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“You know what I love about you?”
Her hand cupped his cheek, and his heart sped up. He glanced at her hand.
“Umm–” He started, lost for words.
“Everything.”
Then she pulled him into a tender kiss.
But when she kissed him, the entire world didn’t fade away like it usually did. A shred of insecurity lingered in his mind, her thumb right near the white strands he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious of.
He pulled away softly, and couldn’t stop himself from blurting out. “Even the part of me that did dark magic again?”
“I do. I love each part, every version.”
His expression softened, his eyes glassy.
“What’s wrong?” She grabbed his face in both her hands, tilting it towards her so she could get a closer look, her eyes full of concern.
“Nothing, you just don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No it’s fine,” He waved a hand, trying to dismiss the memory. “I'll tell you later once I make sense of everything that’s happened.”
“Got it,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead. “But I’m holding you to it, just so you know.”
“I know,” he answered, before turning to the river once more. Rayla followed suit, watching the boat slowly drift away. She was reminded of the time when he’d allowed her to let their boat drift away without any attempt to stop it because he knew how much she’d hated traveling by water. He’d even gone so far as to nudge it away after it floated back to them.
But as he looked down at the lazy moonlit water, Callum caught a brief glimpse of their reflection. The white strand shone in the dark brown of his hair.
Hating to ruin their quiet moment, Callum started hesitantly. “I should probably dye this, right?”
“What?” Rayla asked, startled.
“This strand of white hair.” He held the strand away from his face. “The one I got from doing dark magic, remember?”
“Why?” Rayla squinted in concern.
“Because it just looks weird, doesn’t it? Out of place?” He was trying to play it off as a shallow annoyance, but Rayla could tell there was another reason the streak bothered him so much.
“No, I don’t think it looks weird. Especially among elves– people’ve got all sorts of colours in their hair.”
“Fine, fine.” Callum let out a harsh exhale. “It just reminds me of Claudia. I know it’s just one streak, and she’s got almost a full head of white hair, but I don’t know. I don’t like being marked by dark magic. I don’t like how everyone can tell that I did it.”
“Well you didn’t really do it, did you? Kosmo said that if you ever did dark magic again, ‘the darkness would overwhelm you,’ but besides your hair, you’re just fine. You never completed the spell.” She placed her hand on his shoulder to reassure him.
Callum turned his head away, looking off into the distance. “I know I didn’t, but it still reminds me of that experience.”
Rayla wrapped her arms around him and gave him a soft squeeze. He squeezed back as he buried his head in her shoulder. They stood there for a moment like that, just holding each other.
When Callum pulled back, Rayla caught the glow of the moon on his white streak.
“You know what this reminds me of?” She says, twirling the lock around her finger.
“What?” He asks, genuinely confused.
“Me.”
“Oh.” Callum breathes as if noticing her own white hair for the first time.
“Look,” she says, comparing a strand of her hair against his. He can barely see it out of the corner of his eye, but they’re almost the exact same colour.
“We’re matching.” He says, a smile cracking through his gloomy demeanor.
“Exactly.” She says, feeling accomplished with how she managed to turn his mind around.
“Maybe it’s not so bad then?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe.” He acknowledges with a playful shrug. “I guess I might keep it, it’s cooler than matching outfits.”
“I’m already wearing your scarf, I think we’re coordinating outfits too.”
“Oh no,” he said in mock horror. “We’re really going to become cliche, aren’t we?”
“We already became cliche the day you suggested we were in a ‘secret forbidden romance situation’.” She quoted their first trip to the Storm Spire.
Callum cringed internally. “I may have read one too many romance books at fourteen.”
Rayla raised her eyebrows. “I can tell.”
“Oh, really?” He extended one leg behind him to give a slight bow, as he brought Rayla’s hand to his mouth to leave a kiss. She blushed at his antics. “My fair lady, would you be so kind as to join me at the riverbank so that we may enjoy each other’s company?”
“‘Enjoy each other’s company?’ You mean makeout.”
“Yes!” He said in exasperation. “But see how I sound a lot more polite and romantic? Romance book stuff.”
“Oh shut up, I don’t care about that stuff,” Rayla said, knowing full well she spent half a day in the frozen ship reading about the tragic romance of Esmerelda Skall.
She grabbed his hand as she jogged off the bridge and onto the soft ground of the riverbank.
For a moment they just sat lazily with their legs stretched out, watching the boat in the distance.
“Wait,” she said, as the set-up became familiar to her. “Let me guess, this was inspired by the Little Tidebound Elf?”
Callum tried to appear nonchalant. “Perhaps.”
She smirked. “It totally was!” She jabbed a finger at him.
“Only the general atmosphere!” He protested. “We’re not actually in the boat.”
“What about the animals? Are they singing some version of ‘Kiss the Girl’?”
“I’m not sure?” Callum tilted towards the music slowly growing fainter. They both listened for a couple of minutes, trying to pick out parts that sounded similar. When they could no longer hear it, they settled into a comfortable silence, Rayla resting her head on Callum’s shoulder.
“You know,” Callum started, glancing at her with a teasing smile. “I’ve been keeping track–you initiate kisses almost double the times I do.”
She turned to him, her face skeptical, though she knew that probably was true. “Have you really been keeping track?”
