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atinymekanie · 6 days ago

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The Night We Met - Chapter 22: A Jasmine Blooms

|| Premise: What if Dawnbreaker's wish for one day and one night with the woman who lives only in his dreams... came true? ||

Pressure was the first thing Zayne noticed, the way his chest felt like it was being squeezed by an iron band, and then the dim ray of silvery light that broke through the darkness. A strange rushing sensation, like moving through air but thicker, moved over him and he felt himself being thrust upward toward the pallid light. He wasn’t sure if his lungs would burst before he made it to the odd light, but just as Zayne thought his chest would collapse, he broke through the viscous material and into cool air that bit at his skin.

Gasping for breath, he splashed his way through the suddenly rather shallow, weirdly thick water and dragged himself up onto the black sand. Where had the bottom come from? Hadn’t he just been tens of feet deep? Zayne pushed himself up onto his hands and knees and lifted his head, glancing around at the black sand that gave way to sparse grass dotted with tiny blue flowers and backed with tall, dark pines standing sentinel, and his heart plummeted. No…

A broken sound escaped him, his harsh breathing becoming choked as Zayne realized where he was, and where he wasn’t. His eyes widened as he gazed around, one hand coming up to clutch at his chest, his heart feeling like it was somehow beating too fast and too slow, all at the same time. She was gone. Linkon City, the house, the bed, her … All of it was gone, replaced by this bizarre in-between sort of place, and Zayne felt his heart shatter at the realization.

Zayne sank forward, his dark hair coming to rest on the black sand as his face contorted in a sob that wracked his whole frame. The hand that wasn’t pressed over his heart curled into the dark sand, his knuckles whitening as the fine grains poured through his fingers. Like her. She had been right there, in his arms, beside him, and now she was gone, having slipped through his fingers like sand in an hourglass.

Another sob left him, his body shuddering as Zayne fought to draw in a breath that pierced straight through him, a breath that might as well have been an icepick driven right through his now-frozen heart. His eyes squeezed shut as he fought to block out the dim moonlight and the ebony sand, the quiet sounds of wind in the pines and the gentle lapping of the not-water against the shore.

Memories swarmed through Zayne’s mind as he tried to focus on anything but where he was, images and sounds - her face, her eyes, her voice, her laugh - chasing all of it in a vain attempt to hang onto the fleeting moments he had been granted previously.

“Please, no…” His voice echoed peculiarly around the empty shoreline, almost unrecognizable to him in the anguish it carried, the words gasped and broken as Zayne begged whatever had brought him to this in-between place, this world betwixt his own heaven and his own hell. “Please… It can’t be over. Not yet. I can’t–” Can’t go back. The next words stuck in his throat, like flesh frozen to frigid metal, and he knew that if he spoke them, a part of him would be ripped away, if he acknowledged that his wish, his prayer, was over, his time with the woman he loved, ended.

Something akin to madness gripped him, and Zayne lifted his head slowly, his eyes wide, the stormy sea of his irises surrounded by icebergs of white as he shoved himself to his feet and turned back to face the huge expanse of dark water behind him. Nothing was stopping him from diving back in. Was it? Staggering forward, one hand still grasping at his chest, his fingers digging painfully into his own flesh as he slogged through the damp black sand, his breathing ragged and wheezing.

She was in there. Somewhere. He gazed down at the black water, his reflection and that of the woman staring back at him, just as they had done before. Zayne barely felt the cold breeze bite at his cheeks, the dampness on his face not even registering compared to the ache in his chest. If he dove in, would he die before he reached her? Did it even matter? The faces of his own reflection and that of the woman continued to look back at him, taunting him as they wavered ever so slightly in the water.

His chest heaved as Zayne eyed the reflections, more noises that he didn’t recognize filling the air and echoing oddly across the bizarre sea, sounds that belonged more to a wounded animal than to anything human. He had reached her once through the water. Would it hurt to try again? What did he have to lose, anyway? Nothing… The answer was nothing.

Zayne’s foot moved before he had even realized it, breaking the surface and sloshing ripples across the reflections as he took a step into the water. His hand dropped from his chest to his side, both of his hands curling into fists as he watched the ripples move across the reflection of the woman he loved. Drawing in a deep, shuddering breath, Zayne prepared to consign himself to either oblivion or a desperate hope, his other foot lifting, when something made him freeze.

Her reflection in the water had moved. Just like before . This time, it wasn’t her eyes, as they had been fixed on him from the beginning - it was her hand. The reflection of the woman had raised her left hand, her palm facing outward, almost as if saying… Stop.

“You don’t understand…” Zayne’s voice was barely above a whisper, and he wasn’t even sure to whom he was speaking, but nothing seemed to matter anyway. Not anymore. He lowered his head, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep his voice steady, to explain to this mirage, to whatever had brought him here, that death was preferable to a world without her. Without even the possibility of her.

His eyes snapped open and he took another step into the water, the syrupy liquid pulling at his ankles as it closed over his feet, more ripples causing the reflections to shudder and flicker as Zayne stared at them. As he opened his mouth to speak, to protest, to plead, her reflection moved again, curling her thumb and pinky together over her palm and leaving three fingers upright. His brow furrowed at the gesture, his breath hitching in his throat as his eyes moved to her hand, watching it closely. What…was she saying? Then, excruciatingly slowly, the reflection of the woman he loved bent her ring finger, curling it down to join her pinky and leaving just two fingers raised.

Questions and confusion flooded his mind, whatever Zayne had been about to say forgotten, but before he could articulate anything, the reflections in the water shuddered heavily, huge concentric rings spreading outward from the center of them as the ground beneath his feet shook. The dark water suddenly seemed to seep into the black sand beneath it, as if being sucked through a sieve, the reflections disappearing. Zayne heard himself scream as he fell to his knees, trying to grab onto the last droplets before they melted away. He felt himself falling forward as well, his hands sinking into the fine granules as the strange world between worlds faded around him.

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Zayne’s eyelids fluttered, his dark lashes wet with tears as his consciousness returned, along with the ache in his chest that seemed to be consuming him, body, heart, and soul. Light filtered through his eyelashes, brighter than he was used to seeing when he awoke, and for a single second he had the sheer audacity to hope that he might not be in that tiny apartment that would never be a home. Not now. Not when he knew where home truly was.

The soft, familiar blipping sound of the monitor crushed that kernel of hope, grinding it into dust finer than the black sand that had swallowed Zayne in his dream a few moments ago. A wave of despair rose up to meet his consciousness, stealing in through every orifice, and he squeezed his eyes shut once more, burying his face in his hands as reality sank in.

The thin, lumpy mattress beneath Zayne was cold and uneven, and the blanket over him was more threadbare than he remembered, the clammy air of his apartment sending a small shiver running through him as he tried and failed to suck in a breath. Time seemed to stop, and for a moment Zayne wondered if the breath he was taking would never come, and perhaps he could slip back into the dream he had come from.

But then his lungs expanded and he inhaled, and Zayne felt his heart break all over again, his already sore throat aching as oxygen burned its way through him, prolonging the anguish he felt. The steady sound of the monitor worked its way into his mind again, even as he struggled to remain adrift in nothingness, preferring it to the hell he knew he would face when he opened his eyes, along with another sound.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do,

haunted by the ghost of you…

Take me back, to the night we met…”

Soft, mournful music accompanied by haunting lyrics drifted through the otherwise empty apartment, the notes and words of the song sinking into Zayne’s thoughts and mirroring the words he couldn’t speak aloud. If only. The music slowly wound down, fading into static and leaving him lying curled in his bed, his hands covering his face as he fought against the overwhelming hole in his heart that seemed to be expanding exponentially the longer the silence continued.

Without warning, a memory similar to his current reality surfaced, followed by another and another and another, each one both familiar and not, both real and seemingly imagined, all scenes of a day in a life he knew well but hadn’t actually lived. What...were these? Zayne’s eyes flickered open, his despondency held momentarily at bay by the confusing input from his brain, as not only images but sounds and sensations and emotions also flooded through him, immersing him in a day that hadn’t been his.

Sitting up abruptly, Zayne rubbed at his eyes as he tried to stop the disconcerting scenes, to no avail. Scenes? Dreams? …Memories? His brow furrowed as his focus narrowed in on whatever it was he was experiencing, and he realized then why it all seemed so harrowing. The terror . It was a constant, low-grade pressure in every scene, that sometimes spiked higher as the images progressed throughout what he both had and hadn’t experienced.

But…why? Why had he been so terrified? This seemed like a normal day, like almost every other. Unless… It wasn’t normal. Not for the doctor. Zayne’s eyes flew open, his gaze wide and staring as he looked down at the grey plaid blanket that he both did and did not remember placing atop his bed. Could that be…what happened? He raised his gaze, his mind suddenly whirling back through the memories he somehow now had, looking for the worn cat plushie he had seen himself placing on top of the monitor.

The little cat stared back at him from its perch atop the monitor, its faded eyes and dingy fur suddenly reminding Zayne of the much newer, much less worn cat plushie he had won for the woman from his dreams. It had been determined to escape. His vision swam suddenly, the view of his dim bedroom blurring as tears pricked at the backs of his eyes, and he fought back the sob that rose in his chest. His throat stung as the sound became a sort of broken laugh at the memory of the little plushie continually dropping from the pocket of the coat he had worn.

Zayne shoved aside the thin grey blanket and stood, his feet carrying him the few steps to the monitor as he reached for the tired little plushie atop it and held it against his chest, almost crushing it to himself. Though its fur was faded, its nose worn down, its ear torn and its tail frayed, it was still almost identical to the one now sitting on the entry table of the house where he had fallen asleep the night before. The house where he had left her. The doctor’s house. Zayne gazed around at his bedroom for a moment, trying to process just what had happened to him, and without any other option, he began to sift through the not-memories he now had, floating through them as if in a daydream.

If the plushie was on the monitor… Zayne turned and spotted the nightstand, stepping toward it, images of typing on the phone that was stored there swirling through his thoughts. Holding the little cat in one hand, he yanked the drawer open and grabbed the phone, holding it up and unlocking it as quickly as he could before flicking to the notes icon. There, just as he had seen in the memories that both did and did not belong to him, were the two new notes - one a list of steps and the other a short set of instructions on caring for a jasmine plant.

Dropping the phone onto the bed, Zayne moved almost robotically into the living area, his gaze traveling across the suddenly spick and span kitchen, bathroom, and living area, including the newly cleaned window that let in much more light than usual now that it was free of the grime it normally held. The doctor…had done this. Somehow, the doctor had been here, while he had been in the doctor’s place. That was the only explanation. His chest still ached, but the consternation that had come over him had sent that ache to the back of his mind for a blessed moment.

