his tremors are earthquakes against her palms. she's no fool. the shower is warm and his prickly skin has put king at a distance from others for a very long time. having a kid hidden from you and an ex trying to kill you will do that, i suppose. but that doesn't stop her hands from wandering. 

they're intimate touches, but they're more exploratory than hot and heavy. she graces the canyons of his sides, lingers on the rough muscle at his hips. traces there, wandering to the base of his spine and up that curve, lips folding just over her own fingertips and at the tip of his spine. water dribbles down her chin. 

"i was thinking about ghosts," she mumbles. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

his body moves, and quivers beneath her touch. a man as bristled as he was, something like this was at one time, impossible. as if the touch of another human would leave them pinned and pricked.
[break][break]
king's breath hitches, muscles tensing, but that only lasts so long. eventually, he all of it... go.
[break][break]
"ghosts, huh?" he leans his head back, lifting it upwards more towards the ceiling. "yeh, they've been stickin' around a bit ta much lately."

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

it loosens a knot in him and at this, she takes a small step forward, closing some of that distance in this shower. chest against his back, arms resting at his hips so he fingers can lace together at his navel. it creates new rivers around them, entwining them. 

"i saw one. that night i came to you. but i think you knew that." her heart sits heavy in her chest.

"it wasn't right, what i did, but i wouldn't change it." her grip tightens.

KING WAYLAND

☉

"i did," he says with a softness that's tinged with melancholy. he feels something slowly begin to pull together in him, and he recognizes the anger. only this time, king doesn't embrace it.
[break][break]
"you weren't the first." he cranes in neck on one direction just barely, working out something left behind. "but.. it's been good." it was the only way he could describe it.

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

"that doesn't make it right," she says against his shoulder. he cranes his neck, rolls his shoulder, and she leans back just enough to raise a hand, knuckles kneading circles on the knot in his shoulder. 

she's no stranger to overworked muscles. and while she's seen him throw a damn good punch, she can't recall a time she'd watched him do anything remotely flexible. it makes her smile. 

"good, huh? that's all i get?" she teases. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

her sarcasm forces a small smile across his lips, but it disappears as another wave of grunts force their way through.
[break][break]
"you.." grunt "know what i mean." he lets her work the muscle for a moment, before slowly turning to face her. he flashes a toothy grin, whispers "swap", then begins to shift places with her.
[break][break]
soon enough his hands are finding purchase on her shoulders, working the tension that's settled so deep it might as well be limestone.

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

she drops her hand and obliges, sweeping fingers under long white locks to bare her shoulders to him. and then her eyes half-close to his rhythmic kneading. back when she had anything she could want at her disposal, massage therapy sessions were slotted neatly around time spent sparring, practicing archery, and everything else she needed to do to keep her edge for fernando. 

now, those luxuries are gone. it doesn't bother her, really, but king working on her shoulder makes her realize just how helpful her schedule had been. 

she could at least get back into her regular routine of stretches...

"why, i'm not sure i do," she says wryly with a slight turn of her cheek so he can see the lilt to her lips. "but yes, it's been good." she yawns, rubs her eyes. 

"and your hands are doing wonders," one eye cracks open after a beat, warning him not to say something uncouth. "but we should sleep. i've no desire to crash on the bathroom floor again."

KING WAYLAND

☉

of course, said uncouth statement was already working its way onto his lips, before it dies down beneath the one-eyed stare of a dragon.
[break][break]
"sure, sure. though, i wouldn't mind carryin' yer naked self ta bed." could ya blame him for one uncouth thing?
[break][break]
they shower with water alone, this time, as this place was so old anything left was simply untrustworthy. when they're finished he steps out first, grabbing two towels - tossing freya hers - and begins to dry off.

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

she gives him another look, though this one not as forceful. but it's not worth it to comment as he tosses her a towel. so she dries herself off, feeling all of her aches and pains and the warm heat on her arms from her burns. when she's dry, she hangs the towel and then reaches down for her toothbrush. 

there are two there, left forgotten on the sink. emma. she swipes both of them in the trash and then reaches under the cupboard for another package. luckily, she finds a double pack and rips it open, leaving the other for king to use if he'd like. 

and after she's done with that, she gets in pajamas and plops onto her back in bed, still-damp hair spilling out around her. soft blues stare up at the ceiling, wondering how they got here. 

KING WAYLAND

☉

the toothbrushes were a lucky find, and he simply shrugs and goes through the motions. his own hair is damp, chest bare, when he hits the covers alongside the dragon queen.
[Break][break]
idly, he scrolls through his phone, checking the latest social media feeds. the conversation between THEO BECKETT and GABRIEL BLACK, hosted by PENELOPE LIVY, plays through the speaker.
[Break][break]
he listens to it quietly for a singular moment, before locking the screen. best not to give freya thoughts about the damage dome to the city she loves so much.
[Break][break]
instead he turns and lays on his side, looking at her.

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

her head tilts, gaze casting sideways towards the phone as king watches a clip regarding sootopolis. it's hard to get away from the constant reminders about the state of things, about all they've lost and have yet to lose. it's partly why she has an out of date phone. she's found it needs less replacing than the rotom phones that are popular these days. 

so she's watching him by the time he darkens the screen and looks at her. her mouth is a flat line, blue eyes a bit wistful. longing isn't the right word, really, but there's a touch of it there as she traces her knuckles over his cheek. 

"i don't feel things for people," she says. "or, i guess that's not quite right. it takes a lot for me to feel things for people. i can count on one hand those i've ever truly cared about." her hand falls from his face, knuckles resting against his pillow. she shifts. a thin braid tumbles down her shoulder. 

"it's never felt wrong before. it just is." she blows out a soft sigh. "it's important, i think, that you know this. that you know i never recoil because of  you."

KING WAYLAND

☉

his own lips form a thin line, the faintest hints of an acknowledgement, a smile, as her touch lends itself to his cheek.
[break][break]
her confession, if you could call it that, conflicts him. every time he looked in the mirror he saw a monster— a demon waiting for his due. he'd expected freya to run, when the darkness came knocking, but there was only compassion, and understanding.
[break][break]
perhaps, most of all, that bothered him the most. the idea that someone could see him as more than what lie at the surface terrified him. he himself, no, everyone — saw him a monster.
[break][break]
so why was she different?
[break][break]
"maybe ye just haven't seen enough ta?" he jokes, tone light enough to pass most scrutiny, but there was certainly an edge to it.
[break][break]
or maybe, just maybe, this would all come crumbling down and his heart and soul would shatter for the last time.

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

[attr="class","wizzcredit"]☉

"don't flatter yourself," she says with a chuckle. the truth of it all is simple. he is a monster, but so is she. her fingers flex against the pillow, remembering her time in the baths, when her mind had stretched itself so thin she'd envisioned her own claws. nature's madness had gifted her true sight, in a way - in her mirror, she saw her true visage, skulking under the surface.

and king sees it too. because he has his own monster hiding under his flesh. she'd seen it that first time in the ring, when they tried their damnedest to claw it out of each other. their hypnotic, taunting dance all circled this moment - here, where they lay beside each other, accepting each other's ugly. 

"i've seen in here," she says, picking up that hand to press against his scarred chest. "and out there? they masquerade with gods and monsters and pretend like their word is law. let them play pretend. we know truth."

and then her fingers tighten and she laughs again, softer still - "it's why alexander and i never would have worked. it's why i thought the wolfe would be my one true love."

KING WAYLAND

☉