Olethros

thirty four - freyja

I'd found my refuge. Tucked away in Azriel's arms, smelling of the same soaps after he scrubbed our bodies clean. It was tranquil and delicate, entirely different than what he'd done to me just an hour before.

I remembered when he had once been stiff when I asked him to stay. He'd sat on the bed and stared off at the wall. Now, his arms were wrapped around me as I leaned against his chest. We were both nude, a blanket pulled to our hips. My fingers drew mindless circles on muscular thighs whilst his held my face. His arm circled around me, crossing over my breast so his hand could lay across my cheek.

He'd grown silent when he kissed me softly and whisked me away to clean the evidence of our deeds from my skin. He'd then dried us off and laid me in the bed, tucking me into his arm. We hadn't spoken and I feared those emotional walls were rising once more in his mind. Then, every so often, he would turn his head and press his lips to my hair. It felt like a gentle kiss, and almost like he mouthed unspoken words. I wanted to know what he thought or wished to say.

I turned my head in his hand, his fingers and chest warming my cheek. I knew he felt how hard my heart pounded as I thought over and over just how badly this could go. Perhaps he didn't find attraction as I did. Maybe this was purely physical for him. Was my body his refuge, or could my mind also be? I didn't want to intimidate him with my questions, but I found so many of them whirling within my mind.

My eyes fell to the toned torso beneath me, to the curve of muscle above his hip. He had many scars, some more silvery than the pinkish hue of his hands. What caught my eyes, though, were the marks on his skin that were reddened in their center, as though his skin had patched itself only in the past few hours. I noticed them earlier, when he'd been bathing me, but now they found their way into my constant thoughts. Had it been training? Had he been attacked?

"Azriel?" I spoke his name in a question. My voice sounded horrid against the calm silence in the room. He hummed, lips against my hair. "Were you training this morning?"

I felt his body stiffen beneath me and I nearly cried out. I knew questioning him would make him close off. He'd run away and I'd drown in the sorrows and absence of him.

"No, I wasn't," he answered shortly. I frowned, moving my hand over to trace the dark toned mark. His stomach tensed, a breath caught in his throat.

"What happened?"

He didn't answer me. Silence took over once more, but it felt too thick with anticipation or dread. I didn't want to pry, but I felt something deep within me that this may be my only chance to learn more about him. I wanted his emotion. I wanted his darkest side, his deepest thoughts. I wanted to know what his shadows said to him.

"I- I want you to know that I will not judge you, Az. I want to hear the worst parts of you. I want to hear them... because I want you to know that I can love those parts of you just as much as the rest."

I'd feared I'd gone too far. I'd confessed a deep part of my own soul, and he still hadn't breathed. My hand slid back to his thigh, my body trying its best to cease the trembling. The hand that cradled my cheek started to fall, dropping to my chest above the swell of my breasts. I knew he felt my stress then.

"I'd never-," Azriel begun, clearing his throat. "I'd never heard someone say that to me."

My heart cracked. He deserved to hear that someone loved him. He was so young, yet he was so broken. I wanted to piece him together, I wanted to hold all of his fragments in place and be the one to stand behind him when he needed me.

"I have never had someone care like that. I don't know... Freyja, I don't know how to react. I don't know what to say," Azriel murmured. I wanted to turn and face him, but his face was still pressed to my hair as he held me against him.