His gaze fell onto the package on the table, and his feet carried him forward to it, the plushie in his right hand forgotten. Zayne stared down at the bread, jam, and dried fruit peeking through the brown paper packaging, his free hand brushing over the hastily scrawled note that was set beside it, the words on it flashing across the forefront of his thoughts. Freed? Along with the words came the images of the man in question dying, dark ice spearing through the crystals on his chest, and with the visuals came intense emotions - fear, revulsion, self-loathing, and more, all swirled together in a nauseating cocktail. Emotions that were reminiscent of what he normally felt at times like those, but much more visceral than usual. The doctor’s emotions.

The man’s last words echoed in Zayne’s ears as he watched the man fade away in his mind’s eye, even while his open eyes stared down at the food on the table. Thank you? He had said ‘Thank you’... The furrow in his brow deepened, his grip on the little cat plushie tightening as then the woman’s words from when they were sitting on the bench outside the cafe also reverberated through him. All of it roiled together at once to craft a strange realization, one Zayne wasn’t sure he could trust, but that he found he actually wanted to, even if for a moment.

The ache in his chest intensified once more at the memory of her, at the sound of her voice telling him she was proud of him, and Zayne blinked quickly, trying to keep any tears at bay. He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to keep the stinging pain in his heart from growing as her face flickered behind his closed eyelids. The view of her face as they sat on the bench together morphed slowly, into that of her face reflected in the water in that strange in-between place, and the pang inside of him intensified. His breath caught, frozen like ice crystals in his throat, the memory of the gesture she had made still vivid, before everything had come crashing down around him.

Three had become two. But three of what? The next thought came to Zayne’s mind unbidden, a desperate hope rising inside him like bubbles through dark water. Wishes came in threes. And a wish, a fervent prayer, had brought him to that place. And then to her. Hadn’t it? His eyes opened, his gaze lifting to the old TV set, where the static had finally blipped out and been replaced with a blank screen. He had been listening to that same song on the TV when he had fallen asleep, the night before last. It was what had caused him to whisper that irrational prayer into the ether whilst falling asleep. Did that mean…?

Zayne’s head tilted slightly as his eyes caught sight of something then, his unkempt dark hair falling into his eyes at the motion, his gaze shifting from the TV set to the something just beyond it that glowed faintly. There, in a swath of sunlight that came in through the clear window pane, sat the stunted jasmine plant, its leaves somewhat greener than he remembered, and at the top, instead of the tiny white bud from before was a pale, pristine flower, its petals unfurled in the warm, golden light.

His feet were moving before he realized it, carrying him across the minuscule living area and bringing him directly in front of the small plant, his knees folding as he sank down to the immaculately clean, if still faded, linoleum. It was…blooming. Zayne sat the little cat in his lap without thinking, atop the fabric of his sleep pants, and raised one hand to brush a trembling finger over one of the alabaster petals.

“Plants are like…people.” The words left Zayne’s lips slowly, each one formed deliberately, echoing what the woman had told him in the botanical garden, the sound of his voice breaking the silence in twain. They flourish best when cared for and loved. Another pang shot through him, more of her words coming unbidden to him as he gazed at the tiny, snow-white flower before him. Because I love Zayne. And you - you’re Zayne. His heart thudded inside his chest, smashing itself against his ribs, the sound of blood rushing in his ears making Zayne’s head pound with the force of it.

She loved Zayne. And he and the doctor were both… Zayne. Zayne’s gaze was fixed on the flower, but his mind’s eye was elsewhere, seeing her face in the center of the bloom, seeing the way her eyes lit up when she looked at him, the ache in his chest easing ever so slightly at the memory. At her love. Because, somehow, against all odds, she… loved him. Against all odds, she had seen him. And still, she loved him.

Despite the fact that he was a kill– No… She had called him a hunter, hadn’t she? Like her. Zayne sucked in a breath, the sound wavering in the stillness of the small apartment, shivering like the dust motes in the sun beam that shone down on him and the jasmine before him. Whatever he was…she loved him. And she knew now that he loved her. Always.

His fingers brushed gently over the pale petals once more, Zayne’s lips curving into the faintest of smiles at the thought, despite how much his chest felt like it was being ripped open now that he was apart from her. But then again… He lifted his face up toward the window, staring out through the glass as the sunlight fell across his skin, the gold flecks in his emerald eyes reflecting the light as he thought back to the gesture her reflection had given him.

Could it be possible? If it had happened once… It stood to reason it could happen again. Three became two. Two…wishes? Two prayers? Two chances left? Zayne wasn’t sure, but he knew in his heart that he would take whatever chance he could get, if it meant seeing her again. A deep sigh left him then, his eyes closing as he struggled to rein in his emotions, even as they galloped through him - everything from hope to fear to desire to love and more.

The ache in Zayne’s chest began to settle slowly, the warmth of the sun on his face sinking into his skin, similar to the way the light of her Evol had sunk into him, chasing away the ice that normally ran through his veins. His lips curved a little more at the thought, his smile growing ever so slightly as Zayne remembered the way her hand had felt on his chest, pressing over his heart. Home. No matter where he was, at least he now had a home. Somewhere out there.

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Zayne wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he sat there in the gentle sunlight, his hand hovering above the jasmine flower, the little cat plushie on his lap, but eventually the moment was broken as his stomach growled. His eyes flickered open, and he looked down, his brow furrowing. That was odd. Feeling hungry wasn’t a usual occurrence for him.

Slowly, Zayne turned his head, his gaze moving automatically to the refrigerator that held the nutrient drinks he normally used as sustenance, but his nose scrunched up at the very thought. They would be nothing like the food from yesterday. With a groan, Zayne pushed himself to his feet, dreading the taste of them but knowing he needed to eat something.

Before he could make it to the refrigerator, the package on the table caught his eye, and Zayne found himself gravitating toward it almost reflexively. Right. He did have another option, other than those bland beverages, since he was actually hungry. How unusual. Still holding the little cat, he moved over to one of the drawers in the kitchen area and took out a knife, then stepped back to the table.

Tucking the cat plushie under one arm, Zayne slowly went about the task of cutting off a slice of bread, opening the jam, and spreading it over the slice, his thoughts still a bit numb from everything that had happened. All of it seemed too insane to be true, and yet… Once he had finished with the task, he set the knife down and moved almost methodically toward the old TV set, turning it back on and adjusting the controls for a moment, before he went over to the couch and sat down, ignoring the jar of chocolates that still sat there.

The TV screen flickered to life as Zayne leaned back against the couch, noticing that the cushions had been swapped, the seat he was sitting on a little more comfortable than before, and how the small apartment looked just a little less dingy than he remembered it. He took a bite of the bread and jam, the flavor of the blueberry jam bursting on his tongue. Like the macarons, at the cafe with her.

Another small smile flitted across Zayne’s face, his eyes closing as he chewed slowly, enjoying both the taste and the memory it brought with it, savoring it like the precious gem it was to him. The sunlight from the window drifted in, illuminating the once dim living area of his apartment, including the blooming jasmine beside the TV, and falling across the faded cat plushie that now sat in his lap as music began to play from the TV speakers once more.

“I am not the only traveler…

Who has not repaid his debt…

I've been searching for a trail to follow, again…

Take me back, to the night we met…”

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Tags: @callme-naomi @seris-the-amious @schnittled @punk-cat @criffininflight @justpassingdontworry

Author's Note - I would like to thank eldritchopossum and aikursoul for encouraging me and for beta-reading this incredibly long fanfic, as this would never have been written without them. ❤️

Also, THANK YOU to anyone who has followed along with this story as it was unfolding, I appreciate you more than you know, and I see every like and comment and reblog and all of you have also encouraged me to continue. I cannot thank you all enough, especially those who took a moment to let me know their thoughts and critiques and how the story affected them, if it did at all, and I wish I could do more to thank you than just write a blurb, but here we are. ❤️

Please feel free to comment, discuss, send me an ask or a message - I will always do my best to answer and I will never be annoyed by it! This story is also on AO3, as are my other works, if anyone would like to visit there and peruse.

The Night We Met by Vira Daan on AO3

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atinymekanie · 7 days ago

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i love when characters don't get to die

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atinymekanie · 7 days ago

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i love being a 30+ woman in fandom. reblog if you also love being an old dame in fandom

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atinymekanie · 12 days ago

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I have some news for members of the united states armed forces who feel like they are pawns in a political game and their assignments being unnecessary.

#utilize your rights #don't follow fascism #fight fascism

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atinymekanie · 13 days ago

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victorian trans guy who goes to beloved local barber sweeney todd and presses half a crown in his hand and says “begging your pardon sir, i know it ain’t much but i was hoping you might tell my employer i get me shaves from you should he ever come around. only he’s been asking me how i keep my chin so smooth and i haven’t the heart to tell him i can’t grow a beard, so i might have told him a little lie, sir, and said it’s all due to your wonderful skill, sir” and sweeney todd goes “no problem. by the way would you say your employer deserves to die”

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atinymekanie · 13 days ago

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The Night We Met - Chapter 21: Home

|| Premise: What if Dawnbreaker's wish for one day and one night with the woman who lives only in his dreams... came true? ||

Light shone down, shifting and moving, beams and rays striking through dark currents, getting closer and closer. A sense of rising, rushing, speeding through frigid water, that slowly became warmer, filled him as the doctor got ever closer to the source of light. Pressure grew in his chest, his lungs burning and aching as a force outside of himself sent Zayne headlong into the light.

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Zayne’s mind swam up from sleep slowly, the warm, red glow from beyond his eyelids beckoning him towards it, and for a moment, panic suffused him as he remembered where he had gone to sleep. Blinking and squinting against bright morning light, silence met Zayne’s ears. Blessed silence. No blipping, no beeping, no alarms… only silence. Silence and warmth.

His eyes flew open fully, ignoring the scratchy sting as sunlight from the windows in his bedroom shone into them, and Zayne felt the panicked pressure in his chest recede as his gaze landed on the face of the woman sleeping beside him. Relief the size of a tsunami flooded through his veins, his breath stolen by the sheer impact of the realization that he was home.

Home. Not the house, not the city, not the world nor the time nor the reality, but here. In her arms. A shudder ran through him then, as the vice grip his chest had been caught in was replaced with a fiercely sharp sensation – one that spoke of too many emotions to put a name to, and Zayne exhaled fully for what felt like the first time in ages. Or at least twenty-four hours.

As carefully as he could, Zayne pulled the woman toward him, though his arms were already wrapped around her, and enfolded her into his embrace. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in the scent of her, his mind finally relaxing, the tension and fear and dread he had carried with him for the past day and night slowly filtering from his system. It bled from him in waves, with every breath he took, with every thrum of blood through his veins, and with every moment that passed that made Zayne realize he was safe. That this wasn’t a dream.

