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G’raha Tia was an entirely new man without the crystal, far more open and free with his movements and expressions than he was as the Crystal Exarch. It was a stark contrast some days, as he gleefully discussed his research once more, as well as gape in awe at Scions or their associates because oh, I read about her in history books or his deeds were—will become—legendary! If any of the people of the Crystarium saw him like this, they would’ve been absolutely floored by the contrast.
But for Moonflower, the most noticeable difference was at home. She had long owned a house in the Lavender Beds residential area of Gridania, and as soon as he was deemed recovered from his experience with switching bodies and merging memories, she brought him home. G’raha took one look around and then looked at her. “It’s perfectly you, my love,” he said, and the grin on his face made her blush and feel utterly flustered for some reason. It wasn’t as if he had said some outrageous compliment, or that he hadn’t grinned at her before, but somehow it was different this time.
The first time he sang was for their babies; it was a means to lull them to sleep as well as assure them that he was their father. Their twins were unsure about the strange man until he sang or hummed to them, and eventually they would accept his new face as their father. Moonflower listened to him that first time and when he looked over his shoulder at her, her ears twitched in flustered embarrassment.
Oh, all right, she was forced to admit to herself, he’s different now, and attractive in a different way… in a… much more… youthful way. Even in her own thoughts she felt flustered! Before, she thought she was the one to fluster him, but apparently he could do the same to her a lot easier than she had believed.
She felt hot when he looked at her over breakfast. She blushed when he touched her hands. Her heart skipped beats when he held her close. It was like she had never fallen in love before or something, with how he made her feel.
“Why are you blushing?” he asked one night as he rubbed a towel through his hair after his bath. “Have I forgotten soap in my hair or something?”
“You know you haven’t forgotten soap in your hair,” she told him, and looked away so that she could finish brushing her hair.
“You didn’t answer the question,” he said in a sing-song voice, and came over to the vanity so that he could rest his chin on her head. “Why are you blushing, my love?”
Turning redder, she didn’t meet his eyes. “Your hair is down.”
“And so is yours.” His fingers began playing with strands of her lavender locks, making her sigh and cover her face. “What difference does it make?”
“Now you’re just teasing me,” she complained with a laugh. Then she breathed a moan when he kissed her shoulder. “Does my husband really not know, or is he merely pretending?”
“I’m just pretending,” he answered, and his red eyes were glinting mischievously in the mirror. “I was wondering when you were going to admit it.”
Even though his arms were sliding around her and pulling her toward him, Moonflower did not want to give in just yet. It was a game they played; one would make enticing moves while the other held off for as long as they could, or just long enough. “Admit what?”
G’raha chuckled. “I believe my wife is the one pretending now.”
“Admit what?” she repeated innocently, making her eyes go wide.
“You think I’m sexy, don’t you?”
“I always thought you were,” she corrected him, lest he think she hadn’t thought his crystal body attractive and only loved him now, or some such negative spiral that would lead to. “What am I admitting to?”
G’raha snorted and picked her up, making her swoon and feel like a complete ninny in the process. But it wasn’t her fault, he had arms! Muscly arms! Here she was, supposed to be the strongest and best warrior, and falling to pieces in her husband’s arms. She’d get used to it eventually. Surely?
“I think,” he said, bringing her out of her thoughts, “that someone likes my body. I can’t blame her, I feel far more invigorated now than I ever remember.”
“Ooh, should I be worried?” she teased, some of the blush receding. This was her element. “Have you been seeing other women?”
“Me? Other women? When perfection exists in the moon herself? Never.” His smile widened as he saw her face turn red once more.
When he set her down on their bed, she could have rolled onto her side or moved away from him to keep teasing him. But Moonflower only wished for him to come closer, giving up on their game, so she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and smiled lovingly. “Raha,” she said softly, this time keeping hold of his gaze, “I love you, no matter how you appear.” She fingered a lock of hair, playing with it as she felt him pull her hair away. “I loved you wholeheartedly when you had crystal skin and white hair. I loved you so much, I bore your daughters. I didn’t think I could possibly love you more than I did then.”
G’raha ran a thumb along the markings on her cheek. “Is there a ‘but’ I’m hearing?”
“But then I realized how much you were holding yourself back. It’s not that you weren’t yourself before, it’s that this new chance at life has lifted your spirits in ways I could not have foreseen.” Her hand moved to his ear, making him tilt his head in response. “And yes, I admit it, it’s extremely attractive and I find myself flustered all the time now.”
His ears perked up and pointed forwards for a moment. “I knew it.” Then he laughed and kissed her cheeks and then her lips. “Turnabout is fair play, after all, and it’s high time you know how I feel.” He kissed her again. “I adore you.”
Well, when he said it like that, Moonflower was completely hopeless.