"honestly, i don't know." fernando's not really a betting man. he prefers to have the odds tipped heavily in his favor and though she probably wasn't his most prizeworthy asset, she still meant...something to him. 

that hour in their kitchen, him unraveling his twisted truths before her, claiming that he cared, snakes through her thoughts. if he does care, will he let her walk away? 

the thought of that mist surging through her again makes her shudder. 

king's there to bring her back. she scoffs and sets her fork down. too much talk of their burdens has squashed her appetite. 

"that really what you think of me?" she says dryly.

KING WAYLAND

☉

"no use worryin'" he says, as much to himself as he does to her, "hell usually comes knockin' whether ye want it to or not."
[Break][break]
but with his next statement he feels as if he'd just walked into the perverbial pyroars den.
[Break][break]
"not entirely, no." he chuckles out, finger reaching out to move a lock of hair out of her eyes. "but yer feisty as a mother fucker, i'll tell ye that, even if ye come from the Hightower."

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

"truer words have never been spoken." especially in hoenn. seems like that should be their region's damn slogan at this point. but king's not talking about hoenn or about the rest of the world. he's talking about one of the most powerful men in the region and she has no fucking clue how he's going to react. 

well, there'd be plenty of time to dwell on such things in the future. she needs to get her head on straight and figure out her next course of action. 

which is hard, when she's being given affection like so. she eyes him, the indignance in her eyes not so powerful with the blush tinting her cheeks. 

"i spent most of my adolescence in a foster home, you know. i was old enough i'd given up on being adopted. mm, something about how feisty i was always broke the deal.

"i love the morningstars very dearly - they're my mother and father, by all accounts, but i wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth." she pauses. "and i don't know why it irks me that you think i was."

KING WAYLAND

☉

her thought is a somber one, but somehow despite all of that, king finds himself grinning. he compares the freya that's sitting next to him, the one he'd met all those weeks ago. she'd changed, surely, but there was always something there.
[break][break]
"i could imagine little freya beatin' up some of the other kids." this one causes him to laugh a moment, and while others would be hesitant around such a topic, he embraces it. his own childhood had let festering wounds that lasted to this day. he understood.
[break][break]
"can ye blame me though? the way ye talk, the way ye carry yerself it screams upper class — nothin' wrong with that, mind ye. doesn't bother me a bit."

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

"little freya beat up bullies in the name of 'justice,'" she says with a snort. but her eyes are sad. she doesn't often think about that chapter in her life. she is, after all, and by all accounts, a different person. king's not wrong there. but still, kalos' soil is still where her roots had been grown - where she'd come, kicking and screaming into this world, taking her mother with her. 

"no?" she says, looking up. she'd thought it did - the way he walked around her calling her princess. 

"we don't know much about each other, do we?" she shifts awkwardly. "do you regret me coming to you? the other night?" 

KING WAYLAND

☉

"justice, eh? now look at ye — shacked up with one of the worst of the worst. at least i make killer eggs, ye?" this one causes him to snicker, though he doesn't much feel it.
[break][break]
he does move to stand, however, noting that they were both seemingly finished. he grabs his, than hers, moving to toss them into the trash, than the dishwasher.
[break][break]
"can't say we do," he admits, never having given it much thought. in a way he preferred this — the man he really was drove people away, forced them to seek him out to kill him, or worse, fake their death entirely just to never see him again. so, he didn't really feel eager to share that with others.
[break][break]
"i've got a lot of regrets, but can't say gettin' laid is up there." a joke, a defensive measure. "the real question though, princess," he adds that last bit teasingly, "is do ye?"

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

the worst of the worst. she's no idiot. the league's been wanting an excuse to bring wayland in for years. old freya would have poured over his file, made her decision about him before ever setting food in his establishment. but she still hasn't looked, hasn't asked - part of her doesn't want to know. 

leave the past in the past. gods knows that's what she's trying to do. 

she gives him a measured stare - for the first time, she tries to look under that layer. she has decent intuition and finds similarities. while she covers herself with sheets to feel invulnerable, he hides behind sarcasm and jokes. 

she steps off of her chair and comes between him and the counter - hip to hip, near nose to nose. 

"no," she says. "i haven't felt this alive in a long time. so all this craziness aside, what if i said i wanted to stick around?"

KING WAYLAND

☉

admittedly he's a bit surprised when she places herself between him, and the counter. that doesn't happen too often.
[break][break]
to be this close to her not in a grapple, or throwing hooks, was odd. it really put into frame their encounter the other night and just how their... relationship has changed in the course of a few days.
[break][break]
he stares her down, eyebrow raised in question.
[break][break]
"ye? why would ye wanna do that?"

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

"like i said," she starts, raising a hand to gently cup his cheek. the warmth of another human being. how something so small, so inconsequential, can make her realize how touch-starved she is. "i feel alive."

maybe one day they'd take it further. they'd move from surviving to thriving, that their touches wouldn't be out of desperation or puppeteered by the threats that loom around them. but for now, this is enough. 

and it's more than she deserves. 

"if you want to keep our relationship as simple as mentor and mentee, then i'll respect that, but," she purses her lips, thumbs the corner of his, "i don't think that's what you want."

KING WAYLAND

☉

her touch is surprisingly warm in both physical sensation and the knot in his chest. he finds himself surprised as he realizes he's slightly leaning into her touch.
[Break][break]
"i suppose that's good a reason as any", his voice comes out softer than usual, a gravely tone to it.
[Break][break]
but... did he want more? could he take the pain of loss any more? did it matter?
[Break][break]
he settles on an answer that needed no words. leaning down, king's lips meets hers.

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

one day, perhaps, they'll be able to strip these walls between them. they'll see each other as more than they are, more than their anger and desperation and fear and sorrow. 

her thumb slides away to make room for their lips to meet. this time, she is not greedy. she is soft, softer than his voice, fingertips light dapples on his cheek. she draws her other hand up to mirror, to close the rest of the world out. 

lashes flutter, eyes open as she kisses his lower lip and draws back in the slightest.

KING WAYLAND

☉

he should stop this, he knew. something about such a fragile relationship, built upon a house of cards, was wrong and destined to fail.
[break][break]
so why couldn't he?
[break][break]
when she pulls back so too does he, collecting himself and the rush of excitement that explodes through his veins. he was already shirtless, leaving little left in the imagination. but freya? [break][break]king's touch lingers at the hem of her shirt, eyes flaring as his lips pull back into an amused, hungry grin.
[break][break]
"you're not going to hide behind your covers again this time, are you?"

[attr="class","notes"]freya morningstar[break]

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

she would have been content to kiss his lips, the scratch of stubble across his chin. to twine her fingers in his hair and listen to their breaths, sharing closeness. comfort. but what's comfort for her is a segue for most and his hands stray lower, teasing at pushing this further. 

returning to that place where they were before - fevered and hungry. 

and, oddly, she finds she doesn't mind. that to see his smile brings her warmth. a sense of purpose. but her nerves still get the better of her. this isn't wild clawing and clashing in a half-lit room. 

early afternoon light spills across them. she tucks her wild mess of hair aside and tugs the shirt back off. she's barren underneath, save for that obsidian scale resting below her collarbone. 

"no," she says, gracing the curves of his side with her fingertips, "i won't hide from you again."

KING WAYLAND

☉