in her stomach moved their little wings. There was a faint dusting of rose that decorated her cheeks, but it wasn’t because they were kissed by the cold air of winter, or because she had just finished crying just minutes before, but because the unfamiliarity of such great reverence in his actions had left her speechless and flustered where she sat, as she watched him with the faintest, yet foolish simper that curled upon the corners of her lips. She shook her head at his inquiry, leaning forward to curl her arms around his neck to pull him close, whilst softly peppering thankful kisses upon his cheek. “No, just you,” she murmured as she pulled away to look into those warm, brown eyes with a smile that grew in size, with joyful adoration that she only felt around him. It didn’t stay for long, however, when she shifted her gaze to the large box and luggage splayed just in front of the door. She furrowed her brows, as if in deep thought, contemplating on whether or not it was too early to celebrate. But, perhaps, ending the night with a good note wasn’t a bad idea after all, what with the both of them had to endure on what should otherwise be a spirited night. Pressing one last, lingering kiss at the corner of his pretty lips, she stood up, smoothing out the oversized shirt draped over her tiny frame, the hem hanging just a few inches below her behind, and made her way to the alarmingly large emerald-green suitcase. Wordlessly, she crouched over it and laid it on its side, zipping it open to find two wrapped boxes surrounded by neatly-rolled clothes, one significantly larger than the other. Her gaze flickered to him as she picked them up as she straightened to stand, walking towards where he was seated on the bed and handing it to him as she said, “Merry Christmas, my love.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Time was nothing but a feeble construct in a moment like this, wrapping around them like golden threads over black and blue as the silence stretched after his words. Reality in itself seemed worn thin, as if everything was slowly bubbling to the surface between them, a truth that none of them had yet spoken out loud. Because, in truth, Emerald was here with him and not with her family, although he was sure the broken pieces of whatever her family had once been could have been mended. She was here with him, his to hold and patch together tonight. Mistress Fate surely had a strange sense of humor, what with bringing them together the way she had, just shy into Christmas when both of them could have easily been broken and ground to nothing but diamond dust, scattered with the winds of this cruel world they both had awakened to one day. Kaladin knew that Emerald hadn't been meant to be his from the start, now that would have been a foolish idea. What with her world of glittering jewels and the pure blood running through her veins, while he was nothing but the lost boy who had followed Peter Pan into a magical realm, leaving behind family and friends, only to realize that Neverland was utterly lonely and perhaps it would have been better to just dissolve in the waters of society's ideals. Emerald, in all her beauty truly was the little porcelain fairy spinning atop a music box of sweet lullabies, dusted in the colors of the stars and moon, so delicate in his arms he had felt like he was tainting her whenever he touched. His very own, right then and there, her crystal tears like the fairy dust that would, one day, make him fly. Or maybe he already was, had leapt off the tower like Scarlet had told him to, only to realize that he had already fallen, lifted up into the sky by that very fact. Because Peter Pan had grown up, striving to be a better man for this broken little thing sitting in his lap. He would fly, if he had to, just to never see her cry again.

Truth was, that they both weren't supposed to be here and yet it felt as right as nothing ever had. He could have been on a flight to the States that morning, spending Christmas with his family in an overpriced hotel, could watch the ball drop in New York with his arms around his mother and sister as he had done before. Or he could have been alone in this giant house in Christchurch, drinking his sorrows away, spending the rest of his winter break nursing hangovers and eating greasy takeout food. Instead he found himself in the darkest, most hidden part of London, with Emerald in his lap, so devastatingly pretty even in this fragile state of hers. What a cruel sense of humor Fate had, fusing the two of them together in a way Kaladin started to think was becoming irreversible, even though it had only been a week since they had found each other atop the tower. Like magnets, always pulled back together, despite the world trying to pull them apart by standards of society and judgmental believes.

The smile that graced her lips not soon after he had spoken felt like breaking dawn, that tiny sliver of light at the horizon after the darkest of nights and Kaladin found himself smiling back, even if only faintly. They were caught in a moment of frail peace, thin as spun sugar and starlight and his eyes fluttered closed at the touch of her lips against his, only to open again at her whispered, barely audible words. "Not for this", he gave back, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, head tilting with the motion of his own fingers. The tan of his fingers looked like molten copper against the white of her hair even in the twilight of the room, like an union of colors he had never seen before and he heard the notes of her song playing out in his head, stronger than ever.
"Let's get you out of these clothes, ok?", he muttered, smiling up at her, cupping the back of her head to pull her into yet another tender kiss, nothing more than an innocent display of truthful affection. "Let me take care of you tonight. We are both exhausted, aren't we?"

His fingers found the hem of her turtleneck, the white fabric clinging to her like a second skin, but for once Kaladin didn't care for the curves of her body or the silken feeling of her skin beneath his fingers as he brought the shirt up and over her head, carefully making sure not to hurt her. No, for once he didn't look at the flesh exposed to him in the darkness of their room, or the pink of her lips, his own finding her cheek and then her forehead as he dropped the piece of clothing over the edge of the bed, smiling up at her as he smoothed back her hair, letting it cascade down her back in glorious golden waves. "Come on", he urged silently, pushing against her thighs in a quiet command, sliding her off his lap and onto the mattress so he was able to slip away and reach into the second bag he had brought, fishing out a large shirt of his own to tuck over her head. He took his time, humming under his breath only to realize that it was none other than the song he had written for her the night after exams had finally been over, his voice breaking over the phone and only hers anchoring him. he could have stopped, right then and there - could have stopped the song resounding in his mind, could have stopped his fingers from pulling down the zippers of her boots and sliding them off her feet to be tossed aside and forgotten til morning come. Again, there was no witness but the moon and the darkness of the world around them, not when he helped her out of her pants, pecking the tiny cap of her knee before he got up from where he had been kneeling on the floor before her. "Do you need shorts, baby?", he asked, bending down just enough to hook a finger underneath her chin, making sure their eyes met as he spoken, uncertain if she would have the strength to delve into his mind in this moment. "Or something else? We can just lie down, if you want. Tonight you won't have to settle for only my voice over the phone, if that's what you need."

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Why knowing her heritage broke her heart was confounding, when blood didn’t matter to her. It never did; she knew that family is found in those who were loyal and would sacrifice all for one another, while her parents were anything but, with the secret they had locked away, out of her grasp, even though she wore the clue in the form of long, curly strands that were the color of the moon. The De Lisle lineage meant little to her; traditions seldom mattered. If they did, she would be at her parents’ home, dressed in an emerald green dress and entertaining guests with a glass of champagne in a gloved hand, instead of being at this abandoned street in a crummy old inn with a man that she had only been with for shy over a week. A man that did not at all meet the guidelines of her blood line, because he bore a red crest instead of green, and had muggle blood coursing through his veins. And yet, despite the expectations and centuries-old tradition, she chose him over the rest, especially the family that so claimed to care and nurture her, to protect her above all else. Because she had turned to him by choice, gravitated to him naturally because her heart yearned for his embrace more than she did her family’s. How could she? They called her ridiculous. Her words preposterous. Maybe even delusional, for believing that her own parents would lie to their precious, golden-child of a daughter. But they weren’t the ones who listened to her pleas, who even considered that her heart broke at the possibility that their minds held a pandora’s box that she held the key to. Whereas Kaladin, who promised to protect her fragile heart while willingly handing over his own, held her gently in his strong arms, silently listening to the words that spewed out of , barely coherent that she was sure it was all nonsense behind her tears of anguish.

