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She hadn't had a night like this in so long. A night she could truly just forget herself, and everyone else, a night where even her games didn't exist and only the rush of lost passions hit her senses.
And as it came to an end, she didn't leave, she didn't move, instead she was held tight against him, her small frame fitting perfectly against his carapace as they slept.
Almost as though, this is how it was meant to be.
Morning came, and she was still in his arms, but instead of the peace she had felt the night before her mind was in turmoil. A raging bubbling sea of confusion was in her heart, to the point it hurt. All she could do was slink away, out of his arms, out of a place that felt so right, but also so not right. She had to leave, to get out, to walk away and forget that anything had ever happened that night.
Messily dressed, looking like anything but her usual persona of perfection she was more then ready to leave him without a word. To disappear and never be seen again, deal be damned. But as her hand touched the door, she stopped.
She looked back.
And that damn stupid Turian, he made her stay. Asleep and lost to the world, face half buried in a pillow, crest sticking up into the air, the stupid idiot somehow, in a way she didn't even know, made her stay.
An hour passed and all she did was sit in silence, tucked into the corner of the kitchen, hiding from the fact that she hadn't run away, she hadn't disappeared, she hadn't.... Finished her game. Instead she felt as though she was running headlong into a game she had never heard of, with no rules, no guidelines. Like she was playing chess with checker pieces.
"Esmea?" Fuck. Hearing that word should have sent her running out the door, giving him one last insult as she smiled in glee. Instead, her head hurt. And if she was honest, so did her chest.
She heard his talons clicking against the floor. Was the idiot actually looking for her? What was she saying? Of course he was. His games always expected the opposite of hers. Soon his crested head popped into the kitchen and she regretted everything in her that told her to stay. But it was too late, she was backed into a corner, figuratively and literally.
Her eyes closed as she went face to face with the fact she had no idea what to do, where to go from here. But no regrets, there was no regretting your past moves, that just takes all the fun out of future ones. But then again, the only moves she saw in front of her weren't fun, but it was too late now.
"Hey, what are you doing back here? For a second there I thought you left." The sweet thrum of his voice made her open her eyes, and made her chest ache even more. Her mind was a puddle of mush and even as she looked up into his face of concern she didn't know what to say, and neither did he.
One glance at her let him know she planned to leave. And he almost felt like a fool in wanting her to stay. But yet, there she was, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, without a hint of that signature smile on her face.
"What are we doing Garrus? What is this?" One of her hands waved towards him, and her eyes refused to meet his, looking everywhere but. Her heart was pounding in her chest, to the point Garrus thought he could almost hear it.
"This.... This isn't how it's supposed to go. This isn't how this is supposed to work." Both of her arms now shake in emphasis of her words, her voice growing in volume, almost as though she was trying to convince herself.
"Esmea, what in the world are you talking about?"
She paused in front of him, hooking her hands into the plates on his chest, anchoring herself in any way she could. "This..... this wasnt the plan."
His three fingers curled around her arm, running up to her hand, intertwining in the empty spaces. "To be fair, it was a bad plan, and we did take a very much unexpected detour."
The silence of the morning filled the space between them. It was warm and soft, and so very unknown. Eyes closed, it was quiet, oh so quiet, even her mind had darkness.