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When Isedil first met G’raha Tia she hadn’t known what to think of him.
He was cocky, sure, a kind of personality that would normally have sent chills down her spine and repulsion to turn in her stomach if she couldn’t plainly see the insecurity written on his own face.
This was a man of knowledge, she could tell, one that had probably worked his whole life to earn his place, one who had to wear a visage to appease his peers, his teachers, his loved ones. She bets if she dug deeper, if she stayed longer, she would peel away his layers before he could even realize it was her claws dragging them away.
He endeared himself to her quick enough. She had never really spent a lot of time in the Eastern wilds of Mor Dhona, the business with the Empire still leaving a sour taste in her mouth as she thinks about Thancred, his possession, and their resulting breakup. Even now, when she goes into the city proper, she has the fear of being seen by the remnants of the Empire and so she stays in Saint Coinach’s Find. Even then she is uncomfortable, wary, paranoid.
But G’raha Tia makes it better. He is hasty with his jokes, his smiles, his songs. He seems to always sense the mood she is in and works to make it better as soon as he can. Before she knows it, she wakes up one morning missing his presence, counting down the moments until he comes bounding into her tent requesting her company.
And that’s when she knows she’s in trouble.
She had thought Thancred her one true love, her soulmate, although the tumultuous nature of their relationship left much to be desired, she had never even thought there could be someone else for her. Now, with this bright eyed, crimson haired Miqo’te staring at her through the early morning rays two days before the Labyrinth expedition, she thinks maybe she was wrong.
Isedil feels the familiar fluttering of wings in her stomach, the flapping so strong she thinks she may be sick as G’raha smiles at her softly, a hand reaching out in the silence to brush the hair from her face as they lay side by side, separated only by the fabrics of their sleeping bags. They have said nothing, not even their breathing disturbing this quiet, but she hears everything he wants to say, hopes with the small smile crinkling her eyes that he does too.
They hadn’t meant to fall asleep together, the late night had sprung on them as they had both poured over research about the Labyrinth and by the time they had realized the hour they had agreed it was fine for them to cuddle close on the cot, spare sleeping bags and blankets protecting their dignities.
Except now Isedil wishes there had been nothing between them. She wishes they had slept under only one blanket, that his hand had found its way to her hair, to her neck, that he had pulled her in and shown her the soft grins she was seeing now but against her lips instead.
“Good morning, G’raha Tia...” She whispers into the scant space between them, turning her head slightly to nuzzle into the palm still lingering there.
“’Tis good to be awake, Isedil.”
He doesn’t lift his hand away, the fingertips dancing gently along her cheek until his thumb traces the seam of her lips and she feels the heat well up inside of her as she watches his brows furrow, eyes darkening as they watch her tongue peek out to moisten her lips, brushing just slightly against his thumb.
“My dear friend...” He chokes out, conflict written clear on his face as his eyes dart between her lips and up to her own, asking, begging, for permission.
“G’raha...”
She doesn’t even feel him move, doesn’t even hear the telltale crinkling of the fabric between them, but suddenly she can feel his breath fan across her face, can hear the stuttered rhythm of it as he pushes himself to close that final distance. She wants to help, truly, but seeing him work so hard to give himself the confidence he needs is doing more for her ego than she imagined.
To feel so wanted... so desired ... is something new to her. She had always felt second in Thancred’s life. His plethora of experiences had always left her with her own insecurities but... laying here with G’raha, watching him as he tries to allow himself what he wants and it’s her...
Oh, nothing could be so delicious.
“G’raha, please...” She whines, spurring him on and he snaps out of his daze, eyes clearing and flashing to hers before a terrible smirk crosses his face.
“If the lady wishes.”
He teases her then, and Isedil can’t tell if she loves it or hates it, the desire to feel his lips upon hers more than she can bear as he brushes his across her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, down her jaw and to her chin, breathing against her softly.
“I have wanted to do this for so long.”
“Then why are you stalling...” She grumbles, staring at him nearly cross-eyed as he rubs their noses together while responding.
“I want to cherish you.”
She melts then, curses the tightness in her throat that immediately shuts her up, choosing instead to arch her body into his and he finally leans down to close the distance between them, and Gods, she can’t believe she has waited this long- she can’t believe she has spent months wondering What If when--
“Up and at ‘em, Isedil! We have a lot of work to do today, and—THAL’S BALLS!”
The two young Seekers explode apart, G’raha falling off the cot as the shock of Cid bursting into her tent sends them reeling.
“I apologize, my friend I did not mean to inter--”
“I-It’s fine, Cid, please just give us a moment to--”
“Yes, of course, darlin’! I will, erm, that is to say, I will... I will be outside.” The white-haired man escapes quickly, his hastened footsteps resounding in the gravel outside as she and G’raha look at each other wildly.
And promptly start laughing.
“So, you were saying?” Isedil finally gets out as she pushes back her sleeping bag and steps into the cool morning air.
“I meant it...” He grumbles, climbing to his feet and dusting off the invisible debris there. “I want to cherish you.”
“And I don’t suppose you could cherish me right this moment?”
He walks to her slowly, cupping her cheeks as he leans in and places chaste kisses to the markings under her eyes. Sensitive, even if it weren’t him pressing against them. “Mmm, not when we have people waiting our arrival.”
“Fair enough but... tonight, then?”
“Tonight indeed, my star.”
“I will be waiting with bated breath.”