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Recently, Malark has become a bit of a morning person. He loved watching the sunrise, the oranges, pinks, and the blues of the sun and the sky meshing with the greens and browns of the trees. It was almost golden hour, and it was spring, and the rogue loved it. He would never dream of admitting it to any of his fellow party members, though. After all, his soul was supposed to be an empty void with nothing but pitch black. He couldn’t let them see this weakness of his.
Minutes before dawn, Malark had snuck his way out of his room in the inn they were staying at, and walked out of town and into the small forest nearby. He quickly made his way to a decent sized river, following it to the small clearing that it led to. Malark though, was not alone in that clearing. Up towards the middle of the clearing and on the banks of the river was a figure sprawled in the dirt face first. He could make out elf ears and tufts of matted, slightly curly chocolate hair under some autumn leaves. It was early spring.
Malark curiously made his way over to Paddy, wondering for a moment of how the elf hadn’t drowned. Surely, the river water must covered his face enough to drown him. But the arcane trickster was still breathing, albeit being a mess and unconscious still. His face and limbs were covered in mud, his hair a knotted mess of sticks, pine needles, and pollen. His mask was a few feet away, and overall it seemed as though Paddy had fallen asleep and fell into the river.
Malark smiled, and deciding that the sunrise could be spectated another time, began to prepare himself to pick up the other rogue. He carefully picked up the mask and gently began to carry Paddy, bridal style. He slowly wove his way through the trees and above some fallen logs, and eventually made his way back to the town, which was just now beginning to wake up.
Malark could hear the market already beginning to bustle, and chose to take the side streets and alleyways to reach the inn. The alleyways were always a comfortable silence, it being too late for anything suspicious to go on, and too early for anyone else. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional misstep, as Malark was meticulous about his footfalls being silent and smooth, as to not wake his companion.
He quietly made his way into the inn and up the stairs to his room, opening and closing the door softly behind him. He put Paddy onto his own bed, and after realizing that he hadn’t put Paddy under the covers and too afraid to move him in fear of waking him, he wrapped Paddy up into what Paddy would call a “blanket burrito.”
Just before Malark pulled his hand away, Paddy moved. Paddy snuggled his head into Malark’s hand, successfully capturing it and taking it for his own. By now the sun had risen and golden streaks of light danced on Paddy’s face, making his face a truly soft and precious sight. Malark also noticed that, in the river, Paddy’s makeup had washed away and that his face was now adorned with what had to be hundreds of freckles that reminded the assassin of a beautiful starry night.
Malark, not knowing what to do and to afraid to disturb the elf, stayed frozen until he heard the others in the rooms next to them start to stir. Malark assumed that the others would come and knock on their door soon anyways, finally took his hand away. He quietly slipped out of the room once more, intending to quietly go downstairs and fetch some towels from the innkeeper, who would surely be awake as breakfast should have been starting around then.
But the plan, as all things seemed to go whenever Malark was in a five-mile radius from anyone in High Hopes, went awry the second he stepped out of the door. It seemed as if someone had dropped a few papers in the hall, and Malark, while he had been up for a little over two hours at this point, had fallen half-asleep while watching Paddy and slipped on the loose papers. He fell backwards and into a dresser, where Paddy’s weapon had been.
Malark heard Paddy frantically waking up at the crash from the collision, the blissful state he had been in a minute before gone and he was looking around the room. At first he was suspicious, then his eyebrows knit together in confusion, and finally he saw Malark, and his eyebrows knitted even further as he posed a question:
“What were you doing?”
Malark paused for a moment, and as he was lifting Paddy’s sword from his chest, simply stated, “I saw you sleeping with the local fish, so I brought you back,”
“But then why am I in your bed?”
Malark didn’t have an answer to this. Paddy was staring at him.
“It was closer,” Malark smoothly said, not allowing the inner panic to be seen.
“To the door? But mine’s closer to the door, this is right next to the window?” Paddy gestured to Malark’s bed, where the elf was sitting. Paddy was clearly confused, his tone rising in pitch and the words slowing.
Malark, at this point, was clearly internally panicking, if you knew to look for it. He felt sweat on his neck, and he was at a loss for comprehensible words. Paddy was still staring. Why did he have to stare at him like that? Malark fidgeted with his bracelet.
Malark abruptly stood, and went for a perfectly normal answer for a rogue, “Window.”
Malark turned to the door immediately and left in shame. Instead of getting the towels like he originally planned, though, he went out of the inn and back into the blossoming forest. There, the morning dew was still fresh on the ground and the forest smelled of earth. The leaves on the trees were still mostly budding, and the grass was a bright, lively green with specks of red, yellow, and blue. There was also the occasional violet or daisy to be found as well.
So Malark roamed for thirty minutes or so, until he stumbled upon what was probably the same river he found Paddy in, but he was a little further into the forest this time around. He decided to sit on a nearby log and just listen to the constant swish of the flowing river. It was there, though, that he began to actually think about the morning’s events so far.
He first thought back to when he first discovered Paddy, and chuckled to himself. Then he recalled the blissful state of when Paddy was snuggled up in a blanket in the inn, and heat rose to his cheeks without Malark realizing. He remembered Paddy waking up and the short exchange of words that ensued, and cringed.
He wondered why his people skills suddenly seemed to vanish then, and why he had gotten so nervous and panicky. He’s been sprung into awkward situations before and didn’t usually make a fool out of himself, and this was Paddy after all! Paddy was a comrade, someone trustworthy who had seen Malark at his worst. So why did Malark feel nervous all of a sudden? Paddy was a friend - oh.
Paddy was more than just a friend. Or at least, Malark wanted him to be. Malark made this silent revelation, and suddenly, a lot of past exchanges made a lot more sense. Oh god, Malark was so obvious, he realized, Paddy probably already knows. And Paddy didn’t say anything yet, so the elf probably doesn’t feel the same way. Paddy’s probably dreading the day Malark would confess, and he was probably dreading politely turning Malark down.
So, Malark made up his mind right there. Unless Paddy showed any signs of affection that Malark could see, Paddy would never hear the words “I love you,” from Malark Dundragon. He would take it to his grave.