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Late at night, sitting at the porch while looking over the Wilderness. A past time Argus had grown to love despite her near blindness at this time of the day. The scene was blurry, but the fireflies and the soft lanterns from the critter; she could imagine they were stars just near her grasp. Not that the sky wasn't filled with stars, it was breathtaking with the aurora boreal dancing near the Northern plains or the galaxies at the west. Though, it all feels distant to her. A blob of shapes and colors compared to her fake stars just a few meters away.
That wasn't the only reason why she was still awake…
“How many miles must I go, till I see you again?
A hundred, three, five and more...
No matter the distance,
I'll make my way back to you.”
Anjo Nala’s singing filled the silence—another performance every night since she came here—followed by Voyager's violin to accompany the piece and the soft strings of Barcarola. It was a symphony for the ears, for those who were still up, for those who wished to bask in their sweet lullaby.
Argus clicked her tongue, and downed a shot of vodka. She wasn't planning to go heavy tonight, but only to feel the burn down her throat and make herself warm like that damned voice.
“I’m definitely loosin’ it,” she muttered softly and sighed exasperatedly on how this stupid beating heart of hers sped up every time she looked at her.
They met on the wrong foot, she pointed a barrel right at her face and she still kept doing it even after Vertin explained everything that had happened. But this little succubus kept trying to make amends, to talk civilly and the way Anjo took care of her made her skin crawl. She doesn’t understand why she does it.
“Oh Argus, you forgot the pills!”
“I ain't takin’ shit from them I already told them—my eyes are fine.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” Anjo grumbled, tail flicking just right behind her.
“I say the same to you Princess with how you actin’ up on me right now.” she huffed, scratching the back of her head with her gun, the usual.
Anjo for a brief moment looked surprised, dejected and then pouted, “You’ll go blind at this rate.”
“I’ll go blind either way.”
“You don't have to punish yourself like this if you're still thinking of that day—”
“Don’t. ever. mention it.”
And during those days she would blow up, Anjo would keep quiet but prepared coffee every morning just for her. Skeptical she may be, but she didn't want the succubus to be so down; it was written all over her face. Apologies were exchanged, most of the time she does it and it would took so much time and two shots of vodka to spill her heart out. Maybe that was the day things were spiraling out of control for her. More and more days Argus noticed Anjo even if she wasn't interacting with her. The times she'd slowly relent and bend her knees to the whims of the succubus or the weird moments she would find a feather, chicken or fish right at her doorstep—it reminded her of a cat's behavior.
What does Anjo get in return? Attention, and a disgusting amount of it. From the mornings, to the afternoons and evenings. Was it to right the wrongs of the past? A begrudging yes for the merc. She knew her actions were too much at times, always flying off the handle if something ever pissed her off with just the right flick of levers (Tuesday was so damn good at it) and the times… it felt nice, and actually good to have someone to talk to.
Most of the suitcase residents were children and Argus already swore to herself to never dump all her shitty problems on them—Vertin had enough dealing with their chaos—then the other adults in the suitcase always had something going on with them or were always away to do their own things with their own people. She already tried talking to Tuesday, but the fear she had towards the maid was difficult to diffuse. Pavia was out of the question; she doesn't like his egoistical, prideful, smart ass of a mouth. Even if both of them were mercenaries, there was a line he would happily cross and she still held on to her morals. Tennant? Nope. What about 6? She wasn't a philosophical type.
So all that was left was spending her free days and talking with their local succubus. Always around in the suitcase, helping and being cheerful like the sun to anyone that welcomed her with open arms. Argus liked the warmth, the way Anjo brightened any space with her mere presence and her singing… It was one of the ways Argus would fall asleep without worrying of nightmares. Was it the work of succubus’ charms on why she felt this way? No, definitely not. Vertin already forbade Anjo from using her skill unless it was a mission, and she didn't want to use it either without any rhyme or reason. So really, it was something else she doesn't want to name…
Love.
“Now you’ve done it,” Argus muttered to herself, poured another shot of vodka… She took a sip from the bottle until her throat burned.
How did she let herself slip like this? Out of everyone it was her. Grumbling at the thoughts, the memories that kept making itself known and the warmth in her gut—definitely it was the vodka—were becoming irritating to handle. She wasn't meant for this, nor built for that. Romance wasn't in her blood, that was more of Tennant’s thing.
“Argus?” a soft, melodic voice pulled her out of her reverie.
The Merc hacked a cough. “A-anjo? Damn it, stop scarin’ me like that.”
