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Nerissa always heard giggles in the Cell. Calculated, measured. Wrong. So wrong. Something about it was mysterious. It gave you almost what you wanted— needed from her. Almost. A facade created to make you lose your way.
A mask that confuses, lures. A mask that takes more than it gives.
“Oh but it won’t hurt, surely.” Her voice was sweet. Sickeningly. Out of place. The guards stand no chance. Nerissa doesn’t stand a chance. In her silent cell, she hears, she listens. And the Archiver’s voice was cheerful, fake, and downright debatable.
And it was great.
It was a change Nerissa chased. A small drop that rippled her nine thousand years of monotony and pain.
And it held nothing.
On the rare moments Nerissa could see outside her cell, the Archiver’s eyes held everything instead. It was like the sun as Nerissa remembered it. It held universes, solar systems, stars. It held more than anything Nerissa had known, and it hid behind a measured smile, a cold giggle.
But Nerissa still thinks it was everything.
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Shiori was her name, Nerissa learns as the Archiver chuckles out her introduction. They were all riding on the last bits of adrenaline as they escaped, pushing some sort of automobile to the side of nowhere as it broke down for the nth time that night.
Nerissa sat beside the driver, beside Shiori. She had to get used to that still. She tries to ignore the eyes that studied her, tries to ignore the giggle that rings in the dead of night.
“Ri… Remove the magic really quick?” Before Nerissa could ask what she was talking about, Shiori coughs, a giggle, a chuckle like she was slightly embarrassed. Still poised. Guarded. “No, sorry, that was nonsensical.” Nerissa blinks.
“Magic?” As in… my demon magic? Nerissa reddens. She doesn’t know about that, could she? She watches as Shiori noticed her expression, watches as she faltered slightly.
“Not what I meant by that, by the way.” She mumbles, looking away. So she does know about that.
“I see.” And in that moment, Nerissa found herself emboldened by the new side to the Archiver she’s discovered. “What did you mean by it then?” Shiori faced forward, and only then did Nerissa see a blank stare, far enough to see, attentive enough to be real in the moment.
“The silence.”
Nerissa didn’t even realize she was using magic to do so. Instinctively, she defends them the one way she knew how. Instinctively, she hides. She forgot it was one of the thing she could do as a sound demon. Mindlessly, she reaches up, fingers just barely hovering over her broken horn. Only then did the dull ache make itself known, feeling magic flow out of old wounds that never healed.
“Ah.” She flinches as another hand hovers over hair. She relaxes almost immediately as Shiori puffs a breath, one Nerissa takes to be a sort of chuckle she can’t quite release.
“There there. It’s safe, you can stop.”
Nerissa decided to believe her every word.
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Her laugh was unique. At least, the one Shiori chooses to let out at certain times. Nerissa notices that for every pause in conversation, Shiori was sure to laugh a certain way, a giggle that trilled upwards, like she was catching up to the conversation.
Nerissa notices that for every prolonged silence between them, the archiver manages to make some sort of noise to fill the gap. For what, she doesn't know. For why, it bothers her a little.
For who… Nerissa was too scared to ask.
Sometimes, it comes with an unexpected comment.
Shiori laughs. “You're cute sometimes.” A comment Nerissa chooses to ignore. Sometimes? No, not that.. I'm cute?
Nerissa breathes, deep and slow as she takes her words in, her laughter, squeaky, almost like a mumble. Like she never meant for it to be heard.
And so Nerissa doesn't say anything. Couldn’t. Won't let herself to.
Still, like always, Shiori laughs to fill the space, and Nerissa keeps the conversation going, grabs her outstretched hand.
She refused to see what wasn't there.
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Squeaky wasn’t the right word it seems, Nerissa notices as she wordlessly smiles. Shiori’s laugh was raspy, rough around the edges when she lets it. Always targeted, but never hurtful. Never sharp, never biting.
Nerissa likes it like this, sighing out a breath as Shiori’s laugh continues on, as if what she said just then was the funniest thing in the world. It was contagious.
“You’re crazy.” It came out softer than intended. A familiar smile appears on Shiori’s face, one Nerissa still hasn’t figured out.
“Oh but you like it!” Shiori chuckles, almost as if she couldn’t stop it from spilling. “You must like it.” Shiori only shrugs. Their eyes met as they both tried to study the other, what it meant, what it held. What it all was.
Nerissa wasn’t one to look away, entrapped in those same golden eyes, less clouded with defenses so tall and rigid, more open, gentle. Softer. Nerissa refuses the assumption that it was for her. She claims it aloud, hers, hers, hers.
She was hers.
Nerissa hopes in silence.
A smile that carried more than Nerissa acknowledged. Instead, Nerissa laughs, hides. Taking respite in the way Shiori looked away almost immediately, unable to hold her stare for more than a few seconds. Maybe it was because the way Nerissa needed her showed far too much, grew far too heavy for the archiver to bear. Or maybe it was simply how Shiori was, and the raven wished it was so much harder to convince herself that these reasons weren’t so mutually exclusive.
Still, she laughs. No matter. Shiori was happy enough to laugh with her, and that was enough.
Nerissa didn’t think she’d ever lie like that.
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Nerissa felt anew. She blinks surprise away, shock still at the back of her eyes. They were at the precipice of something, and Shiori was the one that held her hand out to offer. The raven tries to take it in stride, confident in Shiori, less so in herself.
And yet here she was, staring as Shiori laughed with gentle mirth, embarrassed, full of emotion as she stood back down. Nerissa swore she could still feel the warmth of her lips against hers, how every second of that moment split into frames that lasted a millennium and more. Shiori’s laughter, still ever so raspy, so rough, barked out of intense bashfulness, rings in her ears. It was pleasant.
She breathes slowly.
She definitely shrieked just then, as she replayed the memory over and over. And Shiori was laughing at her reaction.
And just this once, she ever so kindly wants her to shut up. Nerissa peppers kisses at the corner of Shiori’s lips, there but not quite, her cheeks, her nose. Shiori’s laughter only rose in volume, in pitch as she tried to pull away from the barrage of love Nerissa was finally, oh finally, letting out.
Nerissa felt free. Vocal as she was, she was also touchy. Every time she pulled away out of respect, the want to hold her bottled up until Shiori herself released the cork and everything spilled like shaken champagne. She kisses her cheek with a sigh, a hiccup, laughing up a garbled chuckle that doesn’t sound right at the moment.
“My bird..” Shiori cooed as laughter died down to comfortable silence. Nerissa had never, in the time they knew each other, heard Shiori laugh so lovingly. “Oh my pretty bird.” Shiori whispers, a familiar rasp present in the way she restrains her voice to not be so loud.
Because who else needed to hear it other than Nerissa?
The raven wanted to open her eyes, finally look to see what has been there since the beginning. But they stay closed, tears streaming down her skin in rivulets. Spilling. Pouring.
Shiori laughs, to fill in the space, to reassure her, to give her an escape. To let her go. And Nerissa doesn’t let her. Finally lets herself be caught.
“You okay, my girl?” Nerissa laughs this time.
“Shiori, I swear if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to kill me here.” And it was worth it to hear her cackle, loud and boisterous. Lethal, as Nerissa realizes she prompted her own doom in the form of contagiously saccharine giggles.
Shiori’s laughter was sweet, a rare treat Nerissa will be savoring and basking in, whatever form it may take in. And that was more than enough. A truth this time.
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