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fig opens her arms. adaine draws herself up minutely, ears pinning back. she's... not entirely sure what fig is doing. she's too close to manage the full momentum of a tackle, even if she starts running now. she's quiet for too long to be expecting applause. she holds too still to be shrugging. fig just stands, arms out but not reaching, smile barely pressing the dip of a dimple on her cheek. fig waits, patiently, and adaine does not know what for.
they stare at each other in complete silence before adaine manages an "erm—" and fig laughs and says, "adaine, it's a hug."
"oh," says adaine, because in hindsight it makes sense, and count on her not to see it. her ears burn hot. "you, er. you want to hug me?"
fig smile spreads wider to pop out the dimple on the opposite cheek. "i mean, yeah. get in here, girl." adaine hesitates. she adds, "unnnless you're not the hugging type, because that's cool too," but adaine is shaking her head, heart pounding so hard she feels it buzzing beneath the skin of her wrist.
she'd stopped holding aelwyn's hand when she was five and aelwyn was eight and she had stopped trying to comfort her behind their parents' backs. she doesn't remember clutching mother's skirts or father's hand on her shoulder beyond seven, when they had that portrait painted before leaving for solace and she sat so, so still, afraid that if she moved father would stop touching her. her fist hadn't even made contact with aelwyn's face on the first day of school.
fig offers a hug and adaine, nearly lightheaded for want of it, hesitantly crosses the foot of distance between them, and places herself in the circle of fig's arms. they wrap around her waist and fig is warm , almost burning hot through her blazer, but careful and soft as she presses her cheek to adaine's lapel and angles her horns away from her neck. even the metal of her piercings is warm where it skims adaine's cheek.
fig is actually so very small.
the platforms boost her up to eye-level but her arms still wind closer around adaine than adaine's would around her, and that reminds adaine that she doesn't know what to do with her hands. she sets them lightly on fig's shoulders, the leather warm and worn against her palms, but fig squeezes her like prompting so adaine slides them around her and squeezes back.
she doesn't realize she's melted entirely into it until the gouged-in bone of fig's horn bumps dangerously close to her eye, and even then she simply squeezes them shut and clings as tightly as fig does. it's nice. it's so very nice. adaine feels overwhelmed with something that doesn't feel like dying, and if her breath comes short it doesn't hurt to gulp it back in, heart loud and bright and living. one of fig's hands skim up her back to cup the nape of her neck, gently pressing her curls flat, and warmth shoots down across her shoulders and skitters past the fingertips that dig into fig's jacket.
eventually, discomfort tugs at her at the open show of affection, and adaine gently pushes back. fig lets her, stepping backwards until only adaine's elbow is in her hand, and giving it a last, light squeeze before letting go. it takes a moment for fig to resolve from a gauzy blur of colours as adaine blinks to clear her eyes. she would, perhaps, be more mortified about it if fig wasn't still smiling at her with the same easy compassion she had extended over and over again.
as it stands, fig just lets her catch the tears before they run down her cheek and says, "good hug?"
adaine laughs a little wetly. "first hug i can remember in, erm. a while."
"oh." fig's brows draw down. "your parents are shit, adaine."
the next laugh comes easier. "yeah.” adaine sniffs. “sorry, i. i'm not used to it."
fig's face softens, and there go those dimples again, deep on either side of her smile, as she reaches out to gently hook her arm around adaine's. "we can fix that."
adaine bends her elbow to link their arms and tentatively bumps their shoulders. the warmth stays, slugging through her veins. "okay. i'd like that."