Work Text:
Lena wakes up to bright sunlight, which is unusual. She wonders what happened to her alarm, as she normally wakes up before it even rings, especially these days. No meetings are scheduled for today, but there is still a lot of work to do.
She gathers the willpower to get up despite her body feeling overwhelmingly tired, but an unexpected weight on her waist freezes her in her tracks.
Shin's arm.
Right.
Her face heats up.
It's not that heavy — there is no force in his grasp as he's still asleep — so she could easily sneak away, perhaps even without waking him. But something in her just cannot fathom the idea of coldly untangling herself from that tender embrace. So she lies back down, even as responsibility screams loudly at the back of her mind.
She gingerly shifts to face Shin, who is lying on his side. His sleeping face looks more peaceful and childish than ever, somehow, and she can't suppress a smile.
She has to fight the urge to cuddle up to his bare chest and fall back to sleep surrounded by his familiar warmth and scent, which have completely permeated her bed. The thought makes her dizzy. TP, who normally sleeps next to her, is instead curled up against him, apparently still favoring the larger human who barely gives him attention, or maybe just seeking the better heat source. Still, she can't blame the cat. If anything, she wishes she could do the same and forget about the world. But she can't.
As she sighs, her attention shifts to the scar on his neck, usually covered by a scarf or half-hidden under the collar of his uniform, but now plainly visible. An eerie, jarring transition between his head and the rest of his body. It's such an intrinsic part of him, and she has never minded its appearance, but it does send a pang of pain to her heart which sours her mood.
She only recently learned of its origin, and is still conflicted about it. Though she knew Rei very briefly, he saved her life and left a strong impression on her, and she knows Shin loves him dearly still, which must only worsen the pain. All she could do last night was kiss that scar, trying to make it fade away. Ease his pain away. The scar is still there today, of course, so she would try again later. Again and again...
When she was younger and would blush at just the thought of a kiss, she had imagined intimacy as something magical, lovely, inherently happy, if somewhat intimidating.
She would've never expected her first taste of it to be in an attempt to escape from a deep sorrow, clinging with all her might to the only source of comfort and normalcy left in her life.
She had dreamed of a special occasion, a wedding night even, with many preparations and fancy undergarments chosen especially for it.
In the end, it had started with a simple, sweet kiss meant to wipe away her bitter tears, much like she had done for him before.
Her mother always said a lady from the great Milizé household should not cry. If she must do so, it should not be in front of others, as it was an unbecoming sight. Young Lena understood her mother's words, but as she lay on the floor with a scraped and bleeding knee, it was hard not to cry.
When she enrolled in the military academy, she understood that as a commanding officer she should stand firm and strong in front of her subordinates, inspiring respect. Even more so as a young woman, as she would be easily looked down upon. But as human lives slipped like water between her fingers, it was hard not to cry.
Throughout her life, war stripped her of many things. Her family, her homeland, precious allies and comrades, her very way of life. She'd spent countless days fighting back her tears on the battlefield, and countless nights letting them run free at night while hugging her knees, where nobody could see her weakness.
Sometimes it was easier, when she could keep her mind occupied with other things. Sometimes, it was much harder. Yet she couldn't allow herself to lose her determination. Back then, the memory of a faceless voice and a promise she was determined to keep helped her push forward in her darkest moments. But it was still hard.
Now, Shin was right by her side. She could feel his breath on her skin when he spoke close to her, his vibrant red eyes shone brightly when their gazes met, his scent was so pleasant and calming, his warmth at the slightest contact so real and precious. And when the pain was too much to bear and she couldn't fake being strong anymore, he would hold her close and comfort her as much as she wanted, and she could cry her heart out while feeling warm and cherished and that she wasn't alone anymore.
The coldness of the world that hurt and judged her all but vanished under his touch. It was an intoxicating feeling she could not get enough of, as she desperately sought to take her mind off of everything else and focus solely on him.
And so she ended up turning the kiss of a sobbing girlfriend into that of a yearning lover like it was nothing. It tasted a little of her tears, and a lot of him. A muffled sound came from his throat and he seemed to hesitate for a second, but ended up reciprocating, much to her relief.
If she didn't need to breathe, she would've never broken the kiss. Even as she gasped hard for air, she still wanted more. But before she could do anything, he took a step back to look at her.
"Lena?" He sounded only half as breathless as her when he called her name, eyes wide, no doubt bewildered at her sudden boldness.
Her face was burning, and her heart was beating so hard it reverberated almost painfully throughout her whole body. She was still catching her breath, and wasn't sure how to put her feelings into words, anyway. What could she say?
She impulsively grabbed his hand and tugged it closer, trying to place it over her wildly beating heart, but he noticed her intentions halfway and tensed his arm to stop her. Frustrated, she closed the distance by taking a step forward. His hand was so warm, even through her clothes. He froze and made a strangled sound, looking once again like the flustered boy she had stolen a first kiss from not too long ago. So precious. Her heart swelled.
"Wha—"
"Shin, please..." She trailed off weakly, but it was enough to cut off his question. What did she want to ask for, anyway? Losing her confidence, she avoided his gaze.
"Lena, is everything alright?" The worry in his voice made her feel guilty and happy at the same time.
