faithlikeaseed: (blind - :J)
Myrobalan Shivana ([personal profile] faithlikeaseed) wrote in [community profile] middaeg 2019-10-26 04:59 am (UTC)

[And Myr's never been shy about touch if someone else starts it, so he's amenable to having his hand taken and guided where Linden wills. Even if the ridge of scar tissue under his fingers provokes a faint wince, he's amenable; this is something he needs to face, the marks of a fight he'd picked left written into the flesh of someone he cared about.

That Linden had survived it feels like a miracle in itself. He'll be on his knees for it at his shrine later.

(That Linden had, apparently, forgiven him for it--or near enough as to approach him out of the blue and ask for a drink--... He'll thank the Maker for that too.)

The drink, the relief, the fact Linden started it has an emboldening effect on Myr, too; he slides his hand down in the briefest fond touch to the side of Linden's face, teasing, as he does--
]

You've got the bones for being handsome, if you'd eat more. [The large-eyed skeletal waif look had never done it for Myr before, but he's a kind soul, and even if all Linden seems to have to him is bone...they are nice bones.

He takes his hand back before he can think on that too far.
] But I won't argue you've got Maferath's own luck; I was afraid, [lightly said, but never, ever lightly meant,] I'd killed you.

[One corner of his mouth quirks up at Linden's revelation on the date, the smile between fond and rueful.] Right on the cusp of their new year--and that's a piece of luck too, isn't it? Happy birthday, Linden. S'pose you ought to get yourself dinner and dessert, on me, too.

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