Work Text:
Standing outside of Neve’s office, Rook’s closed fist hovers over the door. She can just about make out Neve’s muffled voice soothing the nervous chatter of wisps through the wood. A deep sigh escapes from Rook - one that she doesn’t even know she’s holding. Resting her knuckles gently against the door, she finally knocks. There’s a pause. Just as she’s about to turn away, a clear and composed voice comes from within. “Come in!” Neve calls.
Rook, finding what little courage she has left, opens the door slowly to see Neve sitting at her desk. Red and dark purple bruises snake across her forearm and Rook winces at the sight of it. Neve shifts in her seat noticing how Rook’s eyes linger over her arm in pity. “You okay, Rook?” She asks, hoping to change the topic.
“I should be asking you that question.” Rook retorts as she crosses her arms tightly against her chest.
Neve’s eyes quickly shift away from Rook’s and onto her fidgeting hands. “I’ve had worse.” She deflects bluntly in turn.
The crow softens at her reaction, knowing it comes from a place of wanting to push people away. Her heart is guarded with ice but if Rook’s name is anything to go by, she’ll come crashing forward, melting those walls - just like she always does. Rook takes a warmer approach and gently replies “That doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurt now.” A deafening silence envelops the room. Two pairs of stubborn eyes finally meet again realising they are at a crossroads.
Slowly stepping closer towards the detective’s desk, she says “I brought something that’ll help...” She pulls out a purple balm from her pocket, smiling a bit to ease the tension.
“I’m a big girl Rook, I can heal myself.” Neve tries to shut her down once more but finds herself getting lost in the crow’s tender eyes.
“Please.” Rook’s gaze flickers to the scar on the detective’s forehead and she frowns before continuing, “After everything, it’s the least I can do.”
As much as the detective wants to look away from those puppy-dog eyes, she finds herself fixated on them instead. They’re so genuine and beautiful, yet also cloaked in mystery… But, for once, it is a case she never wants to solve. Because then it would mean she no longer has an excuse for staring into their depths. And before she can think twice, Neve finds herself nodding in resignation to Rook’s pleas. Those damned eyes.
A hint of a victory smile appears on the crow’s face before disappearing just as quickly as it came. She walks around, grabs a stool and places it on the right side of Neve’s chair. As she takes her seat, her voice drops to a soft whisper “If it gets too much, just let me know, okay?” Rook unscrews the balm’s lid, revealing a thick purple cream that releases a subtle royal elfroot scent. Leaning in, she takes a generous amount of cream with her fingers and begins spreading it very lightly across the bruises on Neve’s battered right arm.
With each swipe of the crow’s careful fingers, a chill seeps into Neve’s skin. She can’t help but release a sigh of relief. Rook’s eyes flash up to hers scanning for any sign of pain. Only then does Neve realise how close the two were. Brushing lightly against her right thigh was Rook’s knees, the connection feeling like a jump-start to her system. Her cheeks flush thinking about what it is like to be between them. Clearing her throat, she gives Rook a nod of approval to keep going. Rook returns to her duty, focused yet oblivious at the same time. “So where did you get this thing anyway?” The ice mage asks, seeking to distract herself from the way Rook glides across her skin leaving goose bumps in its wake.
Rook perks up at the question, a small grin on her face as she works “It’s a de Riva special recipe. Great for bruises, but sourcing the ingredients is a pain in the ass. It was worth every thorn though.” She pauses mid swipe and her brows furrow. “Plus, after the ritual, I didn’t want to be caught off guard if you- if one of you ever got hurt again.” Rook’s eyes widen with a sudden intensity, struggling to believe she let those words leave her mouth. Her deep stare refuses to move from Neve’s skin from fear of how she might react. She can’t risk Neve pushing her away, not when she only just got so close to her again.
The entire time, Neve had been reading her like a book. She could feel not only Rook’s immense guilt but also something else that she had been trying to ignore herself. But it had only been getting stronger and she could feel herself gravitating towards the crow. She eyes Rook’s trembling hand and lifts hers cautiously before letting it fall back into her lap. Instead, with a gentle whisper, she begins to say “Roo-”
“Right, uh, moving on. Let’s see how your forehead is healing.” Breaking from her trance, Rook abruptly stands from her stool and bends over to inspect Neve’s scar. The warm breath trickling out from the mage sets her cheeks aflame but she feigns indifference. “Surprisingly healed well”. She mutters to herself before dabbing a bit of extra balm on the scar. But she finds her fingers lingering over soft skin and her eyes absorbing each detail on Neve’s face. She has the faintest splatter of freckles over her nose– they suit her. As her eyes explore, a pair of plump and inviting lips entice her sweet gaze.
Neve curiously follows Rook’s gaze. Maybe a distraction is exactly what they need from all this mess. A smirk grows on her face strategizing how to do just that. A light laugh escapes from Neve before she says “Is that what this is about? Are you doubting my skills as a mage?” She leans in closer towards the crow, tilting her head so their noses don’t touch.
Now it was Rook’s turn to be flustered. She recoils and stands up straight, “No, no! I didn’t mean it like that!”
“Oh? Then what are you here for?” Neve says as she stands and closes the distance between them yet again, but on her terms. She stops Rook from moving any further by gently grabbing her wrist. “Because I can think of many reasons.” A sly grin appears on her face once more. “But my first guess would be to cause trouble” She presses herself up against Rook, looking at her with lidded eyes - her body moving faster than any doubtful thoughts for her plan.
Rook blinks violently, and her hands hover awkwardly in the air next to the detective’s waist. Is this really happening? What should she do?
Neve can sense her awkwardness and regret hits her all at once. What the hell was she thinking? Did she read the situation all wrong? She steps back and flicks her eyes to the window, scared to read Rook wrong all over again. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinkin-”
Rook steps forward placing her left hand on Neve’s waist to pull her back in and her right cupping her chin. She softly turns the detective’s chin to face her once more. She flashes a reassuring tender smile once they catch eye contact before speaking in a gentle tone. “I think I prefer your method - I was thinking too much.”
Neve can no longer hold herself back, she leans in and presses her lips against Rook’s passionately. Their lips move as if they had known each other for years and she can feel Rook smile beneath her. Moving her hand into Rook’s hair, she feels her heart swell. Why did she wait so long to do this?