But he understood it all. She had only just poured out her heart completely to him, and yet he knew why her heart broke as much as it did. She saw it in his eyes, the empathy that glimmered in axinite, and found comfort for the first time since she left him at that station. Why she left him in the first place was a wonder to her. She wouldn’t have been the mess that she was if she did, and during the first hour of Christmas of all times. But she knew she was desperate for closure. She wouldn’t have been completely content in his arms, with the unanswered questions that clouded her head. And now that she received it, she wasn’t sure if she liked the answer entirely. The pandora’s box should have remained closed, she thought, but she would have never been content. She wouldn’t have felt secure. She wouldn’t have felt protected, as her father, who was supposed to be her shield against any form of danger, promised to do. Because was he truly protecting her when she knew none of the danger? Secrets never protected anyone except for the person who hid, and she, of all people, knew this. She had become the expert of secrets, and she knew that the longer they festered, the bigger the explosion would be once uncovered.

Perhaps that’s why it hurt so much. Maybe it wasn’t the secret itself that broke her. Maybe it was because it was kept from her for so long that she didn’t know how to react, except feel sadness and betrayal that her father, of all people, would keep something so important from her. She had a right to know. She felt singled out her entire life for a reason that wouldn’t have been a big deal from the start if he had told her sooner. She was twenty-one, nearly twenty-two, and she had only found out that her grandfather was a prominent figure in wizarding history. He was a terrible person, she knew that, many did, but it — now that she gave it some thought — paled in comparison to the fact that her father allowed his daughter to feel like an outcast in her own family. He allowed his daughter to close her heart to the world, to live a life prefering solitude over affection from others, because she thought that keeping things to herself is far better than opening up to those who would never understand. Because she never understood. She didn’t know until now why the color of her hair was nearly as white as the moon, why she looked so different from the rest of her family. The only person to have silvery-blonde hair, while the rest had dark brown. Seeing that that color faded from her father’s hair with a wave of her wand had said it all: he cared little for protecting his family. He only saw that image was everything for the public, for his fame, because if he truly wanted to protect her by withholding the truth, he would have changed the color of her hair the moment he saw that the strands were blonde, like his own. Like his father’s. But he allowed his little girl, the only child he ever had, to feel as alone as she did.

Kaladin was right. As she looked into his eyes, she saw anger, but it wasn’t towards her. It was because she cried, because someone would have the heart to allow tears to fall from her eyes. Emerald wasn’t a good person. She was like her father. She kept secrets, she hurt people, she had broken hearts, had done it in the blink of an eye without flinching once. She deserved to cry, she thought, because she knew that despite her hatred for her father’s selfishness, his ill-advised attempt at “protecting” her, she was just like him, at least, in some ways. But Kaladin didn’t see it that way. He saw her flaws, her imperfections, even pointed it out, and yet, he couldn’t stand watching tears fall from her face, as if it stung him just as it stung her skin. He was angry, maybe a little bit at her, and for good reason. She was beating herself up even though she didn’t realize it, because it was ultimately her decision whether or not she’d let it break her heart even more than it should. Kaladin had now seen her more than anyone else had — maybe more than she had seen herself. And yet he stayed by her side despite the lies and secrets, because he saw that she was more than the misery that tainted her. He saw strength in her, the strength she had forgotten she possessed until she looked into those eyes. He was right; none of it should matter. She was, in fact, no longer alone, and it took her this long to see it.

Kaladin held her in his arms. He was strong, kept her from breaking completely, and despite the amount of tears she shed that night, she knew she would be okay, so long as she let him hold her and heal the scars. Emerald never needed anyone. But the words that he had spoken that night were exactly what she needed to hear. For the first time that night, she smiled. It wasn’t big, nor was it bright, but the faintest curve of her lips were a silent sign of her gratitude. She took in a deep breath and lifted her hands to cup both of his cheeks between her palms, so that she could press a gentle kiss upon his lips. “Thank you,” she whispered, gazing into those eyes that she continued to fall for as each second passed.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Kaladin knew that his words provided nothing but shallow support, not enough to ease the burden that weighed her down so heavily, it felt as if he was watching her sink into a bottomless pit. She was the lady of the lake, waiting for king Arthur in vain, as the times changed and the waters around her had frozen solid. For how long had she been fighting a war that was lost from the very start? He knew what it felt like, the uncertainty. So he stayed mum, watching her almost impassively as her tiny body shook atop his lap, every breath seeming as if she was breathing in shards of glass, cutting her open from the inside out. Kaladin knew that he could have said a thousand things and they would all just roll across her consciousness like raindrops against a foggy windowpane, soon to be forgotten. All he could do was listen, staring up at her face with furrowed brows and a scowl on his features, hands now resting on the subtle swell of her thighs, thumb still pressed against her knuckles. He still remembered the way he had reached out to her that night on the tower, almost the same way and now he wasn't sure anymore if it had been because he had wanted to calm her, or himself. He was selfish and he knew it, but listening to her tale of heartbreak and deceit barely touched him. His heart broke for her all the same, every tear falling down those beautiful cheeks felt like a knife to the chest and yet he was oddly removed from it all.

Maybe he should have stronger feelings regarding the topic of her heritage. And maybe he should feel weirded out by the revelation about her father, but all he felt was utter and honest empathy. To him it didn't matter what her parents looked like, who her family was. And yet he could hear his heart shattering for her, could only imagine what it must have felt like to realize that, all these years, her family had been lying to her. Her own father, who should have been a strong hand to lead her, a shoulder to cry on, the strongest arms to protect her, had deceived her all her life. His own troubles seemed mundane, compared to this. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow they were one and the same. The things Emerald must have been feeling for years were no different from what he felt whenever he thought about his sister. Was Scarlett right, perhaps? Had he been adopted, had he been cast out of a family of wizards for being nothing but a speck of dirt on their spotless reputation? It didn't matter that he looked like his father, that he had his mother's smile, his father's hands. Words were like slow poison, eating away at the very bones of ones existence until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of doubt. And what he saw in Emerald right now was exactly that. Doubt, desperation, as if she was questioning who she was, now.

Of course he understood - how could he not? He knew exactly who Corban Yaxley had been. He had been studying the Second Wizarding War, had read all about the infiltration of the Ministry. And, frankly, he had never cared. It must feel horrible to discover something like this about your own family, yet Kaladin knew that he couldn't truly relate to what she felt like. He was a muggle born, after all. It could be the reason why he felt like he should be upset with her, had Yaxley not been the one in charge of Magical Law Enforcement, hunting down "mudbloods" like Kaladin himself. But did it matter? Did it matter to him that her grandfather was a known Death Eater, that he had probably helped slaughtering countless people?

And suddenly, there was anger.