Deep breaths calmed him, each one making way for the next in an uneven rhythm that grew steadier the longer he felt her pressed against him, felt her warmth like that of the sun on a winter’s day, felt her hair brushing his face, and felt her chest rising and falling against his own. Zayne did his best to make sure he didn’t wake her, keeping the pressure of his arms around her as loose as he could manage, despite the need he felt to clutch her against himself.

Time passed slowly, every breath an eternity Zayne would have gladly held onto even as the next one began, and as his mind calmed, memories that were both his and not his began to strain through the sieve of his subconscious and into his waking thoughts. Scenes of waking up, getting dressed, eating breakfast, visiting the arcade, and walking in the park flitted through his mind. Images of the botanical garden, the food at the street market, and the view of the beach in the moonlight all paraded across Zayne’s consciousness, the constant in them the woman sleeping in his arms.

His brow furrowed deeply as these memories bled into him, confusion filling him as he realized that not one of these memories was familiar – not one of them was something he himself had experienced. Or were they? Each memory came with sensations, feelings, and emotions, ones Zayne was both used to and not, in a strange cocktail that made his head swim and his heart pound.

The scenes and images began to play faster, the day he had somehow experienced and missed at the same time moving in short order – the lights of the city, the metro, the walk from the station, the feeling of coming back to a foreign house that wasn’t foreign at all, the warmth of a shower, the expanse of her smooth skin, soft kisses that grew into— Zayne’s eyes snapped open, his chest constricting as the world screeched to a halt.

What…were those memories? When were those memories from? Whose were… Breathing became difficult for Zayne as the reality of when and where and how he had such memories crashed down over him. His eyes squeezed shut and his hands tensed against the fabric of the woman’s sleepshirt, the blood in his veins sluggishly chilled as ice pricked through his heart, making his limbs heavy and his breath catch.

Nonononono. Zayne could feel his Evol swirling to life inside his chest, his whirlwind of emotions making it rear its frigid head, its monstrous jaws enclosing his heart whilst dripping glacially cold saliva through his arteries. It was all Zayne could do to extricate his arms as quickly and carefully as possible from around the woman beside him, pulling his shaking limbs from her form as he sat up. Not far enough.

Fear ricocheted through him, and he slipped from beneath the covers, moving almost on autopilot as his mind drowned in sights he hadn’t seen and sensations he hadn’t felt, his body carrying him from the bedroom on stumbling feet. Zayne staggered into the living room, one hand pressed to his chest above his heart, his fingers curling into the fabric of his favorite pajamas, his eyes wide and staring as the temperature around him began to drop.

His knees hit the ground by the low coffee table, his other hand reaching for it, trying to steady himself as pain erupted in his chest, in his arms, in his heart. Each breath sent frost skittering through the fissures in Zayne’s lungs, the cold crawling through him like spiders along skeins of silk. The memories belonged to the hunter. Were they dreams, then? But if that were the case, why could he feel them? Dreams had no sensations. Zayne knew that for a fact, his dreams only ever consisted of images and vague emotions, but everything about these memories was in technicolor, as though he had experienced every single one. Even…

Zayne drew in a shuddering breath, his chest heaving as he tried to block out the wave of almost searing cold that froze the blood pumping through the ventricles of his heart, ice crystals slowly forming on his skin. Need to regain control. No matter what had happened, hurting her because he lost control of his Evol was not an option. He sucked in another breath, forcing it past the lump that had formed in his throat, the frigid air feeling like it was ripping the flesh from inside of his windpipe as it rushed into his lungs. Then Zayne forced himself to do it again. And again. And again.

Narrowing his focus to the piercing cold in his chest, he drew in breath after breath, each one making his hand grip the edge of the coffee table a little tighter, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. Slowly, Zayne began to pull his Evol back under his control, his breathing eventually steadying from gasps to more controlled inhalations, and the ice that had formed on his forearms began to recede.

Droplets of melted Evol ice and cold sweat dripped onto the grey rug beneath his knees, some from his hands and some from his forehead, as Zayne managed to rein in the winter inside his chest. Irises, the color of broken green agate, stared unseeing down at the rug as the cold inside him waned, as his Evol slowly seeped back into the background, leaving him shivering on his knees.

Sunlight from the tall windows was filtering in, and Zayne closed his eyes tightly, the light and the overwhelming sensations from his Evol acting up and the strange memories causing his head to pound. How could this have happened? How could she… Pressure wrapped around his chest once more, Zayne’s eyes stinging as he fought against the emotions pouring through him. There must have been a reason. Did she not realize? How could she not have realized? That it was the hunter, and not him.

Zayne released his death grip on the edge of the coffee table, slowly sitting back as he knelt on the ground in the living room, the familiarity of his surroundings bringing little comfort to the turmoil in his mind and heart. His hands shook as he brought them to his thighs, his fingers curling as they pressed into the fabric of his pajama pants, and he tilted his head back, breathing deeply through his nose in a desperate attempt to regulate the emotions streaming through him.

Rationality was all he had to cling to, and so Zayne did, forcing himself to sift back through the events of the day he hadn’t lived, and yet somehow had been a part of, all the same. Other emotions came to him then, bleeding into him as he roamed through the scenes – wonder and awe upon waking, then sheer panic, disbelief at being recognized, overwhelm upon leaving the house, amazement at the taste of food – all of these emotions and more imprinted upon Zayne as he relived the day through the hunter’s eyes, seeing and feeling and experiencing each moment.

Just as the one constant in the scenes of the day had been the woman who was currently asleep in the bedroom behind him, there was one constant emotion Zayne felt throughout every waking moment the hunter had experienced in his place. …Love. A kind of ache that ebbed and flowed as the day had passed, that thrummed and hummed each time the woman had looked at him, that zinged through his veins at every laugh and every touch from her.

The hunter…loved her? The thought appeared through the murky haze created by the feelings and sensations and visuals passing along Zayne’s synapses, wavering in the back of his consciousness and slowly boring its way through his mind as he relived the previous day. There was no mistaking it. As much as it seemed to make no sense, it felt akin in so many ways to what he felt whenever he was with her, but magnified to the -nth degree.

His eyes flickered open, his pupils dilating as the morning light shone into them, and something inside Zayne’s chest seemed to give, ever so slightly. The band around his ribcage eased as the memories dwindled, the last moments the hunter had experienced in the middle of the night, staring at the clock, dreading its advance, trickled through his thoughts and faded. Clenching his hands in the fabric of his pant legs, Zayne stared up at the high ceiling above him, his mind wandering through his own experiences of the past twenty-four hours, the ones he had spent in place of the hunter.

The familiar places in the old magazines.

The name, face, and info in the phone.

The medical drama on the TV.

The chocolates.

The jasmine.

The code on the door keypad…

Things began to click into place as Zayne thought back through the day he had spent in the hunter’s life and the items in the hunter’s tiny apartment, his mind spinning like a snowflake in a gale as neurons fired and connections were born inside his brain. Everything and nothing made sense. Right was up and left was down, backward was ahead and forward was behind. And yet…

Throughout all of his realizations, Zayne couldn’t shake off the memory of what the hunter had felt when seeing the woman, when she had touched his hand, or his cheek, or kissed him, or... It was exactly the same. The same as what he felt in those moments, but tinged with a lingering ache of longing and dread, a nameless shadow that haunted the entire day – the fear of losing a single moment, of being sent back.

It was the same love Zayne felt for her. He knew it without a shadow of a doubt, as certain as he knew that he loved her, as certain as the dawn breaking and the sun rising. The hunter loved her as he did. Because…

He and the hunter were the same. That was the only explanation for it, the only thing that tied all of it together, including the odd, seemingly out of place items the hunter kept in his apartment, the reason the hunter knew her birthday, the reason the hunter liked chocolates and jasmines and medical dramas and, and, and… The woman’s voice echoed through Zayne’s mind, the warmth and kindness and love within it apparent, even in memory.

But you’re still Zayne.

Because I love Zayne. And you – you’re Zayne.

I’d know you anywhere…

A deep, shuddering sigh left him then, Zayne’s shoulders slumping forward, his hands unclenching from his thighs and curling into loose fists atop them instead, his head bowing as his eyes closed. She had known. She had seen what he had not, what he had fought against realizing with every fiber of his being for the past day and night, perhaps longer. The hunter didn’t just have his face, and his name, and his likes and dislikes, his revulsion at killing, his fears, his anxieties... The love he felt for the woman in the next room. He had everything Zayne had. They were the same person, the same body, the same soul. She was right.

Part of him felt anguish at what he had seen in the memories of the past that he hadn’t lived, but that part was dwindling in the face of the realization he had made. It shrank in the face of the empathy he suddenly felt for the hunter – for the version of himself that was trapped, a world away, from the woman he loved. Zayne felt a burning sensation in his chest and the backs of his eyes at the thought of experiencing the same love he felt for her without the ability to have it reciprocated.

When he had been younger and Zayne’s feelings for her had been unrequited, when he had devoted his life and his career to cardiology, when he had focused everything on her, on taking care of her heart, on the woman that made his own heart sing – at least he had been able to dream of the day he would see her again. And it had happened. Against all odds, Zayne had found her again, and somehow, through some stroke of luck, through some miracle, she had loved him in return.

The hunter had none of that. None of the possibility, none of the hope, none of the joy of being loved in return. That Zayne, in whatever world or time or place, had none of that. Instead, he had a cold, empty, lifeless city fraught with danger and ever encroaching dread. It was too much to imagine, too much to bear. If the dreams had started for the hunter at the same time as they started for him… The thought of going not only months and years but over a decade without even the chance of having the love he felt returned made Zayne’s breath catch in his throat, the sound a barely stifled sob in the still air of the living room.

No wonder his apartment had been a mess. No wonder his refrigerator had held nothing but nutrient drinks. No wonder… Suddenly, Zayne realized that he could not fault the hunter for what he had done, for the day he had lived in his life, for the moments he had stolen with the woman he— The woman they loved. How could he?

To be given a chance like that, to be seen and known and loved, even just for one day… Zayne exhaled slowly, his hands lifting to cover his face as he shook his head. In his heart, Zayne knew he couldn’t have passed up such a chance either. Nor could he fault her. She had seen him, after all - seen what he could not, seen the same soul looking through the same eyes, seen the same love shining back at her. Zayne breathed in then, just as slowly, his heart rate beginning to steady, the trembling in his hands easing as his emotions calmed, but he stayed on his knees in the living room, not trusting himself to stand yet.

