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Ow.
Seriously, Ow. His shoulder stung like his arm had been ripped out of it’s socket and hastily put back in (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time,) his jaw ached as though more than a few teeth had been removed and his head could only be described as splitting. Great.
He remembered bits and pieces from the invasion. The fires, the screaming, the gaudy turquoise and orange suits of armor that had beat him to a pulp in his own office. Rhys scoffed to himself. How very like Katagawa to throw his army into the most garishly colored mechanized suits imaginable. Nothing like the sleek crimson of Atlas armor, no sir.
He groaned, rubbing his right eye to wake himself up. Where there used to be soft skin, meeting the glass and metal of his echo eye he found a flimsy eyepatch, held to his face by soft bandages. So that’s why his vision had felt off ever since he opened his eyes. Damn, they really got him good.
The room around him was so…sterile. Pure white walls and clear glass windows. The sheets he lay between were juuuuust off white enough to be considered eggshell, a refreshing contrast to the rest of the room. He wouldn’t say he preferred the bloody streets of his war-torn city on Promethea, but he wished he’d woken up somewhere a bit more…homey.
“You’re up,” A smooth female voice spoke from across the room. Rhys whipped his head around- Ouch, Mental note to do that slower next time- to see Lorelei. Her coat and armor had been switched out for something more casual, a black t-shirt and Atlas brand jeans as she stood against the door, nursing a steaming mug. Knowing her, it was coffee far blacker than he could handle. He took his as frothy and milky as possible, sweet enough to make Lorelei gag. Rise and Grind was always happy to oblige, as the CEO always left a sizable tip but she’d tease him about it mercilessly.
Huh.
Their favorite coffee shop had probably been burned to the ground by now, brutally destroyed by Katagawa and his troops. Figures.
“Hi..” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, hoping that’d help with the pounding in his head. It didn’t. “What..happened?’
“The usual.” Lorelei responded, taking a long sip of her coffee. “Maliwan dropped in, tore some shit up, the Vault Hunters scared ‘em away while you were out.” Rhys breathed a sigh of relief. Great, even breathing too hard sent a flash of pain through his chest.
“Good. That’s good.” Despite his worse for wear condition, he was glad to hear his city was out of harm’s way. For the most part. “Tell the Vault Hunters thanks. From me” he mumbled.
“Will do.” Lorelei said with a smile. “She’s nice.”
Rhys cocked an eyebrow. “Who’s nice?” He asked, worried his tired eyes and ears were playing tricks on him. Lorelei chuckled, pointing just past him. He whipped his head around- damn it, he really needed to stop doing that, his neck was already killing him enough as it was.
But it didn’t matter.
Though she was sitting in a chair she’d scooted up near his bed, her head lay on the thin material of the cot, half hogging one of his pillows. Typical.
“Fiona…” He breathed to himself, the ghost of a smile gracing his dry lips for the first time in days.
“She’s been here the whole time. Came as soon as she heard.” Lorelei remarked. “Hasn’t left your side for..what, 4 days? Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
Rhys grinned. He could just see Fiona letting slip that she might just care a teeny tiny bit about Rhys, and backpedaling, making Lorelei pinky swear not to tell him. So much for that.
She’d re-dyed the streak in her hair, no longer a soft pink but a vibrant red. Atlas colors. Had she done that on purpose? Who was he kidding, she’d never. Not consciously, anyway. He studied her sleeping face. Despite the thin line of drool falling from her slightly agape mouth, she looked peaceful, calm. He’d never quite seen her like this, she was always… on guard when she was awake. Not now, though. Rhys hoped she was having a good dream.
He reached out to touch the slightly tangled mess of brown and red hair on his bed. He’d always wondered if the streak was rough and dry, like his when he’d made the dreadful decision to bleach his hair sophomore year (he shuddered at the thought,) or if it was soft and healthy like the rest.
Yeah, it was soft. Typical of her to take time for hair care in the midst of all the vault hunting, Calypso twin taking down-ing crap she was involved in.