"Okay, that's enough", he decided curtly, letting his hand slip from hers to reach up and cup both her cheeks between his palms, forcing her to make real eye contact for the fist time since she had stepped over the threshold of this room. "You'll listen to me now, Emerald. I won't repeat myself. Who your grandfather was does not change who /you/ are. Corban Yaxley, alright. So what? Will you let that define you, or are you Emerald de Lisle, the smartest, most silver-tongued and strongest witch I've ever met in my entire life? And as we both know, I've met quite a few." He breathed in, felt as if he was exhaling fire when he went on: "Your family lied to you and I despise them for it. But to me it doesn't matter if your grandfather was a Death Eater. It doesn't tell me who /you/ are as a person. Why should it, Emerald? If we let the past define us, then we will always be split up into purebloods and muggleborns and I've had my fair share of scorn when I grew up, because my parents were both ordinary people. So what? That only means I am the outstanding one in my family. I understand what you feel like. And we will discuss your family later. But I can't stand sitting here and watching you cry over something like this, when it should not dim your light. Because, in the end, you're not them. You're their daughter, /his/ granddaughter. Yet you're yourself and nothing more. You're the girl who loves her companion, who studies hard and has the sweetest smile that could light up this entire bloody city, if you wanted. You hold the world right between your hands because you are Emerald de Lisle. Even if you were Emerald Yaxley, that would not matter to me. And if you need something else to define you, then let me tell you this."

His thumbs were tracing the tracks her tears had left across her cheeks, almost as red as blood against the pale of her hair. "To me, you are imperfect. You have edges and scars and demons. And all these imperfections are nothing but facets that make you so perfect to me. I just wish you could see all that, even right now with your heart breaking right in front of me. Because I wouldn't change a single thing about you, even if I had the power to do so."

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ “So I had to go home,” Emerald exhaled with trembling lips, looking down at her lap as she shook her head. She was holding onto herself now, keeping herself from shattering into a million pieces. But it was hard, because what she desperately grappled onto was not the solid entirety of her being. They were threads, strands fraying piece by piece and threatening to tear, because she had been holding on for a while now, and the strings that kept her soul intact tore each time she carried on another heavy weight on her own. It’s become too heavy, too large, even when she was releasing it onto him with the force of the tsunami that drowned her over and over again for years. But while she was unleashing it all, releasing it through the broken threshold of the gates that she tried so hard to keep shut, she still suffocated. Strangled by her own tears, and she found that she couldn’t speak anymore. Couldn’t let out a sound that were not just the ugly, despaired cries that filled the otherwise quiet night, that burned her skin with the poison of her anguish. Her skin stung, and the words were stuck, and it was as if the reason why she couldn’t breathe was because her words were lodged deep in . As she cried, as she trembled where she sat, she was gasping for air, and she didn’t know if it was because she forgot to breathe, or because she had washed away into sea again, and found herself in the middle of a storm, riptides carrying her out and underneath the dark waters.

Breathe. She forgot to breathe. That’s all it was. She was still on shore, she realized that, because her body was warm in comparison to the freezing cold, and it was all because of the man that held her in his arms, that shed light upon her frail, soaked body with his gentle gaze. This light, although brilliant against the darkness that she thought she had to succumb to, was gentle, and the longer it shined on her body, the warmer she became. She didn’t realize how much his voice had touched her heart until he spoke, deep and silken like velvet on bare skin, and it had quelled her tears, like an antidote that was potent enough to stop its bleeding. She had grown silent then, only the smallest of sniffles coming from her small frame, as she willed herself to stop her tears so that she could hear him clearly. It was only fair, she thought. She had been talking all this time. Never once had a chance for him to step in, even though she wasn’t quite yet finished. There was more to it, both of them knew, her story unrefined, and the darkest parts of it kept hidden in the shadows where they have remained for the last twenty-one years. But she needed a breather, she knew that full well, and his words only served as the comfort she needed. He supported her, understood a part of her suffering, and that, to her, was more than enough.

Emerald looked at their joined hands, and a sad smile had blossomed on her lips like the first bud in winter, the first bit of color in a thick layer of snow. She felt guilty for lying to him. For keeping a part of her from him despite the promise she made when she gave her heart to him, and taken his heart for her own. But it wasn’t her hiding her hair that felt iniquitous in nature, but the fact that she didn’t share with him what ailed her so, when she had pulled from his mind the troubles that kept him up that very night. When she had shed tears, but didn’t shed enough, and kept some bottled inside, as if she didn’t want to see them fall. Like she didn’t trust him enough to see how entirely fragile she was. But it wasn’t that. It never was. It was herself who didn’t believe that he deserved to see the burden of so much pain and suffering when he had his own to carry. When he too, had shed tears that night, his own soul ripping apart beneath that moonlight atop that tower, with only the winter wind to share the load that weighed heavily on his chest. Perhaps that was the reason why she didn’t share as much as she was supposed to. Why she had kept it in. It wasn’t needed at the time, or so she thought, because both of their hearts were far too focused on finding each other, so they could mend the broken strings before they could tear any more. But tonight, her own strings had broken at the seams, and out her anguish poured, like a dam that had broken.

“There’s more,” she whispered after he had finished speaking. Her voice was quiet, still, but it was clearer now. “I had to leave you to visit them because I needed answers. I knew that I wouldn’t be completely happy if I did. I confronted them, and they made me wait, beause they wanted me to pretend just for a second more to finish decorating the house. Even if I refused, they made me wait a day. Help them with cooking, open presents early. I think they knew I wasn’t there to spend the holiday with them, and this was them buttering me up so I’d forget about it. But I’m not a child. I don’t forget things when they give me a shiny new doll to play with. I argued with them for hours, never let up because I was tired of being left in the dark, with only this face to company me. Then they said I was being ridiculous. There was no way, Kaladin. No ing way I looked like this, when both of my parents has dark hair. When the rest of my family has dark hair. My entire life, I thought something was wrong with me. I thought I was adopted. Maybe I was this charity case they decided to take in. Them basically calling me ‘delusional’ was the last straw. I had enough. I had enough, Kaladin. That’s when I raised my wand at my father, because I needed to see for myself. I used the same spell on him that I used on myself, and god, I wish I wasn’t right. But I was. He had blonde har like mine, and when I looked at him, in his eyes, I saw the same man I saw in his head. It was a splitting image. He didn’t have to tell me he’s my grandfather. I knew it for myself the moment I saw horror in his eyes. But why would he hide that from me? Why is that something to be ashamed of?”

She paused and took in a deep breath, and for a brief moment, anger flashed in her eyes when she let out a wry laugh. It was bitter, angry, and of utter disbelief. “Turns out my father is more an expert at hiding things from everyone than I thought. His last name — my last name is not De Lisle. At least, it’s not supposed to be. It’s his mother’s maiden name. But his father’s…?”

Emerald lifted her eyes, so he could see her for all that she was, including the shattered heart and tainted soul. The single word she uttered out afterwards were almost enough to destroy her completely: “Yaxley.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Perhaps, Kaladin thought while he sat in silence, his hand dropping from the strand of her hair he had so reverently grasped between the tips of his fingers, falling uselessly to his side. Perhaps he should feel betrayed by this, by a revelation that he could - honestly speaking - not care any less about. It wasn't that, not the silver of her hair that shone brilliantly, like a beacon of holy fire in the night, like the reflection of the moon atop of foam-kissed waves during a pitch black night, that hurt him now. It wasn't a feeling of betrayal, really, that had his chest seizing up, muscles pulling tight across his ribs as if they were trying to press the air from his lungs as he struggled to breathe. Her quiet words were something he could have easily imagined, silent as they were and yet they didn't matter to him. Not when she refused to meet his gaze, keeping hers trained anywhere but at him. The fact that she seemed afraid to look up, look him in the eye and say what she needed to say, stung like a needle to the eye.