“Zayne?” A soft touch on his shoulder caused his head to jerk up, Zayne’s hands falling away from his face as he turned toward the source of the voice. Toward her. Always toward her. His eyes widened as he saw the woman kneeling beside him, her hand on his shoulder, her expression one of equal parts hope and worry.

“Darling…” Before he realized what he was doing, Zayne was pulling her into his arms, just as he had done when he had awoken, just as he had longed to do during every moment that he had spent in the nightmare that belonged to the other Zayne. The arctic tundra in his chest melted at her touch, the way it always did with her, as his arms wrapped around her, as he buried his face into her hair. He could feel her surprise at his sudden motion turn to relief in the way her arms came up around his neck, in the way she pressed close to him, in the way she nuzzled her face into the curve of his throat. “I’m here. I’m home.”

Finally. Home.

_______________________________________________ Tags: @callme-naomi @seris-the-amious @schnittled @punk-cat @criffininflight @justpassingdontworry

#love and deepspace #fanfiction #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #lads #the night we met #zayne #dawnbreaker fic #li shen #dawnbreaker #zayne fic #zayne fanfiction #zayne fanfic #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne li #doctor zayne #dr zayne

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atinymekanie · 13 days ago

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"We're living through the ongoing fascist collapse of the United States but I still gotta clean the kitchen and go to work tomorrow" sure is the mood right now, huh.

#fuck fascism #quote gandalf

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atinymekanie · 16 days ago

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How do I become like this person?!

Dame Archer kicks McDougal’s Scots ass there in the rain at the Washington Midsummer Renaissance Faire - August 11, 2018 - Photo by Douglas Herring

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atinymekanie · 19 days ago

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Thinking about how when the Oceangate sub imploded, the coastguard picked it up on their radar and knew from the moment it happened that everyone on board was already gone, and yet there was still a five day manhunt.

And how like a week before that, a refugee ship sank off the coast of Greece, whose officials knew this was happening and had ships within reach, but intentionally did nothing.

And how there was like the most expansive manhunt in recent history to find a suspect in the UHC shooting. In a city known for its unsolved crimes. How Briana Boston was arrested for a vaguely perceived threat to a CEO she wasn't even speaking to nor mentioned, while internet stalkers are never addressed unless they hurt someone, and then it's a maybe

And just how there is always money to perform for the rich, even when they can't actually be helped. And there is never money to help the poor, no matter how easy they would be to save.

And for some reason it's considered "dangerous and extreme" to want a world where our lives aren't just fodder at the whims of the rich.

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atinymekanie · 20 days ago

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The Night We Met - Chapter 20: To Be Seen

|| Premise: What if Dawnbreaker's wish for one day and one night with the woman who lives only in his dreams... came true? ||

The world disappeared for a moment then, leaving Zayne floating in a warm sea of delight, drifting through an ocean of contentment, one where his thoughts dispersed entirely for once, his brain quiet and still for the first time since he could remember. There was only her and the intense, mind-numbing wave of ecstasy that was quietly receding, ebbing from him like a sun-warmed tide on a summer’s day. Slowly, thoughts began to filter in from the edges of Zayne’s consciousness, disjointed ones that came and went quickly, like seals diving in and out of the waves.

If the shower had been heaven, then surely this was Elysium. Zayne’s mind was intoxicated with sensations he could barely process, drunk on her touch, her scent, inebriated with the feeling of her around him, above him – had he not already capsized, he would have been three sheets to the wind. Maybe four. Was that even a thing? Did it matter? Not a whit.

As thought returned to Zayne’s pleasure-drenched mind, so did the ability to process input from his senses, and he became aware of a weight on his chest, of soft hair brushing his face, and of the gentle, breathless sighs near his ear. Right. He hadn’t gone overboard alone – she had gone with him.

His eyes flickered open, the warm light from the bathroom causing the gold flecks in his irises to shine beneath his dark lashes as he gazed up at the ceiling, trying to put together a coherent sentence. Too many thoughts and worries suddenly clouded his once-clear mind, and the only thing he could focus on was the need to be sure he hadn’t hurt her or done something wrong.

“Are… Are you alright?” Zayne winced inwardly at the breathless sound of his own voice, at the stupidity of such a question, at the sheer ineptitude he felt wash over him suddenly, as he realized he had never once prepared for such a moment, let alone such a conversation. He was suddenly very aware of every place in which he was connected with her, from where her hands rested on his chest and in his hair, to where her body lay atop his own, to where…

“’M good…” The muffled, almost dreamy quality of the woman’s voice in his ear made Zayne shudder slightly. The sound of it so close, her breath fanning across his skin as she spoke, and the pure contentment in her voice made his heart, which had already been working overtime, nearly achieve lift-off. He felt her shift then, her hand exerting a gentle pressure against his chest as she raised her head, her next sentence taking him completely off-guard. “…Are you?”

Blinking up at her, Zayne was left dumbfounded at the tender concern inherent in her tone, as well as in her gaze as she stared down at him, the hand that had been in his hair suddenly moving to cup his cheek. His brow furrowed as he took in the slight smile that turned up the corners of her lips as she tilted her head, her hair drifting across his face as she did so.

Alright? Was he…alright??? She was asking if he was alright? There wasn’t a word to describe just how ‘alright’ everything felt. How he felt. How the world felt – as though, suddenly, he had a place in it. As though all was right with the world. Perhaps, ‘alright’ was the correct word, after all. So, Zayne just nodded, unable to stop the almost giddy smile that spread across his face in answer to her own.

He watched as her expression shifted, her concern turning into a genuine laugh as her eyes crinkled shut at the sight of his smile, and Zayne could feel his own expression shifting as well, his somewhat bashful laughter joining hers. His own eyes squeezed shut then, his hands lifting to slowly drift over the woman’s sides before carefully splaying out across her back. As their laughter faded, a deep sigh of contentment left him, and he felt her thumb brush over his cheek as her voice lilted in his ear.

“I’m glad,” she murmured, as she carefully slid off of him to lie beside him, a small sound escaping her at the loss of connection between them. Zayne felt the loss of her warmth acutely, his body shifting of its own accord as he rolled onto his side to face her, his arms encircling her, as though his skin couldn’t bear to be separated from hers.

To his surprise, Zayne felt the woman wrap her arms around him in return, pulling him toward her even more as she shifted back, allowing his head to rest on her chest. It was a reversal of everything he had seen in those old shows and films he watched, but Zayne couldn’t find it in himself to dislike it – in fact, an entirely different kind of warmth suffused him then. Not the warmth of arousal or desire, but the warmth that comes from belonging, from being cared for, from being… home.

Zayne’s arms curled around her as well, one of them sliding behind her head and the other curving around her torso as his head rested on her chest, feeling the way it rose and fell as she breathed. One of her hands came to rest in his hair, the other on his back, and his eyes closed as she threaded her fingers through the still-damp strands. Another quiet sigh left him then, as Zayne allowed himself, just for a moment, to soak in the warmth she offered, that she had given willingly and happily, to him.

Time passed then, although Zayne would never be sure how much time, as he basked in the gentle glow that seemed to cover them both. If only an Evol could freeze time. The few sounds in the room were those of their breathing and the quiet dripping of the shower in the nearby bathroom, almost like the hands of a clock ticking down. But Zayne couldn’t hear that over the blood thrumming in his ears and the steady rhythm of her heart that beat just beneath where he rested his head.

Without even really thinking about what he was doing, Zayne turned his head and pressed a kiss to her chest, just above where her heart lay, as he tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. His eyes only fluttered open when he felt her hand trace over his face, her fingertips trailing along his cheekbone and then down the bridge of his nose.

“What was that for?” Her voice was soft and inquisitive, a kind of quiet innocence in it that was somewhat at odds with her previous actions, but Zayne found it incredibly endearing. His gaze lifted to hers as he pushed himself up slightly, supporting himself on his elbows as he found the words to explain why he had kissed her heart. Or tried to, at least. But how did he explain that he would have curled up and lived inside her heart if she let him?

“For…” Zayne knew he had to try, though, that he couldn’t just not answer her, and so he wracked his brain for an explanation that didn’t sound patently insane and came up with exactly nothing. Because there was nothing sane about how much he loved the woman in front of him. So, he settled on the only word that encompassed the depth of what he felt for her, that encapsulated what she was to him. “…everything.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, from the auroras that whirled in his gaze to the small furrow between his brows as he spoke, to the way his damp hair fell over his forehead and almost into his eyes, as a fond smile drifted across her own face. She could tell from his tone that he wasn’t just saying this idly, and her chest constricted at the emotions she could see swirling in his eyes and playing across his face. Her hand lifted, brushing aside the hair that had fallen across his forehead, and then she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position.

Zayne saw her start to move, and he also sat up, the crease in his brow deepening with concern for a moment, before her hands came up to cradle his face, her smile lighting her eyes as she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. Perhaps she understood, after all. His hands lifted as well, coming up to brush along her forearms, and they both stayed that way for a moment, her thumbs smoothing over his cheeks. Next, she kissed the tip of his nose, then his lips, the kiss sweet and lingering before she pulled back slightly.

The furrow in his brow eased as Zayne saw her smiling at him, and his hands slid down her forearms as he smiled back, his expression earnest in its simplicity. He watched as she slid off the bed and stood up, her hands sliding down his arms to take his hands, and when she squeezed them, he returned the gesture.

“I’ll be right back, alright?” Her voice lilted gently as she smiled at him, and Zayne nodded somewhat shakily, trying not to show just how much he didn’t want to separate from her yet. His fingertips slid along hers as she turned, keeping the connection with her until the last moment, when the woman stepped away and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

…

……

………WHOA.

Running his hand through his damp hair, Zayne stared at the bathroom door for a moment, his mind struggling to process everything that had just happened. If it had all been a dream, surely, he would have woken up before this point. Right? And yet, he was still here. Which meant… It was real. Zayne glanced down at himself as he sat on the bed, his eyes unseeing for a moment, his brain reeling at the events of the day, let alone the past hour. Slowly, he began to take stock of himself and the rather sticky situation he found himself in, realizing now why she must have gotten up.

Before he could contemplate further, Zayne heard the bathroom door open and looked up to see her moving over to him. She was now wearing a soft bathrobe and carrying a warm, damp washcloth that she handed to him with a smile, before gesturing to the bathroom. “All yours, Zaynie.”

“I—” Zayne felt his brain flood with warmth at the use of the nickname, and he knew his face had flushed as well by the sparkle in her eyes and the heat that rose to his cheeks. Whatever he had been going to say was lost, but he managed to take the offered washcloth with a stammered thanks before also disappearing into the bathroom.