He couldn’t feel her hair for long though, because after a few moments her eyes twitched, and opened slowly. He drew his hand back instinctively, half expecting her to roughly swat his hand away, yell at him for being weird while she was sleeping. But she did nothing of the sort.
Instead she just looked up at him, deep bags under her eyes and smiled.
“You’re awake.”
He smiled back down at her. “Good morning.”
An alarmed look creeped it’s way onto her face. “Wait, it’s not-” she looked around, to the window above her and Rhys, where the sun shone lightly through the clouds. . “Morning…”
She chuckled in spite of herself. Rhys grinned too.
“I didn’t realize I fell asleep.” She admitted.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Lorelei said, shooting Rhys a wink before she left the room. What was that supposed to mean?
“So..” Fiona said, straightening up and running a hand through her hair, barely taming it. “You look like shit.” Rhys didn’t know what else he’d expected. He missed this.
“Occupational hazard.” He replied, sitting up straighter in the cot. “Tends to happen when a corporation waaaaaaay bigger than yours, complete with an executive something-or-other who’s obsessed with you invades the city you built with your own two hands because you didn’t want to merge with them. It’s great.”
“Wait,” Fiona said, a giggle at the back of her throat. “He’s obsessed with you? Why?”
“Wh-” Rhys pouted, indignantly. “Be-Because I’m a cool important CEO with the hottest up-and-coming company the 6 galaxies have seen in, like, centuries.” He’d be puffing out his chest more if it wasn’t excruciatingly painful. Fiona snorted. “He also thinks I have cool socks.”
“Sure.” She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “How is said company, by the way? I- uhh.. Haven’t been able to keep up as much as I’d like to.”
“As good as we can be..” He answered, not quite meeting her eyes. “It’s hard, we’ve had to put gun production on hold for a bit, but it’s fine. We’ve got bigger things to worry about, for now anyway. Lorelei’s been a huge help.”
“Oh! Yeah, she’s..She’s really nice.” Fiona said, shuffling a little in her seat. “She almost didn’t let me in.” Rhys laughed out loud.
“Seriously?’
“Yeah.” Fiona said, laughing a bit herself. “I showed up and she blocked the door, and she was all like ‘Mr. Strongfork has been seriously injured, he’s not taking visitors today.’ It was hilarious. I came with Sasha and Vaughn too, but Sasha had a flight to Aquator yesterday and Vaughn had..bandit king stuff. His words, not mine.” Rhys smiled sadly. He’d have liked to see Sasha and his best bro-bro-bro, but Fiona was enough. No, Fiona was perfect.
“How’d you even get in? Lorelei’s tough about that stuff.” He asked. He swore he saw her cheeks grow a tad pinker as she took off one of her gloves- essential for vault hunting- to reveal the scar on her palm from where her and Rhys had touched the Eridian chest, all those years ago.
“I showed her this.”
Rhys turned over his own tattoo’d arm, to look at his own scar. Though both of theirs had calmed down considerably since their time stuck in the Vault of the Traveler, he could almost see when they’d glowed angry and purple, stinging like acid and fire and electricity all at once.
“Gotcha…”
“It was kinda funny,” Fiona said turning her own hand over to examine her own scar. “She knew exactly what it was. Once I showed her, she was like ‘Ohhh, you must be Fiona! Rhys talks about you all the time.’ It was adorable.”
Ohhh boy. If he’d thought her cheeks had gotten a tad rosier a minute ago he had another thing coming. His face was glowing a tomato red Fiona didn’t even know was possible.
God damn it Lorelei.
“Oh, she- she did, huh?” Rhys mumbled. Great, the cat was out of the bag. He hadn’t prepared for months on end of merciless teasing. Not from her, anyway.
Fiona snorted. “Relax, you look like you’re gonna explode. I like this jacket, I don’t want your brains all over it.”
Rhys took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. He really didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Fiona. More than he already had, anyway.
“Besides…” Fiona started, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “I- um.. thought it was kind of cute.”
“Oh- That’s.. That’s good.”
They sat there quietly for a few moments, Fiona staring down at the newly waxed linoleum floor, Rhys out the window. He couldn’t quite tell if they’d crossed the line between comfortable silence and awkward. He cleared his throat.
