Work Text:
“You don’t have to walk me back to my room, you know,” Rook said, her voice rich and amused. “It isn’t far.”
”You didn’t have to say yes,” Lucanis countered, smiling as they entered the Lighthouse together. He felt as if he couldn’t stop smiling. She’d been delighted with the churros he’d made her, and even better, she’d understood what he’d really meant by them. A few crumbs of cinnamon still dusted the corners of her lips. He was seized by a sudden desire to wipe them away.
Rook makes you feel safe, Spite observed. The demon had been easier to understand since the strange trip to the shadow-Ossuary. Rook’s doing, most likely. Makes you lighter. Touch her? Keep her!
Lucanis swallowed. There was little he’d like to do more. But ah, he was being greedy… she had already told him tonight that what he did was enough. That he was enough. The memory warmed him, bolstered him in the quiet chill of the Lighthouse. It was always so still here when the others were asleep. He wondered if Rook could hear his heartbeat.
”Lucanis?” Rook asked, pausing at the foot of the stairs. She leaned against the banister, giving him a curious look, eyes narrowed in concentration. “Is Spite there?”
“You noticed,” he said, stopping one step up. “Forgive me. He chatters about you.”
”Only good things, I hope,” she chuckled.
Rook likes us! Tell her. Show her!
I did! With the churros! Lucanis thought irritably. And she likes me.
I didn’t see. Chasing wisps. Tell her again!
“Still there?” Rook asked, her expression of amusement fading to faint concern. Lucanis shook his head, coming back to himself as if coming up for air.
“He is… insistent.” And perhaps not wrong. He took a small step closer to her, narrowing the distance between them.
”About what?”
“That I be honest,” Lucanis said, and before he could back away or think better of it, he leaned forward, closed his eyes, and kissed her.
He should have closed his eyes last, he realized belatedly. His nose bumped into hers, and his attempt left his lips askew, catching just the edge of her mouth. He tasted crumbs of sweet cinnamon sugar.
Then her hand was on his cheek, and she adjusted their position until her lips moved against his, warm and soft, a hint of her open mouth and tongue leaving his legs unsteady and his chest blooming with fire. She pulled away, her eyes bright, her nose and cheeks slightly pink. Was she blushing?
He took a deep, shaky breath. ”I am sorry,” he said.
Rook raised her eyebrows so high they nearly vanished. “For what? Lucanis, that was —“ She grinned, giggling. “Very enjoyable.”
”For not doing it earlier,” Lucanis said, exhaling. “I wanted to. But I hadn’t — I did not know if —“ He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say about that day in the pantry. He’d known what he wanted then, but couldn’t say it, couldn’t go through with it. But things were different now.
She did make him feel safe.
He smiled back at her. “Never mind. I hope you do not mind my clumsiness. I am new at this.”
She resumed climbing the stairs, and he walked along beside her. “Well, don’t you worry about that,” she said, leaning over and nudging his shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs. “You’ve mastered assassination and cooking. I have a feeling you can master anything you put your mind to. And if you need me to help you practice, um — I’d be happy to help.” She was definitely blushing.
He felt his own cheeks warm in response. “I am looking forward to, ah, training with you.”
“Stop it,” she chuckled. “You’re terrible.”
”I’ve been told this, yes.”
They stopped in front of the hallway to Rook’s room, and she gave him a fond look. “I suppose I’d better get some rest. I do feel sleepy after that feast you made us.” She reached out, squeezing his arm gently, her touch electric in the best way. “See you tomorrow, Lucanis. Get some rest, will you? Both of you. For me?”
Lucanis laughed. A direct request from Rook? That would be enough for Spite. He could sense Spite’s glee in the back of his mind. Or was it his own? It was hard to tell right now.
”I will do my best,” he promised. He tipped his head to her in a small nod and headed back down the stairs, his hand jittery on the banister, the taste of cinnamon on his tongue.
He would certainly try to get some rest. No more coffee tonight, which would help. But this new joy flaring within him, bright and fierce and soaring, might make sleep elusive for a little while longer.
He didn’t mind a bit.