The woman gazed after him for a moment, trying to keep the mirth from her face at the sweet, almost sheepish look on his face, before she turned to finish getting ready for bed. Her gaze landed on the alarm clock on the nightstand, and then it was no longer a struggle to hide her amusement, her smile fading as she realized how late it had become – 23:38. Her eyes flicked back over to the bathroom, her heart sinking slightly as she drew in a breath, then let it out slowly as she returned to finding both her pajamas and Zayne’s.

She knocked on the bathroom door a moment or two later and passed him the set of comfy, light grey pajamas she knew he liked the most, and then finished putting on her own before grabbing two glasses of water – one for herself and one for him. As she was walking back to the bedroom, Zayne stepped out of the bathroom, and she handed him one of the glasses of water with a smile, slipping past him and into the bedroom.

Zayne took the glass of water wordlessly, his mind still trying to catch up to what all had happened. Even the time in the bathroom hadn’t been enough for him to really make sense of it all. Would there ever be a time when any of it made sense? Probably not. And just maybe, he was fine with that. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, as they say. Taking a sip from the glass, Zayne stood just outside the bathroom door, noticing that the woman had already climbed into bed and made herself comfy, the lamp on the bedside table on and casting a warm glow across the covers that she had slipped under.

He made no move to go to her, his gaze suddenly flicking to the door that led out to the living area, and then down at the glass of water in his hand. Zayne stared down at his reflection in the water, the familiar features distorted by the circular shape of the glass.

Despite the events of the past hour or so, a small sliver of doubt curled inside his chest, like ice shavings in a drink. Would she want him sleeping beside her, now that she knew…everything? Sure, they had woken up that way, but neither of them had made that choice. They had spent the day together, yes, and even enjoyed quite a bit more than just the pleasure of each other’s company, and yet… Zayne couldn’t quite shake the fear that had started to slither up his spine. The fear that—

A soft rustling sound roused Zayne from his self-deprecating thoughts, his gaze lifting almost guiltily from the glass of water in his hand to meet her eyes as she looked over at him. The woman had lifted the covers on the empty side of the bed, tossing them back slightly, her hand resting on the mattress as she patted it gently.

“Y’know, I’ve said this before… You really are like a cat,” she quipped, her eyes twinkling slightly as she smiled at him. “Well…come to think of it, you probably don’t know that I’ve said that. But it’s true.” She shrugged, one shoulder lifting as she held his gaze, her hand still resting on the bed, a reminder of her beckoning him over.

“A cat?” His eyebrow raised as he padded hesitantly over to the bed, taking another sip of water before setting the glass down on the nightstand on that side of the bed. Zayne watched as she moved her hand, then he gingerly sat down, leaned back against the headboard, and pulled the covers up over his legs, looking over at her quizzically.

The woman had to stifle a laugh at the almost indignant expression on Zayne’s face, and she turned toward him a little more, raising a hand and smoothing out the little line above his eyebrow. “Yes.” Her hand drifted then, caressing his cheek lightly before dropping into her lap. “You take a while to warm up to people, and many who don’t know you might think you’re cold, or indifferent.” She reached out and took his hand, scooting a little closer to him. “You keep most people at arm’s length, but…” The woman lifted his hand to her cheek, tilting her face into his palm. “Like a cat, it just takes a little time to get to know you. To see the kindness you keep hidden underneath, the care you take with the ones you…love.”

Zayne stared at her, his heart thumping loudly in his chest, her words ringing perhaps a little truer than he wanted to admit. But nonetheless, he dipped his head slightly in agreement, a rueful smile curving the corners of his lips ever so slightly. She wasn’t wrong. Not about how he behaved, nor about the love he held for her. Nothing could be truer, in that regard. He brushed his thumb across her cheek gently, the movement holding everything he didn’t know how to say.

“I guess I just wanted to say… I’m glad I got to see…you,” she whispered, her voice wavering ever so slightly as she spoke, her eyes meeting his once more. Zayne’s breath caught in his chest, his heart swelling with a multitude of emotions as his eyes closed. He stayed that way for a moment, trying to make his voice steady enough to respond, when suddenly he felt the mattress dip, and felt her shifting beside him.

Opening his eyes, Zayne looked down to see that her head had come to rest on his chest, and he watched as her arm snaked over his torso and around his side. His vision blurred slightly, but he blinked it clear again and lifted his right hand to place it gently on the woman’s back. Beneath his hand, Zayne felt the woman’s back rise and fall as she inhaled deeply and then exhaled, sighing softly as she seemed almost to nestle into him. The fear he had felt before when standing in the doorway melted away completely, as a kind of knowing seemed to settle into him at the sight of her curled up against him. The trust she was showing in him made the slivers of ice melt, replacing them with a warm glow reminiscent of the way her Evol felt.

Slowly, Zayne leaned his head back against the headboard, not wanting to break the moment that she had created by saying or doing something wrong. He would have given anything for that moment to stretch into eternity, to never have to return to where he had come from, and to stay forever basking in the light and trust and love the woman in his arms provided. Zayne wracked his brain for a way to tell her this, to express everything he felt for her, but in the end, he only managed one sentence.

“Thank you…for seeing me.” The words echoed softly in the quiet of the bedroom, Zayne’s voice thick with all the emotion he didn’t know how to properly explain. He glanced down, his hand smoothing carefully over her back, his touch cool through the fabric of her sleep shirt, feeling her slow, rhythmic breathing.

“…Always.” The woman’s sleepy voice floated up to him then, and Zayne couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he watched her slowly drift into sleep. Always. No matter what happened, no matter where he went, she would always see him. That…was more than enough. Zayne tilted his head back once more, his eyes closing as he sought to memorize the way everything felt at that very moment – her head on his chest, her arm around him, the soft sound of her breathing, and the warmth of her against him.

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2:19. After a long while, Zayne had shifted enough to reach over and turn off the bedside lamp, praying he didn’t wake her in the process. His back and neck had begun to ache from the position he sat in against the headboard, but he had been too worried about waking her to move. Thankfully, she had only shifted, snuggling down into the covers and more against his side.

Slowly and carefully, Zayne also slid down under the covers, his arm coming up around her cautiously, his breath held as he gently pulled her into his chest. A deep sigh left him then, one of both contentment and resignation, as he gazed at the alarm clock on the nightstand, its soft blue dots between the numbers blinking as the seconds passed.

_________________________________

5:48. His right arm had fallen asleep at some point, and his eyes were going scratchy, but Zayne didn’t mind. Take the arm. He would have traded it at that point, if only whatever it was that had brought him there would let him stay. The eyes, too, if that was what it cost. As gently as he could, Zayne pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead, his eyes stinging slightly as he squeezed them shut. On some nights, he was used to insomnia, to not being able to sleep for the thoughts running through his mind, and on other days, he was used to the way he could barely drag himself out of sleep, his mind taking solace in oblivion.

But now Zayne was fighting a battle he hadn’t known existed – his body was begging him to sleep, but his mind and his heart were fighting it with everything they had. His eyes opened again, and for the thousandth time in the past six hours or so, he did his best to memorize every single thing he could, even the way her hair felt as it brushed across his neck, tickling ever so slightly. Reluctantly, Zayne’s gaze returned to the clock on the nightstand, the numbers blurring as he fought against the weight of his eyelids.

__________________________________

7:36. At some point, soft light had begun to creep in through the windows, and Zayne had watched the way it slowly illuminated the face of the woman sleeping in his arms. The way her eyelashes rested gently against her cheeks, the way her hair fell across her forehead, and the way her lips curved slightly as she dreamed whatever it was she was dreaming about.

His eyelids had grown too heavy for him to ignore, and it was all he could do to keep from falling into a half-sleep every time they closed. And every time, Zayne dragged himself from it as quickly as he could, praying for another moment in her arms, another moment in the peace and comfort she brought to him. His head had fallen onto the pillow beside hers, his dark hair mingling with her hair as his forehead came to rest against hers.

_________________________________

7:37. Zayne’s eyes fluttered shut, her sleeping face emblazoned upon his memory like a seal upon wax, as his mind succumbed to the weight of the exhaustion that he had fought for so long. As sleep carried him away on its current, a gentle smile also curved his lips, and the soft morning light stole slowly across his features.

____________________________________________

Tags: @callme-naomi @seris-the-amious @schnittled @punk-cat @criffininflight @justpassingdontworry

#love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #the night we met #dawnbreaker fic #fanfiction #zayne #lads #li shen #dawnbreaker #zayne fanfiction #zayne fanfic #zayne fic #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne

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atinymekanie · 26 days ago

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These two are PRECIOUS. Protect them at all costs. That IS a real rooster! You tell ‘em! 😤

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atinymekanie · 26 days ago

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The Night We Met - Chapter 19: A Heart Given Wings

|| Premise: What if Dawnbreaker's wish for one day and one night with the woman who lives only in his dreams... came true? ||

-------------Includes 18+ Content---------------

Could a heart beat too fast? There was a name for that, wasn’t there? Zayne stared at the bottle of bodywash in the woman’s hand, hardly registering the fact that he had spoken, let alone accepted her offer. Something-cardia. Right? The doctor would know. But the doctor wasn’t here. Zayne vaguely realized that he needed to do something other than stand in the deluge of hot water, staring at her like a man watching a collision in slow motion, as that was about how the two halves of his brain felt at the moment – like they were trains rushing at each other down a track with no rail switches.

Cautiously, Zayne reached out his hand and took the bodywash from her, his cheeks feeling almost as warm as the water rushing down over him. He stared at the bottle for a moment, then up at the small shelf higher up on the wall that held all the hygiene products. His gaze fell on a rather feminine-looking shampoo bottle, and Zayne watched it warily for a moment, as if it might bite him when he looked away, then dropped his gaze back to the bottle in his hand. Maybe don’t start with the bodywash. Maybe then his heart wouldn’t feel like it was about to give out. Maybe then he would live through the next few moments, or at least long enough to enjoy whatever was happening for a little while longer.

That would be good. Surely his heart wouldn’t combust inside his chest from touching her hair. He could work up to touching…other parts of her, this way. Like her shoulder, maybe. Or lower. Zayne slowly lifted his gaze to meet the woman’s, his ears feeling like they were emitting steam from how hot they felt, and then carefully set the bodywash back on the shelf and reached for the shampoo instead. It was just hair. Wasn’t it? It was just a shower. Wasn’t it?

When Zayne had accepted the proffered bodywash, the woman couldn’t help the small surge of happiness that flooded through her. That surge was short-lived, however, as she then watched him put the bottle back on the shelf, despite his statement of acceptance. Her brow furrowed slightly until she saw his hand reach for the shampoo bottle instead. A small smile turned up the corners of her lips as she realized what he meant to do, and then she stepped forward, wetting her hair thoroughly beneath the water.

