The Dragon Prince: Between Tales

Rayllum

Callum closed the giant door to the cottage, it moved as if in slow motion. When he turned around towards the inside of the room, Rayla was struggling to remove her arms from the long sleeve shirt she had on.

"Ugh," Rayla was frustrated with her shirt, soaked from going into the Moon Nexus.

"Here," Callum said as he approached her. Rayla's back was to him, she was facing her bed, where she had a new outfit already laid out. Callum grabbed the bottom of her shirt and tried to lift it over her head, instead of pulling her arms out first, like she was trying to do.

"It's like it shrunk," Callum struggled to get the shirt to move an inch.

"Callum," Rayla said, "I'm feeling claustrophobic," she sounded frustrated and anxious.

"Oh," Callum said as he took a step back, "I'm sorry," he stumbled through his response, "I was just trying to-"

"No," Rayla interrupted, "it's not you, it's this shirt!" She was pulling tightly at the neckline.

Callum looked at Rayla as she pulled desperately at her wet shirt.

"Just cut it off," Rayla said loudly.

Callum was surprised by her request, but picked up one of her blades. He grabbed the back of her shirt, pulling it away from her skin, "Don't move," he said. He put the blade against the wet cloth, at the bottom of the shirt and cut a small tear at the edge of the hem. He set the knife down and grabbed the shirt by the two ends of the tear, in three motions he tore the shirt apart.

Rayla's face felt warm, not from the heat, not from the intense struggle her shirt gave her. She felt her cheeks and the tips of her ears become hot. Her stomach fluttered as if filled with hundreds of Archangel Lunaris moon moths. Callum hadn't touched her; not when he was trying to pull the shirt over her head, not when he cut the bottom of the shirt, and not even when he tore her shirt. Without any physical touch, Rayla felt so close to Callum, she could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck. She kept thinking about this feeling, holding onto it before it fades away.

After Callum tore the back of Rayla's shirt apart, freeing her from her soaking wet prison, he stared momentarily at her back. She was so close to him. He could see her shoulders raise and lower as she breathed. If he were to lean forward just a few inches, his face would meet the back of her beck. Suddenly, Callum started to blush and became flustered.

Callum turned around sharply, giving Rayla privacy since she was almost topless. He walked towards to door of the cottage.

As he reached for the door handle, Rayla said, "You can stay."

Callum stopped.

"Just don't look, okay?" Rayla asked gently.

Callum nodded with his back still turned, he starred blankly at the door, then responded in the same gentle tone, "Okay."

Callum could hear Rayla rustling out of her soaked shirt and into her dry attire, he could hear her sighs and her movement. Without seeing her, he could imagine her perfectly, moving quickly out of her old clothes and into her new clothes, rushed and flustered.

"Okay," Rayla sighed and let out, relieved.

Callum turned around to look at Rayla, she was wearing a skin tight, black short-sleeve shirt and black pants that looked like leggings. He watched as she clipped her belt around her waist and the bag attached to it, she clipped around her inner thigh.

"Aren't you going to change?" Rayla asked Callum.

"Oh, um," Callum looked down at his clothes, dripping water onto the tile floor, "I can just-," Callum said as he started to draw in the air. He cupped his hands in front of his face, "Aspiro," and blew a tunnel of air into hands. The air was redirected from his hands towards his body, drying his outfit.