To him it meant, that she feared his judgment. She feared to reach into his mind and hear his thoughts, even though all she would find was concern for her, for the bitter tears still clinging to her lashes. She'd find him longing to reach out and kiss them away, assure her that this was not a big deal to him. It wasn't a lie, per se, to keep her natural hair color hidden from him. It was a detail to her appearance Kaladin could honestly not care less about. And yet there Emerald was, shying away from him like a beaten animal, her chin tucked down towards her chest and Kaladin's chest hurt. It hurt to breathe in, pained him so much that it felt as if he were inhaling the acid smoke of burning wood, wet and fresh and cracking with the flames, raining down sparks of utmost doubt down into his soul, setting it ablaze.

"Emerald", he started, falling silent once more when he realized that she wasn't done talking, that the words seemed to bubble over her lips like a bottle of sparkling water, shaken violently before being cracked open. It washed over him, so sudden and unexpected that it seemed to knock the wind out of his sails, the waters that had carried the boat of his thoughts so surely now lost in stagnation out in the open sea. And so he sat, stunned into silence by his own pain and the story she told him now, feeling as if this was the last thing she had been holding back, truly. Still it felt like a picture without certain colors, unfinished and empty around the edges, the missing details minor enough to be ignored while his mind reeled to catch on with her thoughts, with her words, with her emotions, while his own slammed into his chest like a brick. He felt like the deer in the headlights of a speeding car and the driver at the same car, knowing that the crash was inevitable, no matter what he did. The more Emerald said, the harder it got not to interrupt her, not to let his voice grow bitter even when he only hummed. It was a feeble attempt at letting her know that he was still following her, that he was trying to understand what she told him, even though it was hard to. It was so hard, not to focus on the way she still didn't look at him, just kept talking and talking and talking, until her words were swimming together with the lack of air, her breathing so shallow she could have stopped breathing altogether. Kaladin knew he should be upset. A lesser man would have been. No, not a lesser man. Any other man, who didn't have a melody playing his heart whenever he laid eyes upon her. If it weren't him and the damned song that lit up his souls in the brilliant colors of an aurora borealis against the dark backdrop of midnight blue, he would have stood up and left her. For she had promised to be honest with him and she hadn't.

Hell, if he cared.

, he couldn't care. There was not a single spark of anger flaring up inside of him, no matter how hard he searched for it. No, instead he was oddly calm when she in a sharp breath and directed her gaze at him, finally. He was calm when he breathed in himself, tongue running over the back of his teeth in thought, a crease between his strong, dark eyebrows. Kaladin knew that he might have looked angry to her, were it not for the fact that - if she wanted - she could literally read his mind, his emotions. She wouldn't find any, not now. All she would find were memories of his own, bittersweet like summer wine and yet he looked at them, detached. When he exhaled, his expression smoothed out with it, lips pursing for only a heartbeat of two, before he started speaking, voice so low it felt like waves on gravel inside his throat, eyes refusing to let hers go for even a second, silently commanding her to keep their gazes intertwined. As were their fingers, the moment he reached for her hand, pressing his thumb into the hollow between two of her knuckles, as if that simple touch would be enough to make her stay mum while he talked. "You are not a different person to me, just because your hair has the color of spun starlight, Emerald", Kaladin assured her, even if the words came out slow and careful. He paused, his head tilting while he collected his thoughts, as if they were droplets of drew, caught in a spiderweb, gleaming with the light of breaking dawn.


"You are not a different person to me, just because you have nightmares of a man you've never seen in your life. If... if anything, it strangely calms me to know the reason for your imsomniac wandering. And if I have to be honest? I'd say I should be thankful that it haunted you enough to leave your bed, your room and even the dungeons. For these nightmares are the reason I get to hold you as you cry, the reason I am able to kiss these tears away, if you let me." He exhaled, chest rising as the air struggled through his throat, his eyes flickering down to his hand holding hers, the bracelet he had gotten for himself as a counterpart for the one that laid forgotten in his box of presents. The metal shone against the honey tan of his skin, reflecting the little light they had and he smiled, suddenly reminded of the true color of her hair by that simple, tiny reflection.
"Emerald", he started again, then, looking back up at her face, the hint of a smile tucked into the corner of his mouth, like a secret kiss to be stolen, like the first bud of a flower that conquered the cold of winter, peeking from beneath an unforgiving blanket of snow. "Maybe it's not obvious to you, yet. But there's something that changed. Something that might not be a big deal, I know. You're not alone with this, anymore. And I've been singled out of my own family since I was a child, simply because I am a wizard and no ordinary muggle, so I understand what you must have felt like, all your life. You've seen it, haven't you? Inside my mind? And if you think it matters to me? Your heritage, your hair color, any of that? Then you're wrong, Emerald de Lisle, because I'm not in this for anything else but you. If you want and need my help to solve this riddle, then be it. I won't abandon you and if you even dare to think that I would, even if it's only for a second... you'll be in trouble."

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ “This was supposed to be your Christmas present,” she whispered, voice cracking at the seams. She was barely audible as she spoke, and if it weren’t for the dead of the night, it was possible that her words would have been drowned out by the creak of a footstep on wooden floors, or maybe a gust of wind, if the window was left open. But it was the dead of the night, and the building was still, while the streets outside were empty. It was a ghost town; even a pin drop could be heard at this hour. However, she was quiet, very quiet, and she wasn’t sure that even the man, who held her close in his arms, could understand what she said. Not especially when she kept her chin tucked to her chest, gaze directed to her lap as she refused to look at the locks that shifted in tone, or the eyes she usually found solace in. Her head hung low in shame, afraid that if she met those warm eyes, she’d see betrayal and hurt, because she had lied to him once more, kept a part of herself from him despite the vow she made that night at the tower. Not that she needed to look at him to know; his voice was crisp with disbelief. If she met his eyes then, she was sure she’d crack once more, and tears would fill her eyes again. But she needed to speak, he asked her to, and she owes it to herself to finally relieve herself of the burden that weighed heavy on her chest.

“I made a promise that night that I wouldn’t lie to you; that I wouldn’t keep anything from you. This…” she gestured to her hair, frail digits combing through the locks that have lost their colour, hair reflective underneath the moonlight that seeped in through the curtains. She nearly grimaced in discomfort when she finally brought herself to look at the strands of blonde, the hue so pale that it was almost white. A color so pure, almost like the coating of a unicorn, so beautiful yet cursed in its guise. It always served as a reminder for the deceit and lies that tainted her family. A picture-perfect set of three that looked so happy with photographs, all with beautiful hair the color of dark chocolate. But that’s all it was, wasn’t it? Picture-perfect, but not quite the same in reality. Because the silver-blonde strands that fell upon her feeble shoulders were yet another thing that she kept hidden from the rest of the world. She had only realized then that her whole existence was covered underneath a disguise — like her father, who was an expert at smiling at the cameras but not at his wife who, also kept secrets from their own daughter. It was a cruel reality, but she played along anyways, because she, too, had learned to pretend things were alright, even when misery festered in her heart. “This was the last thing I needed to show; the last thing I kept secret. Turns out I was also lying to myself.”

Emerald paused to take a deep breath, and only then did she realize that she had forgotten to breathe. So she shut her eyes, allowed herself to finally breathe after being suffocated for so long. She didn’t realize how long she was drowning, how the breaths she took every single time she rose to the surface did not count, because gasping for air right before a wave crashed onto her again was not breathing at all.

