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They don't know if they’ll ever get used to the bitter cold of Whitestone, but as he walks through the dark streets he takes a small moment to embrace it.
Ashton’s head has been throbbing since they arrived, too full of current thoughts and past memories scratching at the surface of their mind. Their chest feels like it's been filled with lead since receiving the damned shard. Nothing is making sense and though the siphon is almost complete the group was told it'd probably still be ‘a day or two’ until fully ready.
The others have mostly made themselves busy with other projects to hold down their nerves, so he’s been alone for the most part and though he's usually fine with that it’s left them antsy and agitated. He lets out a sigh as he dips into the nearest tavern and looks around. Their eyes fall on her in the corner and his body hesitates a moment before walking over.
“Hey,” he says softly.
Fearne jumps and looks up at them, blinking her big doe eyes as she stumbles over her words, “oh hello uh hi-hi Ashton I was just, um, I- do we need to get back to the others,” she goes to get up but he’s quick and lays an instinctual hand on her shoulder.
“No! No we’re okay still no word. You don't have to get up, we're good everything’s…everything is good,” a beat passes, they slowly remove the hand on her shoulder and stuff it in their pocket, along with the ear cuff he just stole. Old habits. “Can I sit with you?”
She bites her lip and looks at the empty seat across from her. He feels heat in his stomach as his mind continues to throb. “Yes,” she says quietly. They move slowly as if to not spook her as they sit.
They haven't really talked about it since coming here and he can tell it's weighing on her mind just as much as it is on theirs. His hands burn and he feels himself pulled to her, like their gravity wells inside him want her close by always.
“Are you okay, Fearne,” he asks.
Her face shifts from surprise to something else to a reassuring smile, “I’m fine,” she answers. Ashton can tell she’s telling the truth. Mostly. A silence falls between them. She bites her lip again, “It’s just,” she continues, “This is…it’s scary and I-I find myself scared which is not something I’ve, it’s been a long time since I've felt that emotion. And I-I don’t want to hurt you- or or hurt anyone.”
As she talks she brings her black ichor hand up to the table and stares at it a long time. They focus on her face, and see the terror in her eyes. It's the first time he’s seen it, and he can absolutely say he doesn't care for it.
Ashton doesn't think as he brings a hand of his own up and rests it on her. She lets out a small gasp and looks at them, then back at their hands. They note the tiny shade of pink rise to her cheeks and his stomach both does a flip and ties itself into a knot. They look down at her black hand and rub a thumb along it. The texture is not really what he expected, like wet leather as the ichor moves with him. She sucks in a breath but doesn't pull away.
“You're not going to hurt anyone,” he says. It's the biggest empty promise, they both know, but he feels himself wanting to say it anyway. “I can't tell you what you should and shouldn't do,” they continue, “If…if you don't want this. You don't have to take it, I won't force it on you because fuck that bullshit, but there’s…” he trails off.
There’s something pulling me towards you he almost says and they have to swallow hard to bury the words down. He doesn't want to scare her away, doesn't want to lose this game of whatever they’re playing and have been playing for a long time.
She looks at him expectantly and raises an eyebrow when he doesn't finish the sentence. “There’s…?” she asks, amusement in her voice.
He clears his throat and shakes their head, “There’s still so much we don't fucking know about this thing and I-if I'm strong enough to take both I will so no one else has to get caught up in all this-this bullshit that is my fucked up life. I just. I think thank you again, for coming in after me,” he finishes, not knowing how to end his ramble.
Fearne laughs and they want to puke. “You're welcome,” she says. She closes her eyes a moment and something shifts in her entire demeanor and they can’t help but watch with the lightest feeling of anticipation. “I did it to protect you, and I…if I do this. It will be to protect you.”
There's another silent moment between them and he doesn't know what to say. To his recollection, no one's told him that before. It's usually been him doing the protecting, for better or worse. “Thank you,” he repeats.
The mood shifts as they look back down at her hand, “And I meant it. You’re not going to hurt anyone. That's not who you are,” he says.
She laughs and looks away from him, “there's a lot you don't know about me, Ashton,” she says, “And who knows what titan blood would do to me to…all this,” she explains further.
He knows she's right, but he also sees how she's a little calmer now.
“Well if you do,” they pause, “We could always have a good old fashioned titan grudge match.”
She smiles big at that and her eyes grow brighter, the allure of a battle that big enticing the both of them.
“Should that happen,” she says, “you're on, Greymoore.”
He’s about to respond when someone calls out into his mind “Ashton? You with Fearne? The siphon’s ready. Meet us here when you can…” Imogen’s voice says. He nods but doesn't answer her.
He stands up and walks around the table, offering her their hand. She takes it with her non ichor hand and he notes the softness.
“It's ready,” is all he says. The fear from earlier creeps back into her face, he gives her hand a squeeze, “Hey. Just know I'm here, and will still be. No matter your choice.”
She blinks at him as she stands. They catch her searching their face and he tries to not react. Not the time. Never the time.
“Let’s go,” she mutters.
They walk out the tavern and towards Imahara Joe’s. Fingers still lazily connected along the way.