She put her hands up. A nervous smile settled on the succubus’ face. “My apologies. I noticed you've been sitting here all alone for the whole night. Is it another nightmare?”
Cautiously approaching her like a wild animal as Anjo settled beside Argus. A manageable space in-between of them. Anjo clasped her hands together, while her tail curled on her lap. Prim and proper for a lady and not the devil herself. Banish those thoughts, Argus.
“Nah… Just been thinkin’ of things I guess,” The Merc replied, avoiding Anjo’s curious gaze.
“Like what kind of things? You know I'm always here to listen… Though I hope you didn't drink too much—” and pointed at the vodka bottle. “–of that… That wouldn't be good for you on whatever you may be thinking.”
“What are you, my mother?”
“Well, don't come crawling and complaining about your hangover tomorrow morning.” Anjo rolled her eyes. “Seriously Argus, I can tell something is bothering you. Have you forgotten?”
Anjo sat straight up and pointed at herself with a slight smug. Argus scoffed.
“You and your damn succubus skills.“ she set the bottle away, crossed her arms, and leaned against the beam pillar just to get some space away from her. Goddamn everything, can’t she have her drink in peace?
Silence, an awkward silence as Anjo slowly nibbled her claws and internally chastised herself from her bad habit. It was, in its own way, adorable in Argus’ eyes with the way Anjo moves. A Beyond who could look like she couldn't hurt a fly, cry on the simplest things like a TV Drama and then next she'd be a huge, terrifying beast that could sweep any danger with a simple attack—a terrifying beauty.
Argus tipped her hat, still feeling the burn at the back of her throat and her hand fidgeting to get a hold of her gun. Anything to keep herself busy and away from her thoughts. Being vulnerable wasn't her style and yet this damn succubus—Anjo placed her tail right over Argus’ lap. An invitation for petting, something the Merc embarrassingly asked for before out of pure curiosity. Now, it turned to a habit, and another damn habit where she let her hands glide over the scales. Soft and smooth it was akin to a snake skin but still tougher and thicker. She let her mind wander like how her hand traced where the hues between light and dark merged one another. A simple activity that felt more…
“Just… thinkin’ bout feelings and things,” Argus grumbled, glaring at the appendage as it curled around her wrist. “I don't like what I feel.”
“Did something went wrong from the mission?”
She shook her head. “No, it's towards a certain someone.”
Anjo's face fell. Argus sighed.
“No, not her but someone else entirely…” Confusion, embarrassment and that damn word she didn't want to name again.
“Guavas, passion fruit and…” Anjo's face lights up. “Oh, strawberries! Are you perhaps in love?”
“What in hell's name you're talkin’ about?!”
Anjo’s smile widened, her nose slightly crinkled as she sniffed the air. “Oh it is a faint scent, so it's still a budding love. Guavas because… you're unsure of your feelings? I understand, I know how difficult and terrifying it is to love someone.”
Damn her and the succubus traits. Her cheeks felt warm, so did her ears and Anjo’s eyes glinted in delight. She needs to get out of here. Hastily, she got up—almost tripping back inside but Anjo wrapped her tail around the merc’s waist to keep it steady.
Soft, plump, warm—
“Get your tail off of me!”
Anjo winced, sinking back to make herself smaller. Now she truly done it, Argus immediately turned to comfort the succubus. She didn't mean to yell at her, but it hit too close from home. This is why she didn't want to deal with anything romantic at all. She was tough to love and to some a broken thing; why would anyone want her?
“Sorry, sorry… I just ah… I’m not—” she pointed at herself, to Anjo, the air around them. Use your words, damn it. “—great with this.”
“Mhmm…” Anjo nodded slowly, lips pressed to a thin line. “It’s fine, I understand. Not everyone is comfortable that I know how they feel. People's masks are a commodity and to some, their lifeline. Behind those are thoughts they don't want anyone to be exposed and… I usually do that.”
A stalemate. Argus opened and closed her mouth while the other nibbled their nails, tail curled around her own waist. Sighing softly, she reached out and placed her hand over Anjo’s.
“You’d be irritated at yourself again if you keep doing that.”
“Mhmm, I know.” a weak smile.
“Look, I just…” Just say it out loud. “I don't think I deserve her love, so I'm just… tryin’ to throw these feelings, whatever these thoughts away; I ain't a romantic at heart, you know?”