Zayne’s heart had sunk when he saw her confusion, but when her expression changed quickly to a smile, he could have sworn it grew wings. He watched as she wet her hair and then turned to face away from him, tossing him another encouraging smile as she did so, one that had his heart fluttering in his chest. Squeezing out some of the shampoo into his hand, Zayne suddenly wondered if he had ever washed hair in his life. Wait. Of course, he had – he had hair. Placing the bottle back on the shelf, he lathered the shampoo between his hands and stepped forward, sliding his hands into her hair before his courage gave out completely.

Half expecting her to jump in surprise at his touch, Zayne froze once his hands were in her hair, his eyes widening. But then she tilted her head back, and as he gazed down at her face, he caught sight of her smile again. The gentle, relaxed expression on her face eased some of the tension that had crept into his shoulders, and ever so slowly, Zayne began to massage the shampoo into her hair. His heart was still in his throat as he did so, the wings her smile had given it causing it to rise precariously high, but he ignored that as best he could and continued.

While he worked the shampoo through her hair, Zayne made sure to gather the longer locks up in his scarred hands, praying that she couldn’t feel how badly his hands were shaking, but who was he fooling? Of course, she could. He could see her face from his vantage point behind her, due to his height, and his gaze never left it, watching every micro expression that crossed it – waiting for the moment she objected, for the moment her brow furrowed in pain or discomfort, for the moment she realized that he was clumsy and uncoordinated, for the moment she realized that he had no idea how to touch her.

But it never came. To Zayne’s surprise and internal elation, he was eventually forced to let go of the breath he was holding, her face showing no signs of discomfort or fear or anything negative. In fact, she seemed…relaxed, like she was enjoying his touch. Could that be true? His hands continued to move gently through her hair, swapping between massaging her scalp as she had done his, and making sure the shampoo was lathered evenly throughout it. Zayne slowly drew in a breath as he watched her eyelashes flutter and a soft sigh escape her, and for a moment, he thought his heart would escape right out of his mouth. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying his touch.

A surge of warmth ran through him at the realization and the sound of her quiet sigh, and Zayne did his best to ignore it, to force it out of his thoughts. He had been doing so well, too. At least for the past few minutes. He tried to focus on the task at hand, his gaze running over her hair as his fingers gently worked through it, and he realized that there was nothing left for him to do but rinse out the suds. Reaching up, Zayne found the detachable showerhead and turned it on, making sure his hands were completely free of suds before gently shielding her eyes with one large palm as he carefully began to rinse her hair.

The woman’s relaxed smile of enjoyment grew into one of pure affection as she felt him shield her eyes, just as she had done for him, her chest squeezing with both appreciation and gratitude for how gentle and conscientious he was being with her. Despite his hands shaking. While she didn’t know his full life circumstances, she could make a few educated guesses based on what he had told her about where he came from, and the conclusions she ended up with were anything but gentle. And yet, he was nothing if not gentle. Her thoughts drifted as she felt him rinse out her hair, her mind mulling over what she knew of him.

As he finished rinsing her hair, Zayne stepped back and hung up the detachable showerhead, waiting for her to turn around, but she didn’t immediately do so. Was she alright? Had he hurt her? Nonono. Worry shot through him, despite the arousal he had been feeling just a moment or two prior. He lifted one arm, brushing a hand gently against her shoulder, his fingertips barely grazing her skin, but the touch sent electricity skittering through his veins, nonetheless.

When she turned at his touch, Zayne couldn’t place the emotion in her gaze, but she seemed to be staring right through him. Or perhaps, right through the body he was in. As if she were trying to see him. Look away. Now! No matter how much his mind implored him, Zayne found he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her – it was almost as if she could see all of him, laid out before her, his heart more naked than his body was at the moment. His guilt, his desire, his loneliness, his love – all of it seemed suddenly exposed to her view, and he felt an icy cold fear flood through him, knowing there was no way she couldn’t see all of it.

Rooted to the spot, the water cascading over him, Zayne could only watch as she moved toward him through the water as it rained down, the heat from it hardly touching the winter in his limbs and in his soul. If he had thought she knew before, he was sure of it now – and not just that she didn’t exist for him, normally, but everything. She knew everything. It was written plain on his face and in the way he responded to her – the fact that he wanted her more than he needed air; the fact that he loved her. How could she not know, at this point? He managed to close his eyes then, his hands clenching into fists, his helplessness at the situation stinging like an open wound beneath the water.

Zayne felt soft hands slide over his ribs then, fingertips drifting over his lats and up his back, palms splaying out over his shoulder blades as even softer skin pressed against his chest, gentle curves and dips aligning with the ridges and planes of his musculature.

For a moment, time stood still, the universe holding its breath, waiting on an exhale. And then her head came to rest against his chest, her wet hair sliding against his pectorals and sticking to his skin, plastered there by the water sluicing over them. Zayne felt her chest expand against his, felt her drawing in a deep breath and then slowly releasing it… And suddenly so was he, the breath he and the universe had been holding rushing from him in a torrent, his fear and his anxiety mixing with the water as it rushed down the drain.

What…was happening? Zayne wasn’t sure what he had expected her to do, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. His heart’s wings had become those of a hummingbird, what with how fast they were beating, how near-constant the sound of it was in his ears, as he slowly raised his own arms, encircling her carefully. Dimly, Zayne wondered who was moving his arms, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His arms enfolded her gently, one of his hands coming to rest on the small of her back and the other wrapping around her shoulders as he cautiously pulled her into him, his cheek coming to rest atop her head.

As she felt Zayne’s arms begin to come up around her, the woman closed her eyes, her smile returning as he embraced her, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in her ear as it pressed to his chest. His heart was beating so fast. For some reason, that was more endearing than it had any right to be, and she gently squeezed him a little tighter, almost reflexively. In response, she felt his fingers curl against her back, his fingertips pressing into her skin, and the hand that had curved around her upper arm tightened as well, as a shudder seemed to pass through him.

She didn’t move, though she could feel the way he shook, the way Zayne’s body seemed to tremble as he all but clutched her against him, the way one might hold onto a life preserver – if that life preserver were also somehow made of glass. The reverence in his touch, even as he fell apart in her arms, was something she knew she would never forget, no matter how long she lived.

Her hands pressed into his back then, holding him just as tightly, almost as if she were trying to hold him together with her touch alone. Maybe she could. At least, she could try. She felt another shudder run through him, felt the way his chest heaved suddenly, and she tightened her arms around him even further. She didn’t truly know what he faced every day, but she knew that all too soon he would be returned to it – to a world devoid of love, and almost devoid of life. But for now? For today? He was home. And she would be damned if she wasn’t going to show him that.

Zayne had kept his eyes shut, and part of him was glad he had – it kept the tears he felt stinging his eyes at bay. But then her arms had squeezed him gently, her embrace tightening almost imperceptibly, and the dam he had shored up time and time again, year after year, broke open. It happened without warning, without alarms, without any fanfare whatsoever. The prickling in the backs of Zayne’s eyes grew, and suddenly tears were coursing down his cheeks, and he wasn’t sure if they were tears of sadness, joy, grief, love, pain, or which emotion under the sun – maybe all of them. He was just glad the shower was there to hide them. His arms had curled about her more tightly, his hands pressing into her, and it was all he could do not to cling to her like a man drowning, but he managed it somehow, keeping his touch as soft as he was able at the present moment.

The woman wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, beneath the warm water, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she was glad that the house had a large water heater – there was no way she was going to be the first to break the embrace. She held him until his hands relinquished their grip, until the small shudders that ran through him stopped, until his heartbeat no longer galloped beneath her ear. She held him until the slightly hiccupping breaths the shower sounds mostly masked ceased, until she felt him lift his cheek away from the top of her head, until his hands began to slide from her back. Only then did she lift her head, only then did she smile up at Zayne, putting as much love and affection into her gaze and expression as she could, as if she could beam it into him through a look alone.

When the torrent of emotions running through him had finally calmed, Zayne slowly lifted his head from where his cheek had rested on the crown of her head, his hands slowly unfurling from where they had held her, the way petals open as a flower blooms. One last shuddering breath left him as he watched her gaze lift to meet his, her smile like that of the dawn sun rising, the love shining from it warming him in a way no sunrise ever had. Or ever would. Zayne felt his own lips curve in an answering smile, a gentle joy at the sight of her smile and the feel of her in his arms washing through him.

He watched as she tilted her head slightly, her gaze flitting from his to the bottle of bodywash he had set down previously, her expression softly encouraging but not demanding as she stepped back out of the stream of water, her hands trailing along his sides. Zayne finally answered the question he had asked earlier as his hand reached for the bottle – did he deserve heaven? Maybe not, but he was already there. Might as well make the most of his time.

The bottle of bodywash was more slippery than he had expected, and as Zayne took it down from the shelf, he almost dropped it. Before it could fall, he felt her hands come up, one of hers closing over his larger hand as it encircled the bottle, her other taking his free hand and turning it palm up. He moved almost as if in a trance then, squeezing some of the bodywash into his palm and following her hand with his eyes as the woman took the bottle from him and set it aside, her hand returning to his, guiding his hands together.

Zayne took the hint, forming the bodywash into a sudsy lather that covered his scarred hands, and then suddenly her hands were again guiding his, this time taking them and placing them on her decolletage, his large hands splaying out as she pressed them to her skin. His gaze lifted from their hands, where they rested just beneath her collarbones, up to her face. OH. This was not a drill. Both words and thoughts failed Zayne for a moment, until she dipped her head in a slight nod, a simple gesture of reassurance as she spoke.

“Breathe, Zayne,” she murmured, the woman’s voice soft and kind, a slight lilt akin to teasing edging the ends of her words as her hands lifted from his, and his lungs responded to her command. Zayne inhaled slowly, oxygen flooding his starved brainstem, and purpose returned to his muscles. All of his muscles. Perhaps a little too much purpose. His cheeks flushed as his hands began to move – up over her shoulders, down her upper arms and back again. Both his hands then moved to her right arm, carefully lathering down her bicep and then her forearm, raising her hand as he did so.

Sliding one hand along her forearm, Zayne realized her hand was hovering in front of his face, and without thinking about it, he pressed his lips to the back of her knuckles, his brain only catching up to what he had done when his gaze flicked down. She would never buy that that was an accident. Would she? Zayne lifted his gaze to hers then, as he realized that she hadn’t pulled her hand back. She was watching him with a fond, gentle smile that was almost a smirk, and his brow furrowed slightly at seeing her expression. Whew. At least she hadn’t taken offense at his unthinking gesture of affection. That was something.

