When In Doubt, Go With Blue

I'm Rubber; You're Glue

Anything and everything after the incident with the Burned One was a blur. You remembered Farah was there and that was the only reason you could surrender control, the reason you could relax. 

The next thing you remembered, you were in Farah's rooms, a mug in your hands. You looked around for her, upon realizing you were alone in the sitting room, and suddenly found a Farah-scented quilt draping your shoulders. You pressed the cloth to your nose and inhaled deeply. The brunette sat across from you, holding a cup of her own, and smiled at your reaction to the heaviest blanket in her rooms. "Do you remember what happened?" 

You stared at nothing for a time. "I lost control," you whimpered out, "a-fucking-gain."

While Farah couldn't exactly disagree with you, she wasn't sure you'd ever had control over this ability. "I've never seen anything like that before."

In other words, she didn't understand it and couldn't help with it. You burst into hysterical laughter at her statement. 

Farah very suddenly set a concerned hand on your knee. "This isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"It's unknown. If starting from scratch was viable, I'd have figured this shit out ages ago." 

The Headmistress' free hand held your face. "You didn't know anything about yourself. You're only just discovering yourself. But, and this is the important part, you are not alone."

Looking at the hopeful woman, desperate for you to believe her and hope with her, all you could do is remember how you had been hopeful before and it made zero difference. You couldn't give her anything she wanted or needed from you. You had no hope to show, too much crushed confidence to muster anymore; you were just an anchor. You kept Farah immobilized yet weighed her down just the same. Again. You slowly rose from your seat, and turned toward the door. 

Farah stood fast and grabbed your wrist. "Would you... stay?" she asked hesitantly. 

You froze, pulled to face her. The woman had a few inches on you so she had to smile down, insecure as she was. "With old enemies re-surfacing, I worry for the few I care for most."

You were awed. How could someone as powerful and mesmerizing claim to care for you? Let alone actually doing so. How could anyone so splendorous have a muscle in her heart engraved for someone so weak and helpless. 

Farah laid her head against yours. "Please stay," she whispered as her assiduity of how much better she'd sleep knowing someone was close flooded your brain. She trusted you. She needed someone she trusted. You worried you wouldn't be good enough for her, wouldn't be able to protect her if that was what she needed. 

You were, at this point, used to the layout of Farah's brain. What you were not accustomed to was fear plaguing her every thought. Every process in her brain was tainted by a terrified train of hormones trickling between your currently connected minds. Your magic-less eyes angled up to meet her desperate gaze. She was vulnerable too. She was capable of it. That seemed to have slipped your mind. Powerful, strong, confident, she was; practically a goddess, but not quite. Still mostly human. She had weaknesses and downfalls too. Salt water dripped down your cheeks in response to her powerful mind and the feelings behind it. "Farah," you sighed out, deeply affected. Her thumb moved back and forth over your cheek and you knew you were having a sleepover. Connected consciousnesses and all, the brunette smiled and angled her head to capture your lips with hers. She smiled too wide for anything more than a chaste kiss. 

"I'll make dinner," she volunteered excitedly. 

You laughed at her dramatics. "You know, I do know how to cook."