She forced a laugh, Anjo gave a look of pity. Great, just great. Argus sighed once more as she slumped back on the porch stairs, hands on her face. A loud groan soon followed. Damn her and these thoughts, these feelings and everything else.
“And why do you think of yourself like that?” Anjo asked in a soft voice. She settled close to Argus, hand hesitating whether to pat her shoulder or not. “Are you afraid?”
Argus couldn't bear to look at Anjo's inquisitive gaze. With a quiet voice to match her, she answered, “Look at me. I toe the line between life and death because of my job, I move places, I'm turning blind and… I have nothing much to offer. I've been a fool at times, hugely stubborn to the point I know its… worrisome to some people. I don't have much to offer to her.”
Not to mention the grief she still carried towards Kayla; a hard pill to swallow.
“So I don't think she deserves love from someone like me…”
So what if she slowly grew to like Anjo's presence—the person she almost shot and threatened at—to the point she was falling? How could talking and listening to her shit ass woes made her feel like this? This couldn't be love; this was only loneliness gnawing her from the inside and out.
“Love is a strange thing but at the same time not,” Anjo said, looking up at the moon. “People always try to look for it, make it grow or it sometimes comes in an unexpected way; that last one always terrifies people especially those who deemed themselves… unlovable.”
She looked at Argus with a soft and warm smile on her face, “Maybe today, you wouldn't see it as important or the feelings should be squandered; that will only hurt yourself in the long run. You can let yourself feel it, Argus—see where it goes. There's nothing to be terrified of it.”
“I’m not—” Argus sighed, hands slightly trembling. “—maybe I'm just confusin’ this ‘love’ on something platonic. So, I don't think she feels the same way for me.”
“You never know until you ask, dummy!” Anjo giggled and gently punched Argus on the shoulder. “But I know confession is such a terrifying thing! Ah, I still remember the day Matilda confessing to Sonetto, they're so adorable don't you agree? Mhmm the taste of strawberries and grapes were such a delight.”
If only it was that easy. Argus massaged her shoulder, feeling the slight sting of the punch. She should tell Anjo to control her strength a bit better, but she doesn't have it in her heart to ruin this moment. Confessing that easily? It wasn't her style and she truly believed Anjo never saw her that way. The succubus is always friendly and warm to people, a truth that the Merc must swallowed before she put a gun in her mouth.
“Maybe I'll confess if I learn if she sees me that way, but I still doubt it.”
“Once again, just ask her and then she'd tell what she feels for you. You could try—I know subtly and romance isn't your speciality—but try to have… more flare.”
“Flare?” Argus scoffed. “Next thing you'll say I'll have to dance to earn her heart.”
“Well that's what peacock do to attract mate, isn't it?”
Argus immediately got up—Anjo latched on her leg and tried to stop her from leaving.
“Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't mean it that way!”
“As if I believe that!”
But she let herself be dragged back down, now Anjo kept giggling and being much more physically than before. Shoulder to shoulder, the tail curled around her waist and lay flat on her lap, arms around her bicep. Too close for the usual close off Merc.
“Just be you if everything fails.”
“So there is a high chance of failing?”
“Don’t twist my words.” Anjo rolled her eyes. “What I’m trying to say is that all this thinking, brooding, whatever you’re doing isn’t going to earn that love you want to happen.“
“I rather not let it happen.” That was the last thing she ever wanted to right now.
“I swear if I find out who this person is, you better be prepared to catch those arrows.“
“Be my cupid for all I care, you won’t be able to guess who it is.“ Argus cracked a small smile, if only she knew—wait was that…
“Are you purring?”
“...Does it bother you?” Anjo pulled away slowly.
But Argus wrapped her arm around Anjo's waist and kept her close. “Its fine, it's… unexpected and you sound like an engine.”
“Oh, I am not!” Anjo gasped, but she curled closer with the merc. “I’m just a happy little succubus and quite well fed at that. Despite your… stoic and grumpy appearance, you bring a lot of emotions on the table; it's quite a fruit punch though I can taste a slight hint of jackfruit.”
“Isn’t that the fruit that smell… a lot?” she sniffed herself. “Are you calling me stinky?”
“They taste good! It’s a matter of preference!“
Now it was Argus' turn to roll her eyes, huffing softly but the smile still stayed. It was probably a Beyond—succubus adjacent—thing for them to taste and feed emotions. Never in her life she'd met one and yet, here she was. Her life truly turned upside down ever since Vertin pulled her from that wheel.
