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Gareth stirs, twisting on the small couch that he has claimed as a bed in the Lighthouse’s meditation chamber. There are no windows, not that that would matter much from the little pocket of the Fade he and his team have been calling home these days. He’s lost track of the days; time moves differently here and he feels the magic of this strange place crawling over his skin every time he steps outside.
Sitting up, he lets out a grown and stretches his aching, protesting muscles. He pulls on a pair of linen pants and heads out to the kitchen. He’s awake now and, knowing Lucanis, there will be a warm pot of coffee brewing to help him shake off the remaining sleep still tugging at him.
Bellara is in the library as he descends the stairs, pouring over a couple of books laid out on the coffee table. She startles as he draws nearer, his footsteps apparently loud enough to break her concentration.
“Oh! Hello, Rook!” She moves to close the book closest to her but her hand slips, scattering a couple of loose pages she has scribbled notes on. “Shit.”
“Hey, Bellara!” Gareth says with a chuckle. He stoops over and grabs the papers from the floor, setting them back on the table for her.
“Just doing some reading, I think there might be something here on the ritual Anaris is planning.” She smiles as he sets down the pages, blushing slightly.
“Don’t let me stop you.” He yawns and heads out of the large wooden doors that lead to the rest of the ruins that make up their home.
The sun, or whatever acts as a sun in the Fade, hits his face as he steps outside and he blinks a few times as his eyes adjust to the light. He makes his way across the courtyard, bare feet padding against the cold stones, before pulling open the door to the kitchen. Immediately, the scent of fresh brewed coffee hits his nostrils and he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply.
“Good morning, Trouble.” A familiar voice calls out to him from across the room, and he feels the corners of his lips pull into a smile. He opens his eyes, and takes in the sight of Neve Gallus standing a few feet away from him with a smile and a cup of coffee in an outstretched hand. He takes the cup and watches as her dark eyes trail across his bare chest before turning up to meet his gaze.
“Neve Gallus.” Gareth says, his voice still a little groggy. “It’s morning then, is it? I can never tell here.”
Her eyes trail up to his hair and she raises an eyebrow and smirks.
“Looks like you slept well.”
His hand instinctively raises, running through the silver mess tangled on the top of his head. He smooths it the best he can before offering the detective a shrug and closing the distance between them. His free hand wraps around her waist and pulls her into him, his blue and green eyes looking down at her affectionately.
“We can’t all look as good as you in the morning.” He says with a smirk.
“Smooth talker.” She replies, resting her hands on his chest.
Gareth leans over and sets his mug on the kitchen table to free up his other hand which he uses to trace the delicate line of Neve’s jaw and hook a finger underneath her chin. With a gentle tug he pulls her closer and presses their lips together. The mage leans in, melting into the kiss and sliding one of her hands from his chest into his hair and tugging gently. Time seems to stop for a moment until the two pull apart, smiling and blushing slightly.
“Careful, I might start expecting that every morning.” Neve quips, her dark eyes sparkling. Gareth watches as her tongue softly traces along her bottom lip, where he had been moments before.
“Now there’s an interesting idea…” He says, his arms tightening around her waist. She chuckles, playfully trying to pull free of his grip.
“You really are trouble.” Her eyelids begin to fall as their faces drift closer. He closes the distance and their lips crash together again, the troubles facing them back in Thedas melting away for a few precious moments.