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The cold breeze guided through each turn of their quaint shared house—an inch appeared as a mile in the dark. It hushed any remaining peace the married pair built. Dripping from the red ceiling; a worry Taph had thought he'd abandon.
Knock, knock, and another. Friction tugged at Taph's knuckles, burning a light scratch on the shaky form. Had it not been far past midnight, the red bloomed on his skin would've been mended in an instant. All Taph had to do was find his healer. His knocks grew persistent on every door he begged for answers from. Feathery at first, then accompanied by a sigh; until he found that the third door sealed an empty room, banging on the wood as the beats lodged themselves in his bones.
Throbs emitted from his fingertips, gathering most of Taph's energy on its ends, leaving only dread to pool in his head. There weren't any problems. He smiled and tuned to sleep a few hours ago. So why—why could he grasp on terror?
The darkness contorted Taph's image—had his hands been tangible or were they a trick in the void? Had his self came malleable as he was years ago, hiding within a fear surrounding him, or could he prove of his change, that he now be the one to sought out another?
Just where was Dusekkar?
The fourth door creaked open like it meant to welcome in a visitor.
Tick. Tick. Tucked away in the corner—
—the oven's light glowed bright.
At an instant, the shiver in his bones froze to an ice-like still; melting by the seconds, a false solid.
As he spotted Dusekkar hunched over some scriptures on a dinner table—the soft sofa bending to encompass him—the ice melted faster and faster until water bursted through it's inner core, tugging the longing man closer to his hopes. Taph's veins flooded him to jolt towards Dusekkar. He stayed still.
Would he be bothering Dusekkar this way, anyway? He seemed rather busy; tunnel-visioned into the pages, a melted candle to his right, his flame brighter than ever. The vision didn't seem to fit Taph in it.
The demolitionist considered for a moment about his higher education. Where he'd end up, had it been a different life he chose to blow off.
Would that life include Dusekkar?
Taph shushed his mind after that. He hoped so.
"Ah!" A booming voice erupted from the corner, dripping with an ever familiar honey-sweet tone around its edges, a smile heard and eventually shared between speaker and listener. Then, quieter, drawing a line between a giggle and a whisper, "My dear!" Dusekkar focused his gaze on the scriptures laid infront of him, pumpkin lines bending wide but his lips suppressed together as if he couldn't process the joy overcoming him.
When Dusekkar locked eyes with Taph, the fire framing his head crackled to hide his face away for a beat. "Forgive me for leaving our sleeping chambers; I've just recalled a chapter to be made clear."
The oven's warm glow twinkled on Dusekkar's glasses chain. If Taph could peer into it, he'd imagine himself to be part of those reflections too; for he wanted to cradle the warmth alongside Dusekkar, with his soul serene and hands shut.
"It's okay." Could Dusekkar even see him from the distance separating them? A hard, aching lump in his chest pulled out with relief, and Taph instinctually stepped back; the excess weight no longer there to support his adrenaline, his wings drooping alongside his spine.
Taph realized he was tired.
Taph questioned if the sofa could fit him too.
Seeking an answer, he stepped closer to the light. Not Dusekkar—no, that fire flickered on too warm, too close; Taph was almost afraid it'd burn him whole before Dusekkar could embrace him back.
Dusekkar hugging him... Even the thought snuggled into a cozy spot in Taph's mind.
He peered down to glance at what was baking. Cheesecake—well, the way they liked it, with brownies at the bottom and sweetened cheese on top. Quite the heavy recipe for such a late night. So Dusekkar had been planning this since earlier? Clueless, Taph put the question away for later.
Baking was Taph's ordeal. Dusekkar just somehow managed to pick it up along the way. Whether the adoption be one intentional or unintentional, sparks of joy lit up whenever the pair could work together on a small project; never touching skin-to-skin, but enveloped in eachother's presence. Taph missing this one was nothing short of a disappointment. But, hey, he wasn't one to complain about eating Dusekkar's pastries.
"Why, wouldn't you care to join me? As I'm feeling pleasant, it so happened to be that I'm free." Dusekkar stacked the papers together without much care, then pausing; lining them up, his eyebrows furrowed in diligence and concentration.
"Are you sure? You aren't busy?"
"Nonsense! There are much to do and much to say," Dusekkar hummed alongside the wave of his spinning pen, "However, your importance surpasses even the Sun's rays."
Taph fanned his face in a faux swooning manner; sitting down thigh-to-thigh with Dusekkar. "Stop trying to flatter me." The sofa seemed to be pushed farther and farther until it engulfed Taph's emotions whole.
As sleep overcame the restless demolitionist, the twilight had already welcomed him within their ranks.
"Ah..." Dusekkar sighed affectionately; the papers soft against his skin, but Taph's robes were even more so. He leaned closer to Taph in thought, weighing decisions; his fire flickering blue as an idea rushed through.
Dusekkar's lips met Taph's securely tied mask—a barrier already familiar like skin. "Goodnight, my brightest light."