“So, are you-”
“I’m sorry.”
Rhys’s gaze quickly shifted from the window to the woman beside him. She wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead transfixed on her mud-caked boots.
“What..?”
“I should have come earlier” Fiona said.
“Fi, what are you-”
“I knew. I knew about the Maliwan war and I didn’t do anything.” Oh god, Her voice was breaking. “I just.. ignored it and went on with this- this vault hunting bullshit.”
“Hey, you didn’t ignore me.” He said, trying to diffuse the situation. He’d never been good at that. “You sent me those echoes, remember?”
“That doesn’t count.”
“O-Okay, but it’s not vault hunting bullshit,” Rhys continued. “The crimson raiders need you, right?” Fiona barked out a cold laugh. Good going, Rhys.
“Not really.” She mumbled, trying to conceal that she was wiping her eyes. “I haven’t found shit. They have new vault hunters anyway, I’m dead weight.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“Fiona-”
“They have a siren, Rhys. Three sirens! They don’t need me.”
“Fiona, look at me.”
She turned her head, her usually bright green eyes were puffy, and clouded with red. “What?”
“I’m-” Rhys cleared his throat. “I’m gonna try something. Please don’t break any more of my bones”
“Rhys, what are you- Mmph” Fiona started, but was interrupted by a pair of lips on her own. Rhys’ to be exact. It was soft and gentle, yet demanding. His lips tasted like the Atlas brand strawberry chapstick he applied way too often. Fiona felt herself closing her eyes, leaning into it.
Wait, no.
Shit.
Fiona pulled back, receiving a disappointed whimper from Rhys. She pulled her own hand up, feeling where his mouth had just been. Ohgodohshitohchristtheykissedtheykissedtheykissedthey-
“Shit, Fiona I’m- I didn’t mean-” He floundered. He always did have a knack for ruining everything.
“Rhys, how much pain are you in right now?”
“….What?”
Her face was beet red. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, but he had a feeling this time it was due to embarrassment rather than sadness.
“Answer the question.”
“Uh…” Rhys said, assessing the sheer amount of pain he felt. Yup, it felt like all of his organs had switched places with his bones. “A lot.”
Fiona chuckled to herself. Eloquent as always. “So.. You aren’t making decisions purely fueled by whatever pain medicine they’ve got you on?”
“Judging by the fact that my body feels like it’s slowly shutting down, I’m gonna say no.” Rhys said. Fiona laughed, actually laughed at that one. “But even if I was high off my ass, it wouldn’t change the fact that I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.”
“Then…” She said, slow but determined. “I’m gonna try something too.” Rhys gulped as she put her hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes, and suddenly her lips were on his.
Ho.
Lee.
Shit.
None of the urgency from the last kiss remained, only passion and tenderness as her other hand sank into his hair. Without the gel that usually kept it straight and brittle, it was soft, fun to play with. She could feel him smiling against her lips as his flesh hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her ever so much closer.
When they finally broke the kiss, they were both breathless. Turns out finally kissing the person you’ve been hopelessly in love with for, what, 7 years? Kind of makes you forget to breathe.
“I- um..” Rhys murmured, still a bit dazed. “I hope the mustache wasn’t too itchy.” Fiona cocked an eyebrow.
“What?”
“Wh- The mustache?” He said “I thought it might be itchy, y’know..?” Fiona’s eyebrows rose higher by the second.
“Rhys, you don’t have a mustache.”
“Wh- no, that’s-” He said, bringing his hand to his upper lip to feel it. Sure enough, it was clean shaven. “What the- No! I spent, like, months growing that. They must have shaved it to do the jaw surgery, god damn it-”
Fiona burst out laughing. Had her laugh always been that cute? “Oh my god, I think Vaughn showed me a picture of that when he was here. It was hilarious.”
“It wasn’t hilarious, it was awesome.” Rhys grumbled, still feeling his upper lip, in memory of his sweet, sweet, siege ‘stache.
“Sure it was,” Fiona teased, pulling his head towards hers. “I like you clean shaven, anyway.”