Resuming his task, Zayne moved to her other arm, the hummingbird that was now his heart beating its wings a million miles a minute. As his hands made their way down her arm, lathering every bit of her smooth skin, his gaze dropped to her other hand. She hadn’t minded the first time… Zayne quickly pressed a kiss to the knuckles of her left hand, his cheeks burning with the knowledge that it had been intentional this time, and his gaze lifted to meet hers, almost afraid to see her reaction.

He needn’t have been – her smile had only grown, if anything, as she watched him, enjoying the thorough, gentle way Zayne always cared for her, and the endearing way his cheeks flushed during moments like these. His hands touched her in the way a sculptor touches clay, the way a florist tends blossoms, and the way an artisan handles jade. With a care bordering on reverence. A care that only Zayne had ever shown her before.

The sight of her smile growing made Zayne’s chest feel like it was going to burst, warmth swelling there and spreading throughout him once more, and he dipped his head to drop his gaze as his hands left her arm, retrieving more bodywash before they returned. This time, Zayne stepped a little closer and knelt before her, his hands settling on her hips, moving in circles as he relished the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips, something he had only ever been able to watch from afar. Until now. Hardly daring to breathe, his hands worked ever higher, over her waist and ribs, faltering as they almost brushed the curves of her breasts, his gaze darting up to hers for permission before daring to touch such a place.

But the woman only smiled down at him and nodded, her hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as Zayne gazed up at her, hardly noticing the water as it rained down around his head and chest, the droplets running over his skin and dripping from his jawline. With an almost clinical precision, his hands slid higher, first his fingertips and then his palms sliding over the swells of her chest. He closed his eyes, his throat moving visibly as he swallowed, his hands mapping her curves, trembling as they pressed gently into her skin, the suds dripping down his forearms.

Silk? Satin? A jasmine’s petals? No. None of those were accurate enough. None of those words captured the way her skin felt beneath Zayne’s fingertips, but he memorized the sensation all the same, his eyes flickering open then. Almost hypnotized by the image before him, his fingertips traced along the outer curves of her breasts, his palms following suit soon after, as he forced his hands to slide around her sides then, smoothing over her back, bringing the suds with them as he did so.

His gaze lifted to hers as his hands roamed up the expanse of her back, again moving in slow circles up over her shoulder blades, and the woman stepped a little further into the circle of his arms, making Zayne’s eyes widen at her proximity. A silken touch on his cheek made him startle slightly, his gaze darting to the left to see that her hand had risen, her fingertips tracing over his cheekbone. Eyelashes fluttering, Zayne tilted his head into her touch, as his hands traced down her sides and back up again, his fingers pressing into the muscles of her back.

Slowly, in the way that an icicle melts, Zayne felt the worry in his chest ease as her hand slid up into his dark hair, brushing the wet strands out of his eyes as she stepped even closer. He felt her other hand come up as well, drifting along his jawline as his hands slipped unconsciously back down, his mind floating in the pleasure of her touch on his face and her skin beneath his hands. Zayne didn’t see it, but the woman’s lips curved as his head came to rest against her chest, her fingers carding through his hair as his hands came to rest on her hips.

Thump thump. What… Oh! Zayne’s eyes opened suddenly, as he realized the half-sound, half-sensation he heard and felt was her heartbeat beneath his ear, the soft skin his cheek was pressed against was her bosom, and the warm flesh beneath his hands was her… OH. His head jerked up, his face tilting up toward hers as his hands lifted from the curve of her rear, his eyes wide, only to see her lips part in a soft laugh.

“It’s okay… I promise,” the woman said, her voice tender as her hands came to cup his face, a hint of her quiet laughter in her voice and her smile. Was she…teasing? Zayne’s hands cautiously lowered once more, settling slowly on her hips, and something inside him possessed him to speak, echoing her words from before.

“I suppose… It needs washing, too, right?” Though his voice was barely above a whisper, Zayne managed to inject the slightest bit of teasing into his tone, his volume wavering only slightly as he spoke. The way her face lit up as she nodded, the laughter that sprang from her in response to his hesitant teasing, made Zayne’s heart soar, right out of his throat and up into her eyes, to bask in the sparkle there. He didn’t care if it lived there now. Or if it never came back. His heart had always belonged to her, anyway.

Carefully at first, as though he were in danger of melting from her touch, Zayne ran his hands over the curves of her hips and then over her glutes, down the backs of her thighs and around, the suds on his hands slowly disappearing. He saw her gaze drift down to where his hands now slid up the outsides of her thighs, and saw that there were almost no bubbles left, his brow furrowing. Need more soap. But… That would mean… Zayne’s fingers twitched, his hands pausing as he struggled to convince himself to lift them from her skin, when he caught sight of her hand moving. He watched as she took down the bodywash and reached for just one of his hands, gently turning it palm up and depositing more in his palm, then repeating the action for his other hand.

“There. Better?” She was definitely teasing, now. Zayne’s reddening ears took in her words, the slight inflection in her tone, and it was all he could do not to lift his gaze to hers, knowing that if he did, he would be lost in the smirk that curved her lips. He kept his gaze on his hands, sitting back as they slid down her right thigh to her calf, and he watched as she lifted her foot and placed it on his upraised knee, as though it belonged there. Perhaps it did.

Zayne certainly wasn’t going to complain. His fingertips traced along the outsides of her calf, his large palms then pressing to the back of it, kneading tentatively at the muscle there as he spread the suds across her skin. A soft sound drifted to him, and he dared a glance up, the sight above him leaving him openmouthed – the woman’s eyes had closed, her lips parted in a sweet smile as a voiced sigh escaped her, the warmth and pressure from his hands massaging her calf drawing the quiet sound from her.

His body responded without his permission, and Zayne fought to keep his hands from tightening their grip on her calf as heat rushed southward for the umpteenth time in the past twenty or so minutes. He shook his head slightly, almost as if to rid himself of the thoughts that were creeping in along the edges of his mind. Zayne then set her foot down carefully and reached for her left leg, trying not to think about what lay at the apex of said leg, his gaze remaining on her calf and where his hands carefully pressed against her skin, and certainly not where his hands wanted to press against her skin. Certainly not there.

But eventually Zayne’s hands rose, sliding up her shin and over her knee, drifting along the inside and outside of her thigh, cautiously spreading the suds across her skin, his mind narrowing to a tunnel as he forced himself to focus on kneading gently at the muscle of her thigh. Even the touch of her hands on his shoulders did little to draw Zayne’s thoughts from where they were spiraling, from the heat that had risen inside him as his fingers traced closer to where her thighs met. He leaned forward, his eyes closing as he fought to stem the thoughts running through his mind, and suddenly his lips were on her skin, kissing the top of her thigh, the movements of his shaking hands paused, one hand on either side of her thigh.

“Zayne?” Her voice startled Zayne from the collision course his mind had decided to send him on, and his gaze lifted, almost guiltily, his throat bobbing as he did so, knowing that she would be able to see the desire in his eyes. She could see through him in a way no one else could. Ever since the first time she saw him, through the doctor’s eyes, long ago.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t—” Stammering an apology, Zayne met her gaze only for her finger to press to his lips, stopping him from continuing. Her eyes held nothing but love and affection, mirroring the emotions he felt for her. Wait. Mirroring. Did that mean… Zayne’s eyes widened as he did what could only be called a double-take, his mouth falling open as he saw a simmering heat in her irises, mirroring his own. Words failed him as he watched her remove her foot from his knee and lean forward, bending down to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Zayne would never know what made him do what he did next – his mind clearly wasn’t functioning at full capacity – but he tilted his head back, his nose brushing hers as he did so, changing the trajectory of the incoming kiss. The water that would have rained down onto his face was blocked by her as she hovered above him, her lips less than an inch from his, her hands still resting on his shoulders as he knelt before her. His eyelids fluttered as water dripped down her cheek onto his face, but he remained unmoving, his breath held, his hands hovering at her hips.

And then she kissed him.

The brush of her lips on his was like snow landing on the petals of a jasmine, barely there yet sending frost spreading outward from where it landed. But instead of frost, warmth bloomed in its place, rivers of flame igniting in Zayne’s blood at the touch of her lips on his.

It was… Everything. Everything he had ever thought it would be, and more. Zayne’s eyes closed, his hands coming to rest haltingly on her hips as he returned the kiss, a small sound of surprise and need escaping him as he did so.

The soft sound he made caused heat to curl inside her in response, her hands rising to cradle Zayne’s cheeks as the kiss deepened, his hands on her hips pulling her closer unconsciously. She could tell from the tentative way he kissed her that he likely had little experience, but the realization did nothing more than endear him to her further. Lowering her hands to his shoulders, she slid them down his arms to where his hands rested on her hips, her fingers curling around them and intertwining as she stepped back, breaking the kiss.

Zayne stared up at her, the water cascading over him distinctly cooler after their time in the shower, his chest heaving from both the suddenness of the kiss and its ending. His eyes widened with worry at what had just happened, but as she tugged at his hands, it dawned on him that she wanted him to stand. Following her silent request, Zayne rose from where he knelt on the tile, hardly noticing the ache in his knee where it had pressed into the hard floor of the shower, and watched, almost dumbfounded, as she reached past him to turn off the water.

The woman brushed against him as she did so, the curves of her chest brushing along the planes of his, causing Zayne to suck in a breath at the sensation. In the now silent shower, the sound of his gasp caused her to look up at him as she straightened up, her hands returning to his as she tipped her head toward the shower door with a smile, indicating for him to open it.

Wait. Was it over? Was that the end? Zayne closed his eyes, forcing down the myriad emotions swarming through him. Just be thankful she didn’t leave. He turned toward the shower door, away from the woman, and slid it open, stepping out into the cooler air of the bathroom. Just be thankful that any of this happened. Reaching for one of the towels with a shaking hand, Zayne began to dry himself off, berating himself mentally for even daring to think that something else would happen. She had said ‘just a shower’.

Suppressing a groan at his own stupidity, Zayne threw the towel up over his face and head, beginning to towel off his short, dark hair. Nothing more. He scrubbed the towel over his face, almost as if he could rub away the guilt he felt at wanting more from her, from the woman he loved but knew he could never have. This will have to be enough. But even as the words flashed through his mind, Zayne couldn’t help the way his body thrummed at the thought of his hands on her hips, her lips on his, her skin against his like fire against ice.

A hand on his back interrupted his less than appropriate thoughts, and Zayne let the towel fall away from his face, turning to look back at her over his shoulder. She had toweled off as well, her damp hair falling over her chest and across her—Dammit. He averted his gaze quickly, the flush in his cheeks rising along with another part of him, and Zayne fought the urge to bury his face into the towel once more.