“Well, roughly? Is that weird?” He scratched the back of his neck.
“I don’t think so, but you’re a little obsessed don’t you think?” Rayla countered, trying to turn the fact on its head.
But Callum didn't fall for it. “Considering how much you kiss me, I think you’re the one obsessed.”
“Alright,” she relented. “But that just means you’ve got a lot of kisses to make up for.” She shifted closer but waited for him to make the first move.
Callum didn’t hesitate. He cupped her face and kissed her, slow and warm, but then pulled back only to return with a flurry of kisses to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead. Rayla giggled, half-heartedly trying to squirm away, though she made no real effort to stop him.
His lips trailed lower, down her jaw, until he reached the curve of her neck. Gently, he tucked her hair aside and pressed a kiss just below her ear. A surprised giggle escaped her, the sensation sending a shiver down her spine.
“Now that’s just tickling.” she laughed, breathless, as she pulled his face back to hers.
Callum’s hand made its way into her hair, pulling off the accessory, and letting her ponytail loose. As her hair spilled free, he brushed her bangs away from her face. He pulled back just enough to take her in.
“Your hair is so long,” he murmured. “It's beautiful.”
Rayla flushed at the unexpected compliment “Thanks, I wanted to grow it out.”
“Yeah,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I remember you telling me that.”
She looked at him, touched that he’d remembered. “And I remember you wanting a haircut too.”
“I wanted one so badly,” he groaned, flopping dramatically onto his back. “You have no idea.”
Rayla leaned over him. “Actually,’ She gave him an offended look. “I think I do, you spent a whole afternoon complaining, remember?”
“Oops.” He smiled sheepishly.
Her eyes softened, and she ruffled his hair affectionately.
“You know, I love your hair.”
“Really?” Now Callum blushed.
“Yeah, so much so that it was the first thing I noticed when I saw you again.” She tapped a finger to her lips, recalling how she snuck up behind him. “Actually no– it was probably your height.”
“Really? Is that why your first words to me after two years were ‘Hey, you look nice, Callum’?” He teased her.
Her ears burned at her mortifying introduction. “Can you blame me?” she muttered. “ I spent two years just thinking about you, wondering how you’d look, how much you’d change. I would look in every stranger’s face for a glimpse of brown hair, or green eyes, or a red scarf.”
She turned away as she admitted, “I lost a match once because I thought I saw you.” She looked into his eyes again as she asked, “And would you still be the same person I knew? After what I did?”
He grasped at his scarf around her neck as he blurted out, “I felt the exact same way.” He spoke urgently to reassure her she wasn’t alone in her thoughts. “Not only did I imagine you older, but I even imagined you dead sometimes. Lips blue from drowning, hair stained red from a fall.” His throat tightened. “I drove myself crazy.”
Rayla frowned as she felt guilt bubble up inside her. She always assumed he was safe because she was protecting him, but he couldn’t believe the same for her. And oftentimes, she really was close to death. “I’m sorry.” She told him again.
Callum exhaled softly, shaking his head. “I know.” He assured her, then pulled her into his arms, holding her tight against him. For a long time, they stayed like that, neither needing to say anything else. Just breathing, just existing together again.
“I’m so glad I came back.” She clutched his shirt tight. “You’re my home.”
“And you’re mine too.” He slipped his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers together.
~~~*******~~~
They returned to the banther lodge all sentimental and covered in grass. They were clutching each other tightly. Neither wanted to let go, holding onto the warmth of their moment for as long as they could. But eventually, reality set in, and with a reluctant squeeze of each other’s hands, they pulled apart.
Now, they were no strangers to sleeping together—in a completely literal sense—they shared beds all the time. However, if they were just going to nap on the floor of the banther lodge with Ezran and several guards around, it was probably best to put some distance between them, lest they wake up in some awkward tangle of limbs.
They set up their bedrolls a few feet apart to be safe. Rayla made sure to set hers right in front of the fireplace.
“I can’t believe you were just sleeping on the stone mantle like that.” He whispered in bewilderment.
“After two years on the run, I can sleep anywhere. Plus it’s warm, that’s the important part.” She shrugged. He didn’t seem to agree, but he was probably spoiled with a comfortable bed all these years, she thought. A mischievous glint sparked in her eyes.
“Here, feel my hands.” But instead of grabbing Callum’s hands in her own, she stuck her fingers down his shirt.
He cringed. “Seriously? That’s cold.”
“Told ya.” She grinned cheekily and pulled her hands out.
But Callum reached out to adjust the scarf around her neck. “You should keep my scarf on them, so you can stay warm.”
She raised a brow. “Is it really because it’ll keep me warm? Or do you just like seeing me borrow your clothes?”
“Both?” His blush reached his ears.
Rayla smiled smugly, before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, you goof.”
He smiled, watching as she padded over to her bedroll.
As she settled in, pulling the blanket snug around her, she glanced back once—then again. Each time, her eyes found his.
As she lay there, half between sleep and consciousness, she nuzzled into the soft fabric of his scarf. It still smelled like him, like warmth and familiarity. Inhaling deeply and feeling the ghost of his lips on her neck. She let the smell lull her to sleep.
A small smile stayed on her face, even as she drifted off.