“I never told you what kept me up that night,” she began. “Why I found myself in the tower past midnight. I couldn’t sleep. I had these pictures — images in my head that I saw when I looked in my father’s eyes. He was lying to me about something, or at least, kept it from me. I have known for a while. Maybe my whole life, really, since I looked different than both my parents. They told me it was probably in my dad’s genes. That it was a recessive trait or something, and it just so happened that I’m a rarity. This is not supposed to happen, you know? The only person with hair as blonde as my own when everyone in the family tree had dark brown hair. I didn’t realize that a hair color would make a person feel so out of place, until I started feeling out of place. So I changed it. But my hair grows fast, and muggle hair dye can cover it for so long until the blonde starts showing again. So I asked my mother to change my hair with this spell that I now use when I need to, and I never looked back. Or at least, tried not to. No one knows my hair is this color. Well, except my family. But not even Atticus, or Luciel, or… well, you get it.”

She lifted her gaze once in an attempt to look into those eyes, to see how he handled all that she told him. But her shame was a weight that she couldn’t lift, and she found herself looking at her fingers as they played with the ends of her strands.

“I know it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s just a hair color. Just hair. But I felt so out of place. It didn’t make sense to me.” She took in another deep breath. “Last summer, I saw this face. It’s been bothering me since. It was a man. Blue eyes as deep as the depths of the ocean, with a downturned mouth that almost looked like a snarl. He wore a suit. He always wore a suit, and it made him look like he could kill with just a single look of his eyes. His eyes… they strangely looked like my father’s. A coincidence, maybe? A lot of people have blue eyes, but father had deep blue eyes like his. But that’s not what was frightening about him. His skin was fair, yes, near the same shade as my father’s, but not as fair as the hair atop his head, silver and brilliant like the moon in a starry sky. Like mine. He’s all I’ve been thinking about all semester, and even if I try to get him out of my head, I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t sleep because of him. I tried, Kaladin. I ing tried.”

Finally, she met his eyes, and the breath that she drew in was sharp, because the moment she looked at him, she felt herself crumbling again. Tears started to brim, and she closed her eyes once more, refusing to cry. She couldn’t cry now. Not when she wasn’t finished. But her own eyes betrayed her, and she was crying once more.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Those with the brightest smiles, those with the strongest exterior, often broke in the most terrible ways, cried the most bitter tears. Words had never been a necessity between the two of them, Kaladin knew. Not when the crescendo of her pain echoed through his mind like a song of its own, pouring into him with every broken sob, muffled against his chest, his shirt soaking through with her tears and he felt helpless where he sat, with her in his arms, unable to do more than simply holding her, shushing her ever so gently even though his own throat was clogging up with her pain. Whatever it had been to shake her so badly, it must have been horrifying. And right now, in this simple little room, tucked away in the darkest corner of this bright, glowing city, Kaladin wished - if only for a moment - to possess her gift. To look into her mind, pluck the hurt from behind her eyes like a frosty flower and crush it between his fingers, only to make her smile again. What a cruel place earth must be to make her cry the way she was right now, so small and brittle and fragile in his arms. But god, she was still beautiful, even in her darkest hour. For her to be this vulnerable, it was the most terrible and at the same time the most astounding thing to him.

"It's okay", he whispered, over and over again into her hair, like a broken mantra, forlorn as he was at the lack of explanation, the lack of words. He'd never complain. If it was what she needed - his arms, his chest to cry on - he'd never dare to push her. No, for he was her lifeline and he knew it. And so he held her, king of a silent kingdom with the only girl who had ever broken through his cloudy reality like a ray of pure light, illuminating the snowy world beneath. Forgotten was the ache behind his ribs, the emptiness that had carved itself deeply into his chest at the utter loneliness of his own home, the world narrowing down to nothing but this. Them. As if it were meant to be, from the very start. And Kaladin knew that after this, after her, the world would never be the same. He was getting ahead of himself and he was aware of it, but oh, she held his beating heart in those tiny hands of hers, just as he held her in his arms right now, almost scared to hold her any tighter, as if he could cut himself open on the shards of her suffering.

The days and months and years before the night in the tower felt like nothing but lies - sweet nothings he had whispered into his own ear, night after night, looking at himself in the mirror until he wasn't able to recognize his own features anymore. He had grown numb, face blind to his own true self, to the feeling of allowing himself to have something. Have something true and real and perfect, lest he'd taint it with his own darkness, pull it into the abyss of his soul, let his demons get a hold of it. Emerald had her own, dragged out into the open this very moment and Kaladin hungered for it. Like a startving man at the brink of death, he cherished every second of it, although his own heart was splintering with every tear he felt seeping through his shirt and into his skin, almost as if they were tiny branding irons, staining not only his skin but his flesh and bones as well, sinking into him until they reached the silent drum that was his heart, for it would always remember this very moment. Would always remember her and the way she fit against him - no matter if she was strong and impassive, or if she was small and fragile. She was perfect, even when she pulled away from him after what had felt like hours, eyes bloodshot and cheeks stained with the tracks her tears had left on her unblemished skin. He made to reach for her, to open his mouth and speak, although words failed him as he searched her gaze, eyes flickering down to the spot on his chest she touched so softly, almost as if in apology for soaking the material through. And while he had longed to see her smile as another man would long for air under water, seeing the way her lips stretched, scared him.

"Emerald", he began, voice dripping with concern, his eyes following the motion of her hand as she reached for her wand. He froze, muscles locking in confusion and apprehension, eyebrows knitting together above his dark, forest colored eyes. They surely were as black as the night right now, just as her own, betraying the worry that flared up in his chest at the look on her angelic features, the way she refused to meet his gaze. "What is wrong?", he heard his own voice asking, only to fizzle out in the silence of the room like bubbles in a glass of champagne, golden and yet useless. The spell she uttered was barely audible over the sound of his thundering heart, hands flexing where they were resting at her waist, as if refusing to let her go even for a second. He stayed mum, even as her hair lost color before his very eyes, as if it was breathing in the light of the moon itself, so pale in color it appeared to be white in the twilight of their room. The breath he let out sounded as if she had punched him in the sternum, mouth opening around words that refused to fall from his lips, stuck somewhere in his throat like shards of crystalline sugar. "What...", he began, liftting a careful hand to touch the end of a lock that had fallen over her chest, thumb and index grasping the silky strand, not quite tugging, not quite holding, as his gaze became hectic, frantically traveling between her hair and her face, tension bleeding from his muscles in something that felt like defeat. "Emerald... what?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ Something truly did shatter that night. But it wasn’t her heart, the fragile piece in her chest that had already been broken before. No, this time it was her soul, the very being of her that was already hanging on by a thread, the filaments tearing piece by piece every single time she questioned all that she had known. It was her sanity, for she had discovered that what she had known were lies after all, and she didn’t know what to believe, who to believe, and certainly had no idea what it meant for her identity. She knew looking into the minds of people would drive her insane at some point, but she didn’t know that it would occur in her very home, with the people she was supposed to trust her life with. The two people who swore to protect her, to never lie to her, to be honest and loyal. Always. Family. Blood is thicker than water, they said, but she knew this was never true. Home felt off. It had for quite some time. At one point, it felt like a cage she willingly returned to every break, growing to loathe every single minute spent more and more whenever she looked in her parents’ eyes. The eyes that showed kindness and warmth to her, but not of the truth. No, there was always a darkness that lingered, as if they hid something from her, from themselves, even, and she didn’t know what it was until that day.

