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It’s strange. When did the master of secrets become easy to read?
He’s not supposed to be. In fact, he’d probably be offended if they said it. But somewhere along the line, they’ve figured out how to read exhaustion in the tension of his smile, his lack of patience betrayed by the way he folds his hands.
Maybe it helps that they know he hasn’t been sleeping. They’ve been there every time he left, after all.
Whatever it is, they know he’s exhausted. And when they hurry to catch up with him in the gardens, for once, it’s not for sex. That’s not really what he needs, anyway.
“Callan, what a surprise.” He gives her his polite smile, and Cal trots over and touches his arm, smiling at the wisp.
“Thought you’d want a snack. You skipped lunch.”
“I’m a busy man.”
“Busy men need lunch too. C’mon, sit with me a while, please?”
He looks like he’s about to attempt another polite refusal, so Cal pulls out the big guns. “There’s carrot sticks, and cucumber, and even celery.” She doesn’t bother to repress her shudder at the concept of celery. “C’mon, please? It’ll just be for a little bit. For me?”
There’s a moment where he pauses and regards her, and then, finally, he gives in. Reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Well, with an invitation like that, how could I say no?”
“Exactly.” Cal gives him a cheeky grin and uses his grip on their fingers to tug him along. “C’mon, there’s a nice spot just round here. It’s quiet, we won’t get disturbed.”
She shows him to the clearing she had found the other day while exploring the gardens and sits down hastily before he can voice any objections about his fancy clothes being demeaned via contact with something as plebeian as grass.
They hold their arms out for him, and he sits with minimal fuss.
“Here’s your water sticks, Mr. Máistirúin.” Cal produces a little cloth bundle, untying it to reveal a bowl of snacks. Vegetable sticks, tomatoes, some almonds and walnuts, even some blueberries and raspberries in there. “See? Not a grain of sugar in sight. You should trust me.” Cal carefully does not think about the doughnuts they had also procured from the kitchen, tied up in a separate bundle.
“And am I to believe that you have none else squirrelled away on your person?”
…
Busted.
“I can neither confirm nor deny that, and anyway it’s irrelevant because I’m not feeding that to you. If it exists.”
“You’re not feeding anything to me.”
Cal grabs a baby tomato and holds it up to his lips. Keagan raises an eyebrow, but he takes it. Not without biting her fingers, though. Cheeky.
When he’s eaten his fill, Cal asks him if he has ever seen the stars.
“I have never found a reason sufficient to wish to visit a land of eternal cold and darkness.”
“You’re a real spoilsport y’know that? I thought your veggies would cheer you up!” Cal pokes his cheek, and he takes their hand, intending to just put it down, but they turn it and squeeze his first, before letting go and settling back on their palms. “I bet they’re really pretty. Y’know they make pictures, right?”
“In as much as any individual has simply taken the decision to arbitrarily connect them together and proclaim that it is a constellation, yes.”
“I dunno, I think it’s kinda nice. I always intended to go to Gorias y’know. Before the war broke out. I was gonna go with my girlfriend back in the day. We were gonna go when we turned 200, it was gonna be like a big birthday trip, we’d see all the palaces, we’d see the stars, the red leaves, the *snow.* It was gonna be amazing.”
“But the war stymied your plans before you came of age?”
“Well. That, and she cheated on me. I guess me and the stars were never meant to be.”
Keagan nods, content to let the silence lie. Cal tilts their head back, feeling warmed by the sun and the company, and watches the clouds float by. But they simply aren’t the type to sit in silence.
“Do you really think it’s that weird to draw pictures in the sky?”
Keagan raises an eyebrow when she glances at him.
“How so?”
“You said they were arbitrary. You never look for patterns where they aren’t there?” She looks up to the sky again. “Never search for pictures in the clouds?”
“I’m a busy man, Callan.”
“Aww c’mon, don’t give me that. You should at least try it you know! C’mon, indulge me, please Mr. Máistirúin? I’ll make it worth your while, later.”
That catches his attention, and he looks at her sideways, his gaze dripping down their profile. “In a manner of my choosing?”
“I’ll indulge you however you want,” they promise. “If you indulge me now.”
“And how precisely would you like to be indulged, Callan?”
“Well, a good start would be calling me Cal like I’ve told you a million times. And…” Cal pauses to think. “Lay down.” They pat their lap. “Watch the clouds with me.”
“I accept.” After all, the onus is hardly on him to point out when a bargain is weighted in his favour, especially when it’s been proposed by the other side.
He lays down, his head cushioned on their thighs. It’s comfortable, soft. He has duties to attend to, of course, but it’s not urgent on the scale of minutes.
And he has rather enjoyed being able to indulge with Callan in a way that is currently denied to him… elsewhere. He shall have to consider how precisely he wishes to repay this favour in more detail later on.
So, he permits them to touch his hair, their other hand resting on his shoulder as he watches the clouds with them, observing when they point out that this one resembles a fish with two tails, and that one a man with the head of a goat, and this one is the palace, but only the western facing gate. Eventually, he closes his eyes, continuing to listen to their melodious voice but not feeling the need to observe every cloud she points out.
Eventually, Callan must notice.
“Hey, are you even listening to me?” Their fingers pet the hair at his temple, and it’s even more gentle than it had been before. Their voice softens. “…Are you asleep?”
He doesn’t respond, but his expression is so peaceful. He’s a beautiful man, that golden brown skin, his gorgeous curls, the strong jaw. Cal can’t quite resist running their fingers down his jaw, stopping at his chin.
He looks so peaceful, even angelic, like this.
She feels honoured to see it.
Honoured, and something else. It’s warmth radiating from their chest, spreading to their extremities. A sense of tenderness, of longing. Almost like nostalgia, but for something they’ve not had before. At least, not from him.
Their breath catches in their throat, as they realise what the feeling is.
It’s love.
Love that drove her to try and think of a way to cheer him up. Love that led her to wheedle a bunch of veggies from the kitchen for him. Love that made her watch him close enough to realise how exhausted he was. And love that squeezes her heart when she realises he’s fallen asleep in her lap, listening to her blabber on about the clouds.
Cal smiles, a precious, secret smile just for him, and decides to test out the words.
“Keagan, I’m in love with you.”
Their smile turns into a beam. The words feel right. They do love him, they know it. And he’s asleep in their lap, looking like the cutest, most handsome, man they’ve ever seen.
“…Yeah. I love you.”
They smile down at him and give a happy sigh, their fingers playing with his hair. Just a bit.
Things are looking up.
They tilt their head back and lean against the tree bark, watching the clouds float by. They’ll stay there, enjoying the sun and the birdsong and the soft feeling in their chest until he wakes up. But Cal is in no rush to push him away.
They’d like to stay like this together for a long time.
Maybe sometime soon he’ll let them.