Idle chatter aside, Argus felt… content. No missions to worry about for tomorrow, no bounties or even training. Just herself and whatever time she'd spent working on, maybe she'd use that opportunity to fix that hunk of junk in the Wilderness.
“Alright,” she slapped her knees and slowly got up for the third time. “I should get some shut eye now or else my eyes would fall off at this point.”
“Do you want me to lead you?”
“I ain't no granny.”
“The lights are already off though.”
Argus glanced inside and sure enough, the living room lights were off and the hallways too. She spotted a Laplace researcher snoring loudly on the couch with their beagles all curled up on them and around the couch.How long were they outside? Time passes so quickly if one's too deep in their thoughts…
“Just turn it on for me.”
“And disturb Medicine Pocket with their beagles?” she shivered in fear, “Then please be my guest.”
She pressed her lips to a thin line. A look at Anjo's offered hand and then back inside where the sleeping mutts were. Should she risked it? Stumbling in the dark for a light switch, but a high chance disturbing them and have a pack of dogs chasing her blind ass or Anjo with her night vision? Agh, who was she kidding…
“I just need to go to my room, and nowhere else, got that?“ Argus held her hand.
“Of course, why would you think I’ll get you lost?“ Anjo entered the room, hands intertwined with the merc. It’d be easy as pie traversing the place, but she’d made sure Argus could still follow her.
“I still remember that incident from Chinatown,“ she grinned, if only she could see Anjo’s expression right now with how loudly she gasped.
But the merc’s amusement fade once darkness clouded her entire vision. A loud snore on her right, a distant violin piece on her left, and the distinct smell of beef—dog treats. Walking slowly, minding where the carpet ends and where the floorboards start with a creak; the last thing she wanted was to trip. It felt like eternity walking through the abyss while relying on someone else other than herself. It doesn’t feel as bad being in the passenger seat for once, but she shouldn’t get used to this feeling…
“Here we are!“ Anjo opened the door with a flourish and turned on the lights. Argus winced at the sudden brightness, blinking away the pain as she let her eyes adjust bit by bit. Barren, barely any decorations and the desk filled with ammos, documents for bounty and a handful of pricrasma candies. One look at the far corner was a trash full of wrappers and alcohol bottles. It was home for Argus, and what’s the use of prettifying it when one day she’d kick the bucket. Anjo didn’t seem to have the same sentiment.
“You lived like this?“
“Pretty much,“ she replied with a shrug. “I don’t see any reason decoratin’ here when I’m rarely home here.“
Anjo furrowed her brows with concern. She opened and closed her mouth then decided not to speak up about the matter of her room; that was much better anyway.
“But you have to hide these or at least not eat them,“ she said and pointed at Argus’ stash of candies. “Master Vertin won’t be please if she finds this and especially Mesmer Jr. too. These days she is one step closer to strangling you.“
The merc scoffed but begrudgingly stuffed the stash in her drawers and scattered where she put her ammos. The Laplace already knew her distaste of them trying to fix her eye. It wasn’t needed and certainly she wouldn’t accept those treatments that was forcibly pushed on to her (It was a recommendation, but she was sure it was an intervention for her pricrasma)
“There, happy?“
“I would be if you stop taking them.“
“Now you’re askin’ too much, princess.“
Anjo rolled her eyes and walked near the doorway, eager to get some shut eye or because she already did her job for Argus. “Well, I better go and get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning?“
“Where else would I be?“ Argus chuckled as she waved and close the door behind her. Finally, peace and quiet…
Alone with her thoughts and fading vision mixed with pain, she slumped face first on the bed. The interactions replayed like an old film. Anjo’s smile, her laughter and their bickering—god, she couldn’t let that one be sad. How does her, the One-Eyed Giant, the most fearsome bounty hunter in Texas caved in with a single pout? It was true love makes you stupid and even more blind.
She rolled on her back, stare at the ceiling with hopes of an answer—there were none. Shit. An arm over her face, and a deep yet exhausted sigh escape through her lips. Maybe tomorrow she’d find her answer or these feelings would go away. Time heals things, right? There was no room for love in her heart. Anjo deserves someone better that could keep up with her, not a merc whose slowly going blind. Over and over, the thoughts kept circling, drowning and pulling her deep in the abyss of her mind—self doubt and self-deprication that seemed to never end. Perhaps that’s what she wanted all along.
This was her punishment for being a failure. However, she couldn’t deny if the cupid’s arrows would strike through and that would change her mind over everything. Hah, fat chance.