She didn’t realize that she had been walking on a tightrope all this time, afraid to look down and doing her absolute best to maintain balance, so as to not fall to the dark abyss beneath her. A hell, she thought, that would finally claim her and drown her in the very nightmares that haunted her each night, with the pale face of a white-haired man who had eyes as dark as the night. She held on for too long. She never fell, constantly overcome with obstacles of heavy breezes and a gale that would have been enough to knock her off, if it weren’t for her tenacity. But because of what she endured, she became more and more worn out, weak, and she was unsure if she could take any more. Unsteady. It’s what she became over time with the uncertainty that festered in her every nerve. Today, however, a riptide — no, a tsunami, had crashed into her and forced her underwater, suffocating her beneath the surface as waves thrashed on top of each other, currents pushing her further away from the light that she saw at the shore. She held on, though, grabbed ahold of what little will she had, and when the tsunami had quelled to a lesser malevolence, to only violent waves, she used whatever strength she had left to swim to shore, to push against the tides and swim towards that lighthouse. And once her feet hit land, she ran. Ran as far as her feet could take her, before collapsing in the building where she found warmth.

Kaladin Ravenwood was the lighthouse. He always has been. A beacon of light, a guiding force, someone she automatically turned to even when she didn’t know she needed him. But while she needed him for strength, for direction, his light had shed upon all the flaws and imperfections, including the tears and holes in her soul, and she knew that he could see her for as weak as she was. But she didn’t mind. She was tired of fighting, of hiding everything in the dark. She didn’t care if she was seen, if he saw her, because he had already seen a glimpse of her soul underneath the moonlight once upon a time, and this was her bearing it all for him to see. As he held her frame, delicate and shattering in his arms, she allowed everything she held in to break threshold. She permitted all tears to wreck the dam of her strength. In his arms, she had come undone, succumbed to her unsteadiness, and let herself appear weak. Because she was weak. And if anyone were to see her in that pathetic state, it would be him. She felt safe with him, sane, even; because the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.

It felt like hours. She didn’t know when she stopped crying, when the tears on her cheeks were nothing but the stains they left in their wake, stinging her skin with the poison of her misery. But she had fallen silent for quite some time, maybe a few minutes, her shakiness ceasing as she had become still in his arms, comfortable yet stiff with the discomfort that lingered. A weight was still present on her shoulders, she could feel it, but it had lessened at the very least. Whether it was because he carried her in his arms and shared the burden with her unknowingly, or because part of that weight were shed with her tears, she didn’t know. She took in a deep breath, and as her lungs filled with air, she felt as if she forgot to breathe that entire time. Pulling away from his arms, she released a sigh, gaze not quite meeting his, instead focusing on the damp spot on his chest. She touched it once, tapping it with a finger, before turning her head to reach inside her coat and pull out the hawthorne wand hidden in the inner pockets. Shifting her gaze to meet his, she let out another shaky breath, a small smile splaying on her lips. But it wasn’t one of gratitude, nor was it out of contentment. It was apologetic, almost, as she lifted her wand, pointing it to her hair.

“Revelio.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ Something had been shattered, that night in the tower. Something that had been as strong as marble, as precious as jade, split underneath the pressure that had been building for years - Atlas' shoulders, cracking open under the weight of the world. It had been a deafening sound, a painful one even, the way everything had snapped around them, only to be suspended in time like the glass dome of a delicate, forever dancing figure. Once shattered, there was no going back, it seemed. The single ford, those mundane two letters that fell from Emerald's lips were proof enough for Kaladin. Her eyes were as black as the night in the little lighting provided to them, her small body shaking where she was still standing outside the door. He was unsure if he could touch her, lest he'd damage the fragile construct of vitreous self-control she was holding on to so tightly. Yet it was her, reaching out for him and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he did the same, welcoming her into his arms without preamble, arms wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head tenderly, even as her tears soaked through the thin material of his shirt. Truly, something had been shattered.

"I got you", he whispered into the darkness of the hallway, leaning forward slightly to tug both his present box and her luggage into the room, kicking the door shut with his toes, never once loosening his hold on her slender body, shaking in his arms with the most heartbreaking sound he had ever heard in his entire life. After the tower, he had hoped to never see her cry again - a foolish, childish prayer that had fallen from his lips in the depth of the night, uttered out of nothing but selfishness, were her tears not like droplets of acid, etching themselves into the back of his mind to never be forgotten. "It's alright", he assured her in the softes of voices, fingers carding through her hair as his head leaned against hers, words quiet in her ear. "I got you, Emerald. It's going to be alright."
He wasn't lying, although his words sounded hollow to his own ears, as if he was only repeating the words of a broken record, like a father promising their child their broken heart would be mended, although it felt in that moment, as if the world was ending. With anybody else, he would have recoiled from the weight of her emotions, would have pushed and pulled and made a joke out of this situation, as if fixing the cracks in both of their souls with nothing but plaster would ever be enough. But this was Emerald and this was different. It had always been, long before it had stopped being a game to him.

With her still in his arms, he guided them towards the bed, side-stepping the mess of bags and wrapping paper on the floor, tugging her easily into his lap as he sank onto the edge of the mattress, never once letting her part from him for longer than she needed to. "Let's get you out of this coat, hm?", he muttered, eyes warm where they were resting on her face when he did pull away, thumbs brushing over her tears in a reverent imitation of their night on the tower, fingers careful where they were resting against her jaw. Broken and still the most beautiful think Kaladin had ever laid eyes on. But no, none of them was broken, not really. They weren't quite there yet, not quite, the cracks only beginning to fill up with liquid gold. Shattered things were to be the most precious thing, after they were fixed with gold, a testament of them being destroyed and yet healed to be something so much more than that. Let the world see that the both of them had been hurt, broken. And let the world see that to him, Emerald was the gold to fill all his cracks and imperfections, if only he was the same to her. "Do you want to talk about it?", Kaladin asked slowly, fingers gingerly undoing the buttons of her coat, pushing the garment off her shoulders so he could wrap her back in his embrace, hiding her away from the world once more, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, fingers back in her hair and softly stroking down over the length of her spine, counting each and every vertebra as he went.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ She didn’t realize how heavy her chest weighed until she laid her eyes upon him the moment he had opened the door. It was automatic, like magnets attracted to one another, the way her eyes, weary and dry from the shed tears and cold weather, instantly gravitated to meet his tired gaze. Pools of dark honey laced with gold and a faint shade of green — the kindest eyes she had ever seen, and the only pair she had ever fallen for. They appeared as she had remembered, the image unwavering in her mind, never leaving, never fading and it was as if she had never left his side, and if she did, this was her coming home. Just like one would do in the walls of their home, she had shed all that she wore to brace herself from the outside world, the layers of clothing worn in attempt to keep warm within the brisk, London weather, composed of snow and ice, that not only fell from the sky but where present in the stares of both the familiar and unfamiliar, including those of her parents. She had not moved a single muscle, not blinked once, and yet, she felt herself come undone underneath his gaze, just like that night in the tower. When she allowed him to see all that was her, a girl that was frail; a sheep hidden in wolf’s clothing. She feared she’d do the same tonight, unraveling before him in the middle of the hallway, unable to move from where she stood as she felt herself become frail, afraid that she would collapse to her knees if she even tried to take a step further.