"It still hurts." She answered honestly. Yes, sometimes it was easier. Sometimes, like right now, it was very hard. But the pain in her heart never really stopped. He knew this, and she knew it was the same for him, too. Yet she couldn't help feeling like this. She smiled bitterly, her eyes stinging with new tears as the old ones were still drying on her cheeks. His hand slid up to her shoulder and squeezed softly, reassuringly. So caring. She wanted more. She forced herself to look at him again despite her scorching cheeks, her heart pounding so loud it drowned out her own voice when she spoke next. "So, please, make me forget?"
Time seemed to stop and he looked conflicted. She probably looked like a mess. She felt like a mess, too. And surely he could feel her racing pulse under his palm. He eventually let out a shaky breath, looking like he had lost one battle and won another at the same time.
"Are you sure?" His voice had significantly softened. So sweet. And he looked dead serious, like he would do absolutely anything she asked.
That was an easy question. But fearing her voice may fail her, she instead nodded as firmly as she could.
The last shred of hesitancy left his face as his eyes locked with hers. Those eyes were red as blood, but she had never seen death in them. She saw life, she saw a blooming flower field, she saw a fancy dress and fireworks, she saw love and passion she could never get enough of. He then nodded back slowly, making her heart skip a beat.
The hand on her shoulder traveled further up, softly caressing her neck — she shivered — before resting on her cheek. Then he pulled her in for a kiss even fiercer than the last.
She felt somewhat guilty, like she had betrayed her younger self by tainting that experience, but did not regret her choices.
He was, however, exactly like she had dreamed. Sweet, caring, and perhaps a bit too cautious, despite his evident longing. Indeed, his body was much stronger than hers which, beyond simple biology, was a testament to the different nature of the battles they each endured.
He had been through hell and back, and yet somehow was still so kind and tender it made her heart want to leap out of her chest. Her own hands felt hopelessly clumsy in comparison. And while the force with which he sought her had once startled her, after getting used to it she truly felt safer in his arms than anywhere else. His embrace filled her with a sense of belonging she had not felt in a long, long time.
She had once worried about how it would eventually go. She read on the topic whenever time allowed between work documents, frantically switching tabs when she heard so much as faint footsteps in the distance. She had absolutely no experience — neither did he, for that matter — and being in unfamiliar situations where she lacked information would always make her restless. She didn't want to mess anything up.
However, she found that when he looked at her like she was the only sight worth looking at in the world, and when he touched her like the only thing that mattered was how he made her feel, all nervousness vanished and details became unimportant. She needed no guidance or textbook to know she just wanted to be closer to him, as close as possible, close enough that she could forget where she ended and he started. Close enough to make her feel complete instead of broken.
When she'd first met him — his voice — she'd thought they were so, so different. She was a sheltered, idealistic girl and he was a battle-hardened soldier, and she wondered whether they would ever be able to form a connection, no matter how much she wanted to. But below the surface and along the paths they've traveled they were, actually, pretty much the same.
They had both lost all semblance of roots, leaving them alone and lost in a world that took too much from them and gave too little back. They both had to learn to be strong in front of others, donning grim monikers as they stained their hands with the blood of their own comrades. But now, in each other's arms, they could drop any label and facade, and become simply two teenagers in love, two kids who had to grow up much too fast in a much too cruel world, seeking solace and comfort in one another's voices, eyes, bodies.
Yet even in those moments that should belong to them only, war loomed ever-present, almost mockingly. It was in their respective uniforms, even as they lay discarded on her bedroom floor. It was all over his body — in the rough texture of his calloused hands, in each of his battle-trained muscles, and in every scar, big or small, that littered his skin under her touch. It was in the pain of losses old, fresh and potential that burned in her mind and clawed at her heart. It was in the voices she knew rang relentlessly in his ears, no matter how much she raised her own.
So even then, the darkness did not quite disappear, but it was at least relegated for a moment to the corners of her mind, and she could only try her best and hope she was able to drown out his demons even half as much as he did hers.
She knows she's leaning way too hard into him for support. If he were to disappear, she would fall and break in shambles. But she wholeheartedly trusts their oath to stay by each other's side and see a brighter future together, for it's all she has right now.
"Good morning, Lena."
She's startled by Shin's voice — sleepy but oh so warm — and lets out an undignified squeal, still not used to the novel situation of waking up next to each other. He chuckles and smiles fondly at her, his eyes so full of affection that she wants to kiss him and hide under a rock at same time.
"G-good morning." She manages to mumble.
"How are you feeling?" The earnest concern in his voice makes her heart swell, but from the way his gaze scans her from head to toe she realizes he's not solely asking about her emotional state. Her cheeks burn at the implications.
"I'm good." Truthfully her body does feel a little sore, but she doesn't mind. She had been prepared for worse. "You?"
"Better than ever." His cheeky grin earns him a shove on the shoulder, but he just laughs heartily at her embarrassment. Still, she can't help a smile of her own. He uses his free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and his fingers linger on her cheek. Oh, how she wishes to just melt into his touch and forget everything else. Then she looks at the clock.
"... I really should get going."
"Yeah. Me too." He sounds as resigned as she feels, but they both know they can't stay like this forever. He reluctantly lifts his arm from her waist, setting her free. Back into the real world.
She finally gets up and starts getting dressed. Turning the switch once more, she stands again as a commander and not a lovestruck teenager. Yet, she dreams of a world where the two of them are unburdened by war and guilt and sorrow, and can fully lose themselves in one another without a care. A beautiful world where she does not need to leave her lover's embrace to go look through reports of death and injury, and rack her brain trying to figure out how to minimize the unavoidable losses of human lives in a raging war.
No, she does not merely dream of it. She will definitely make it a reality.