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Dehya thought she only knew the heat. The scorching blaze from the dry desserts, the warmth which radiates from the mercenaries’ boisterous cheers, the boil of a tough battle. Dehya believed that was all life would show her. An endless cycle of burning until her fire was inevitably extinguished.
She was proven wrong. Very wrong. Slumbering across her was a woman who held the moon’s blessing. Woven by the soothing seas, brilliant like a sapphire, Candace emerged in her life like an otherworldly creature.
They were close enough for Dehya to fool herself into thinking that Candace could hear her beating heart deep into divine dreams. It wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibilities, Candace always seemed to know what was wrong. Distance barely mattered. Aaru Village’s pious guardian kept a watchful eye on her no matter how far. Dehya, who has experienced being hunted down by far more dubious rascals, could never discover how Candace unlocked the barriers to her secrets.
It makes not a lick of damn sense.
Dehya resists the urge to reach out a gauntleted arm as Candace sleeps peacefully, long lashes blanketing shut eyes; plush lips slightly parted to breathe out the softest yawns.
The day’s bout of screams evanesces completely from her head, and for once, Dehya feels at ease; a strain in her chest unfurling the longer she stares.
It couldn’t possibly be anymore than simple admiration, right?
–
“What has your mind occupied?” Dehya rises from her trance, head swiveling towards the inquiring voice. She plays smooth, an easy smirk curling the edges of her lips. It earns a polite smile from Candace in return, staving off the mounting bravado Dehya was hiding behind. “Do not feel pressured to tell me.”
Feline-like eyes drop, the muscles around them relaxing. Dehya reconciles her diverging realities by setting a chin against her palm, appraising Candace’s elegant form with interest.
“I’ve never had the chance to gaze at the stars like this,” she starts, trailing off to watch as her companion takes a swig at her goblet of aniseed. The way the supple skin of her throat bobs as she consumes it, letting the aftertaste run its course.
Candace takes notice, judging by the way her gaze flicks to hers. Doesn’t comment, though. Her grin widens then, a glint of teeth winking through as she snorts. “Well, I am glad you are gaining new experiences.”
“They look like you.” Dehya finally admits, and relishes the satisfaction seeing Candace’s brows raise, blood immediately rushing to her face. She makes a halfhearted attempt to conceal her defeat, pretending to wipe away a wine stain from her mouth.
Candace should be laid among the stars rather than confined to the sands. Dehya would gladly escort her there. Tendrils of hair gifted by the pearl-white moon, subtle marks and grooves coalescing into a solar system of their own around the axis of Candace’s visage, the inky hues of supernova glittering at the borders of her being; it left Dehya to wonder if Candace was a reincarnation of a benevolent deity. She fought formidable foes, monsters and trespassers, but even Dehya’s razor-sharp sight couldn’t spot any scarred tissue.
It shouldn’t be this easy to enrapture her. Being hardened by battle instills a tough lesson. To never let down one’s guard.
She continues her string of surrenders, offering her most vulnerable facets as though she had nothing else to lose. Dehya doesn’t ramble about the tales of her dangerous excursions, she doesn’t flaunt her assets, nor does she quip with her venom. Something about Candace made it feel safe to spill all her secrets and worries.
An anchor amid the sea of flames.
“Does that make you the sun?” Candace asks, her tone even and gentle.
It’s a question that throws her completely off-kilter. Dehya can’t win this one. Their little game of chase and catch removes Dehya of the balance she’s trained to have. If she were a younger girl, she’d be irked. Mainly because of how effortlessly Candace calls her bluffs. Any move she makes, the latter is guaranteed to have a graceful follow-up.
“I suppose it does.” The round ends like that, Dehya simultaneously plotting her next course of action and dwelling in her loss. “Not as fierce as me though.” She shrugs, a smidge of hubris powdering her claim.
“Not as captivating either, I’m sure.”
Dehya’s face reads as: Are you trying to kill me? Before sharply-defined cheeks pinken. A short huff fleets from her nostrils, more than enough to clue in a pleased Candace.
From across the table, a cup slides. Candace offers her a drink, perhaps to wash down the hot feeling permeating her body. Dehya glances at her, lips curving, before she laxes around the shoulders and gulps down the velvety wine. Licorice rushes through her tongue, a sweet and spicy substance to quench her mounting thirst. It’s good, good enough to cool down her blustering nerves.
“Dehya, may I confess something?” Conversation stirs again. Dehya thinks Candace’s voice causes an immediate snap to occur in the string of her synapses. Her chin tips sideward, her thumb moving to feel her carotid. It surprises her, the magnitude of the heartbeat pumping blood throughout her system.
Candace inhales from her nose, “I am quite attached to the friendship we have.”
“Me too.”
How couldn’t she be attached? All of Dehya’s thoughts are chased away by her. Their friendship isn’t obligatory or volatile. It’s a dimension that offers stability. A small inn to take shelter in when the storms steal the sky and threaten the lives of the helpless.
Never did Dehya feel she had to do something to earn. In here, all that was asked of her is to stay. That’s leaps more generous than the stipulations of a bounty. She’s had to abandon many things; an identity, relative comfort, comrades–but Candace completed her. The light which washes away a horrifying moon.
Her spine droops, an ache pulsing at the low of her back.
“And I am quite attached to you.”
This time, Dehya doesn’t retort.
“I want you to know that…” Candace catches herself. The pensive look in those vivid eyes suggests that she isn’t certain how matters will pan out. It pulls Dehya closer. She anticipates the next move. “My love for you does not stop at friendship.”
“I-” Dehya stammers, her brain short-circuiting at the honest confession. The slightest touches from Candace sparked a flame underneath her boots, consuming her even minutes after the contact. She knows what Candace is saying, knows it’s true. “What do you mean by that?”
She wants to hear it. Hear her.
Candace snorts, a soft sound born from fondness and knowing. “I love you. Do you understand?”
At the moment, yes. Dehya can understand. Rarely does she happen across someone who speaks to her with a steady gaze. The only individuals who carried that gut were her worst enemies in battle; men who swore to slash her flesh in half, women who threatened to batter her within an inch of her life. They were the ones who earned the right to glare.
Candace is a special case. She is formidable, strikes fear into the hearts of those who want to cross her. Dehya questions why she isn’t. Like calls to like.
One cold breeze is enough to raise gooseflesh up her arms. She stares at Candace, like she was the bank of a promising fire.
“I hear you, Candace.”
“Good.”