“No.” It was a single word, but her voice was broken, fragments of it stuck in the back of . She wasn’t sure whether to reach out, and even if she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to. Not when she knew that she would come undone completely once he held her in his arms, no matter how strong they were. But she knew she needed him, she needed his embrace, needed something to hold onto, because all this time she felt lost, a lone boat in the middle of the ocean, with no knowledge of the direction she would go. Kaladin, now standing before her, was the lighthouse she had been looking for all this time, and now that he was near, she needed to go to him, or else she will be lost once more. Unanchored. Stranded in the midst of belligerent tides as the storm of her own distress churned in the clouds above her. She never needed someone before. Never relied on another person to quell her tears, to mend the fractured pieces of her shattered heart. She never relied on someone else to be strong for her, a pillar for her to hold onto, for her to stay upright. But today, she had had the wind knocked out of her lungs, and all pride left in her body dissolved with a truth she should not have uncovered. It wasn’t what she expected; nothing could have prepared her for what she discovered. But she faced it anyway, exploded in her face, and she came back with scars that may not heal, not even with time. But maybe, just maybe, Kaladin would be enough to subdue her pain. She needed him. And that alone was enough motivation for her to take the first step forward.

“Kaladin I'm sorry, I...” she began, tears falling from her porcelain cheeks as she reached out, her arms desperately circling around his waist as she choked back a heartbroken sob. Normally, she would tell herself that she didn’t deserve to cry, that there was no reason for her to be upset, when he was the one left stranded in this decrepit, dilapidated place on his own, when she promised she would return the day before. She had broken a promise, she had never done that, and yet here she was, arriving just after the clock struck midnight, her own unhappiness dampening on what they hoped would be a wonderful holiday together. But anguish had filled her, and not even her own will, as strong as it normally was, could push it aside. It had haunted her for months, years, even, and now that the truth has been unleashed unto her, it was not something she could sweep under the rug, as she normally would. She had buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in his embrace, and all words have been drowned out by her own cries of despair.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ He had awoken around dinner time, limbs heavy and skin slick with sweat, the turtle neck he had been wearing when he had fallen asleep earlier nearly suffocating him. Kaladin had rolled onto his back, bleary eyes looking up at the ceiling, at the cracks in the paint and the spots of white on the high window frames, his sluggish mind still piecing together the fragments of scattered dreams that were still flying through his head like fireflies on a lazy Saturday evening, low above the ground and fleeting. His limbs were stiff, his eyes were itching and his bones ached even when he pushed himself into a sitting position, hand ruffling at his hair while he searched for his phone. The device had slipped from his pocket while he had been sleeping, half pushed underneath his rumpled pillow. Seven unread messages from his mother. Of course. Not a single one from Emerald, even though she had opened their chat. The sharp pain racing through his chest almost felt as if he had pulled a muscle, as if something was stuck between his ribs, making him rub a broad palm across his sternum, a frown etching itself deeply into his features. With a scoff he tossed his phone aside, watching it bounce off the mattress and nearly slide off the bed, stopped by a crease in the blanket. He needed to get out of these clothes, he decided, eyes still lingering on his phone, as if he was tempted to call her. Simply to make sure she had arrived savely, of course.

The pain lingered, even while he got up from the bed, peeling himself out of his clothes and dropping them over the end of the bed, searching for a pair of sweatpants and a cashmere sweater his mother had given him for his birthday the year before. And still, when he was dressed and took a sip from the bottle of water he had bought for himself on his shopping trip, the pain remained. It was lodged deep underneath his skin, like a splinter he had pulled while climbing a tree, itching, uncomfortable. It was a foreign feeling, one that confused him enough to freeze where he was crouched in front of his bag, digging around for his toothbrush, the room bathed in darkness and nothing but a streetlamp outside to break through the blackness surrounding him, throwing an orange gleam across the room, painting the white sheets the color of honeyed whiskey. What he felt was disappointment. Fear, even. How strange, he smiled to himself while he pulled away from the bag, heading to the bathroom to freshen up and then fall right back into bed. It was late already - so late, in fact, that he doubted Emerald would arrive today. He didn't allow himself to linger on the thought that, maybe, she wouldn't come back at all. No, sleeping was much easer, the bottle of Rum his parents had gifted him for Christmas tempting and yet untouched where it sat in its brilliantly red box at the foot of the bag.

The sleep he got was restless, the sheets itchy against his skin and the air inside the room too cold an yet too stuffy at the same time. He was suffocating in his clothes, in his shattered dreams and memories of roasting marshmallows on top of the stove, laughter filling the kitchen of their house. It had only been a couple of days and yet these memories were already overlapping with images of Emerald's face, her smile, her smell and the way she fit into his arms so easily, she would surely fit into the picture with his family just fine. It was all too easy to imagine her sitting on the rug his mother had bought for the sitting room, leaned back against his legs as they were sharing wine and stories and laughter with his parents. The idea scared him enough to wake up in a cold sweat, the foreign feeling of /needing/ someone in his life pounding behind his eyes and his brittle ribs, frantic eyes darting around the room. Someone was knocking on the door. For several heartbeats he wasn't sure if it had been his dream waking him, or the sound of knuckles against the wood, the noise ringing through the emptiness of the room like gunshots. "Jesus ing Christ", he grumbled, silently apologizing to his mother for the blasphemous curse spat out on Christmas of all days. Kaladin nearly tripped on his way to the door, angrily kicking the Versace paper bag that had fallen over and spilled its contents across the floor, like little landmines, waiting for his feet.

"What?", he snapped as soon as he opened the door, one eye still closed with exhaustion, mind like cotton candy behind his eyes, raw and creased as he was after such fitful rest. As soon as his eyes found Emerald's face in the twilight of the hallway, illuminated by a single streak of orange light from outside, he grew still. He pinched at the back of his hand with two fingers, blinking rapidly, but her image didn't fade, no mirage procured by his dreams. There she was, looking just a tiny bit breathless, her cheeks red from what Kaladin assumed was the winter cold outside, her coat smelling like snow and ice. "You're here", he whispered, lifting a hand to touch her cheek, almost like the ghost of the tower was still haunting them to this very day, his fingertips reverent as they brushed against her jaw. "It's so late I... Emerald it's dangerous to travel at night. You-" He swallowed, yearning to pull her into his chest and yet he didn't dare to do it, afraid she'd vanish in his hold if he tried. "Are you okay, love?"

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：kaladin ravenwood。⁰⁴ It was nearly Christmas by the time she arrived, just a few minutes shy before the clock struck midnight. This corner, in particular, within the streets of London were completely still, dark except for the dim lights that hung onto the second floor of each building, suspended a few feet above the dilapidated pavement. In the cones of yellow light were round speckles that appeared to fall in an unusually slow pace, gathering at the ground in thick, cloudy blankets of white. She was sure that this part of the city was the darkest area, purporting to be neglected in comparison to the muggle shopping centres adorned with festive lights of red, green, and incandescent yellow, with frills and baubles of a white-bearded man dressed in red, snowmen wearing top hats, and red-nosed reindeers decorating every wall of each building, while ornamented Christmas trees were propped up on every block. This street in particular was dreary, by comparison, seemingly abandoned, perhaps, but it was not for ailed reason. The Leaky Cauldron was not looking to welcome just any kind of visitors or tourists, after all, unlike the plethora of high-class hotels situated in every corner of the city. The inn was unwelcoming, it has been for years, purposefully decrepit to appear unattractive to many, especially of the non-magical kind.

The girl that stood on this street stuck out like a sore thumb in this area of blue and grey, as the light pink coat and emerald green luggage bag were vibrant hues in comparison to the dull tones of the night. She looked out of place, maybe even lost, her stoic demeanor presumed to denote a lack of direction in the middle of an empty alley way. But she had known where she was going, of course, intrepid steps leading her to the doorstep of a narrow, round door, nested in between a bookshop and a record store (both of which looked just as run-down, if not more). Her gloved hand reached out to turn the rusty knob, and before she could open it, she looked around once, wide yet weary eyes taking one glance of the vicinity before slipping through the large-enough crack of the open door, tugging along her luggage from behind her.

The pub inside was equally dark and shabby, and though it was in disarray, she felt as though it hadn’t changed a bit since the last time she came. Of course, there were a few differences; she does not quite remember the old woman who sat by her lonesome at the corner, downing what seemed to be her dozenth beer that night, head dipping onto the table as she struggled to remain upright, even in her chair. Or the glasses that were left on each table, the room reeking of spilled liquor and unwashed hair. It was disgusting, to say the least, but it mattered not, at least to her. All her mind focused on was the promise of a bed, and more importantly, the warmth of Kaladin’s arms. Kaladin. Oh, how she missed him dearly. It’s only been over a day since she had last seen him and felt his embrace, and yet her heart ached to reunite with his. She had gone to her parents in the time between now and the hour she left her lover at King’s Cross, and though she was at home, it didn’t quite feel as warm and joyful as she felt with him. How could it, with the faux smiles and laughter, the artficial Christmas spirit that had filled her childhood home? Christmas hadn’t felt right with them for years; she was a fool to believe it would change once she learned the truth. The truth. Emerald hadn’t the heart to think about it then, with her standing before the front desk with the clerk waiting on her expectantly.

“Emerald De Lisle?” Her voice was shrill, ear-piercing to those who haven’t had a wink of sleep. The brunette nearly grimaced in response, but she had masked it with a small nod. “Yes, that's me.”

Wordlessly, she watched as the girl reach behind her. She’s just a few inches taller than she was, frail with straw-like hair sticking out of her messily gathered bun. Her clothes were haggard, muggle’s clothes, mismatched from head to toe and it was hard to tell whether or not she wore this because she didn't care and found it more comfortable than conventional wizard clothing, or strictly for appearances. Perhaps the latter, judging by the scowl she seemed to permanently wear on her face, even when she was handing her an obnoxiously oversized package. 



“Who is this…” she trailed off as she peered at the address, to which her lips curled into a small, nearly indistinguishable smile, but a smile nonetheless. “…from. Oh, Kaladin, you idiot.”

It didn’t take a second for her to realize that the boy must have expected her not to come, otherwise he would have given her the package in person rather than sending it by owl. It was a fair assumption, she was gone for a day later than she had originally expected, and she had yet to return every single message she received from him. She felt guilty, her heart broke at the thought of him losing hope that she would return, and this was enough for her to waste not a second more of her time — their time. Without another word, she had already made her way up flights of stairs, luggage and parcel trailing behind her mid-air as the clerk had called out to her frantically. Her words were incoherent, she assumed it was to tell her the room number, or at least where it would be located but it was not needed; Emerald had already known the moment she received the package. The room was, from what she could discern, on the third floor, the last door to her left. She could only hope it was correct by the time she had knocked on the door, and though her readings were never wrong, her heart thrummed in her chest as she waited for it to open. She crossed her fingers that he hadn’t already fallen asleep.

@－ ❛ s ❜：emerald de lisle。⁰⁴ There was no denying, that London was one of the most breathtaking cities during Christmas. The entire city glowed with light, with warmth and the smell of roasted nuts and spices and the sound of Christmas songs, fleeting as they echoed across the busy streets whenever the door of a shop was opened, a wave of heat and sound bursting into existence, only to fade away with the icy wind. Kaladin had parted from Emerald at King's Cross, reluctant as one could be, her name on his lips the only goodbye he was able to muster. He knew she'd return before he even knew it and still the thought of having to go home, walk into this lonely house in Christchurch, felt dreadful. His parents had left for Heathrow that morning, his mother had left him several text messages he had dutifully ignored during their train ride back to London, his phone vibrating in his pocket where his thigh had been pressed against Emerald's own, her head resting on his shoulder as she had drifted off to sleep, lulled into a state of peaceful slumber by the rattling of the train, shaking them softly back and forth. Kaladin had been lost in thought during the train ride, was lost now, too, as the city flew past the windows of the tiny black cab he was sitting in, the driver chatting away happily in the front.

Damn, he had missed London. Had missed the ty coffee from Prat a Manger that was warming his fingers, the coffee cup resting on his knees where he had cradled it between his palms. Yes, indeed, London was home. The house with the baby blue door and the vines didn't feel like it, though. The sound of his keys was loud in the narrow hallway, echoing across the sitting room and the empty kitchen. There was a package on the counter, wrapped neatly in bright red paper, completed with a giant golden bow on top and Kaladin found himself smiling as he read his mother's gift card, completed with a sentence in Korean, reprimanding him for not picking up his god damn phone. It still felt like home, a little bit, despite the cold and the silence. Falling asleep on the couch, the TV running in the background was odd, despite being nothing new.

Sloane Street was packed, to say the least. Every store was stuffy with heat, suffocating with sounds and the smell of stress, every store clerk turning his way with narrowed eyes, only relaxing when they saw his attire and, in den end, his credit card. God, he hated it.

Walking into the Leaky Cauldron had never felt so freeing, even when his purse was heavy with coin and his arms were loaded with bags and parcels. The young witch working the front desk didn't even bat an eyelash at him, the corner of even turning downwards in distaste when Kaladin dumped his belongings in front of her, sweaty and breathless. "Room for two, please", he told her, rummaging around his purse, frazzled and stressed as he was, hair surely sticking out in every direction possible. She sniffed, slightly amused, but didn't offer anything else, simply sliding a key across the counter and Kaladin had never been more thankful for the lack of conversation than he was right now. He just wanted to sleep. "Oh", he made just as he was about to turn away, nearly dropping his bag. "One more thing... uh... can you send a parcel via owl tomorrow morning?" There was no guarantee that Emerald would come back tonight, what with her parents surely wanting to spend time with their daughter on Christmas. He had taken his time to have the presents wrapped, had even mustered up enough courage to go into the post office and buy a bigger box - which was ridiculous in size, if he was being honest. "Emerald de Lisle", he said, cursing under his breath when he set the box down on the counter, fingers lingering on the letters of her name. "I'm waiting for her so, uh - but if she doesn't arrive tonight, can you send this to her?" (https://padlet.com/blessmedaisy/h0t6okex9h32jxde)

He didn't even care for the interior of their room, bags and the rest of his shopping bags and packages dropping carelessly to the floor at the end of the bed, his coat draped over them with little to no care in the world as he crashed into the bed face fist, toeing out of his shoes as his eyes were already pulling shut. Just a couple of minutes, he promised himself. A short nap before Emerald would arrive. Or not. It didn't really matter, right? Like this, sprawled out across the bed with one foot still hanging over the edge, he drifted off.