Before he lost the battle, the woman’s hands came up and took the towel from him, hanging it on a hook, then turning back to him with that same smile, the one that stole his breath, that looked like it felt like velvet were she to press her lips to—Fuck. Now there was no towel to hide his face in, and Zayne could do nothing but stare at her as she took one of his hands in hers and lifted it to her cheek, stepping toward him as she did so.

“Wh-what… What are you…” His brow furrowed as the words left him in a strained whisper, her cheek warm against his palm and her body entirely too close to his for comfort. Or not close enough. Shit. Zayne squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control whatever monster had taken over his mind, to rein in the thoughts that seemed bent on destroying whatever sanity he had left. The touch of her hand on his cheek made his eyes snap open, his gaze finding hers easily, given that she was suddenly much closer than she had been just a second ago.

“Zayne…” Her voice was very soft, not much louder than his had been, but the sound of his name on her lips, spoken for him, resounded in his ears, almost echoing in the enclosed space of the bathroom. Zayne felt her thumb brush across his cheek as she continued. “If you...want this, it’s alright.” His gaze searched hers, confusion evident in his eyes.

“But…” Zayne trailed off as her thumb gently slid across his bottom lip. There was no denying that he wanted this, wanted her, but the very idea that she could want him in return, in the same way, made little sense, not when she had the doctor. How could a hunter, a killer, ever measure up to a doctor? The words died on his lips as she spoke once more, and Zayne remained silent, his heart in his throat.

“Remember what I said before?” Zayne was close enough to see her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiled.

“You’re still Zayne.” Zayne was close enough to feel her breath against his skin as her lips parted.

“So, if you want this...want me… Then it’s alright.” Zayne was close enough to see the way her eyes seemed to be lit from within as she gazed up at him.

“Because I love Zayne. And you - you’re Zayne.” Zayne was close enough now that he could feel her lips brushing his as she spoke.

“I’d know you anywhere…” Zayne was close enough now to kiss her.

Soft at first, hesitant to the point of being timid, but kiss her he did, his lips pressing gently to hers as his hand cradled her cheek, drawing her face ever so slightly closer. As he kissed her, the words she had spoken crashed over him, the realization of what she had said sinking in as he sank into the kiss. She loved Zayne. And she saw him as Zayne. Not just the doctor. That meant…

Suddenly, Zayne’s kiss became less hesitant, his other hand sliding around her waist and pulling her flush against him as the realization washed over him, his chest feeling like it might break open from the sudden rush of emotions that flooded through him. His lips moved against hers, inexperienced but fervent, and she responded in kind, her lips parting to deepen the kiss, her hand sliding into his hair. The air in the bathroom was still warm and humid, but as the kiss developed, soft spots of cold floated onto their skin, causing the woman to open her eyes, a soft gasp escaping her as she looked up.

Snowflakes were forming in the air around them, the intensity of Zayne’s emotions causing his Evol to flare and turning the steamy air in the bathroom into a gentle snowfall. His eyes opened as she pulled back, widening as they took in the same sight, not fully aware of what was happening or why, since his Evol normally behaved itself. Except around her. Dimly, Zayne remembered what had happened at the rooftop café earlier that day, and he started to step away from her as concern for her safety welled up inside him.

But the woman only laughed, the sound filled with wonder at the sight of it snowing indoors, just for them. Her hand pressed to Zayne’s heart then, a warm glow emanating from it as her gaze returned to his, her eyes sparkling as her Resonance flared, chasing away the chill of his Evol that had begun to seep through him. As quickly as it had come, Zayne’s concern fled in the face of her joy and her love for him, and he let her take him by the hands, following her as she led him from the bathroom into the bedroom.

Zayne would have followed her anywhere, of course, but the knowledge of where she was leading him made his heart beat in triple time, his gaze fixed on her face – her smile and her hands in his were the only things keeping his feet on the ground. Otherwise? Cloud nine. He followed her wordlessly, allowing her to turn him as they neared the bed, her hands lifting to his shoulders and exerting a gentle pressure.

The backs of his legs touched the bed, and Zayne sank down onto it, his hands lifting to her hips hesitantly as she stepped in between his legs, bending down and kissing him softly. Was there a cloud ten? Zayne wasn’t sure, but if there was, he was on it. Her hands slid into his hair as she tilted his head back, her nails scraping lightly over his scalp, and Zayne thought his eyes might get stuck with how far back into his head they rolled.

It didn’t occur to him to stop the small sound that left him then, and the way she responded to it made Zayne want to make the sound again – the woman pressed closer to him, her tongue finding his as their lips slotted against each other’s. He was no longer aware of where his hands were, or any other part of his body for that matter, his sole focus on the way her mouth felt on his, the way her tongue tangled with his, and the scent of her that seemed to surround him.

As the kiss deepened, Zayne’s hands tightened involuntarily around her, sliding up her back and pulling her to him, one hand pressing into her shoulder and his other palm finding the small of her back. A gasp left her at the suddenness of the motion, and Zayne took the opportunity on instinct, his hand gliding up into her hair as he returned the intensity of her kiss, chasing after her lips with his own.

Then it was his turn to gasp as she met him halfway, her lips as hungry as his, her hands moving to his shoulders, pressing into him until he took the hint, falling back onto the bed, his eyes widening. From Zayne’s vantage point on the bed, she seemed like an angel, the light from the bathroom behind her, the steam that had wafted out of it into the bedroom creating a halo around her head as she followed him down. The only angel he had ever known. His hands lifted then, cupping her cheeks and drawing her down to him, not wanting to be separated from her lips for even an instant.

Zayne could feel her smile into the kiss as his fingers tangled in her hair, his hands shaking ever so slightly from a combination of love, nerves, adrenaline, and arousal, and he would have given anything to keep that smile there. Forever. A new sensation startled him then, breaking him from that thought – Zayne could feel the way her knees suddenly pressed into his sides, and he broke the kiss, his gaze darting down to the space between them as she hovered above him, his eyes widening once more.

Fuck. No, no really. FUCK. This was actually happening? FUCK. Zayne’s lips moved then, but nothing came out, as he suddenly realized he had no idea how this would go, how this would even work. Sure, he had witnessed it once in a dream, but experiencing it? That was an entirely different thing. He watched as her brow furrowed, one of her hands coming to rest over his hand on her cheek, and suddenly her lips parted, her eyebrows raising as the realization of his situation dawned on her.

“You’ve never…?” Her soft words fell over him, not accusing, just inquisitive, and Zayne shook his head numbly, his cheeks burning once more. Would she mind? He didn’t know, but he hoped to all that was holy that she wouldn’t. Her smile returned then, a tenderness to it that tempered the desire in her gaze and only drove Zayne’s higher. “Do you still…want this?”

Zayne’s nod was fervent, his mouth going dry at the thought of all of this ending now, of her getting up and leaving the room, leaving the house, leaving him. His hand on her cheek slid lower, his thumb brushing over the line of her throat, his gaze never leaving hers as he spoke in a hoarse whisper. “….very much. I-If, you’re alright with it…”

The woman answered by nodding and kissing him then, her head lowering as her damp hair fell around Zayne’s face, cocooning him in her scent and the feel of her lips, her hands, her hair, on his skin. He lost himself for a moment, in the depth of her kiss, in the way her hand found its way to his cheek, in the way her tongue met his, dancing along to a song only they knew at that moment.

When her weight settled on his hips, Zayne’s eyes fluttered open, and he inhaled sharply at the sudden pressure and the feeling of her against him, her warmth pressing him further into the mattress. She was so warm. Everything about her. Especially… OH. A low groan escaped him as he realized just what exactly was pressing down onto him, and where.

And then her lips were pressing kisses to his cheek and along his jawline, and Zayne found it very hard to focus on any one sensation – there were too many of them to count, let alone focus on. The hand resting on her neck slid lower, his fingertips ghosting over the curve of her breast and down her side to her hip, his head falling back as her lips moved to his throat. A low sound, almost like a whine, left Zayne when her lips formed a seal on his skin, sucking softly at it, his brow furrowing in response to the unfamiliar yet deeply pleasant sensation.

At some point, Zayne realized that her hand resting over his hand had disappeared from its place and was now pressing into his chest. As her mouth continued to press kisses to his throat, occasionally nipping or sucking in the process, his hand moved into her hair, his head falling back. Somehow, despite her proximity, she wasn’t close enough. Not nearly close enough.

Zayne’s hand in her hair tried to coax her closer, cupping the back of her head and drawing her to him, despite the fact that her lips were already on his skin. The press of his hand caused the woman to make a sound somewhere between a moan and a gentle hum, and he felt his hips move involuntarily in response, bucking up into her. His own voice replied with a groan that felt like it was torn from somewhere inside his chest, the overwhelming sensations she was creating against his skin getting the better of him.

“’M sorry—” Zayne gasped, unsure if he was supposed to have done any of that, only for her to cut him off with an almost blistering kiss, the need in it apparent even to him. Clearly, he had done something right. Tentatively, he rolled his hips again, voluntarily this time, and was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath from the woman above him, the sound sending even more heat flooding through his veins.

So, Zayne chased the fire swarming through him and the soft sounds she made, his hips lifting once more, his mouth responding with a matching intensity to her kiss. His hand tightened reflexively, his fingertips sinking into the soft flesh of her hip as he felt her roll her hips to meet his, pleasure surging at the feeling.

A shudder ran through him in response, and Zayne felt her hand on his chest drift lower, her nails trailing over his abdomen, tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles even as she kissed him. He didn’t know it, but the woman could feel the way his stomach muscles seemed almost to shiver as her touch drifted over them, gliding to the bones of his hips and the dip there that led her even lower. Zayne’s eyes flew open then, his back arching as her hand curled around him, her touch soft and sure, and his head fell back once more, breaking the kiss as another moan left him.

His chest heaved as Zayne fought to draw in air, the feeling of her hand on him leaving him breathless and gasping as his eyelids fluttered, the sensation somehow too much and not enough all at once. He could feel her lips leaving kisses along his throat as she guided him to her, and it was all Zayne could do not to arch up into her at the sudden warmth that enveloped him.

Though his mind had been torn in multiple directions before, Zayne’s focus zeroed in as she surrounded him, encompassing him not just physically, but consuming him in a way he knew he would never recover from. Nor would he want to. A guttural moan left him then, the sound swallowed by her mouth as she kissed him, and every thought left him as well, except the need to be as close as possible to the woman he loved.

Zayne sought her pleasure like a man possessed then, his hips rolling to meet hers as they moved, his inexperience tempered by his desire to please, his mind cataloguing every sound she made and every shudder that passed through her, repeating the motions that brought them out and discarding the ones that didn’t. His own sounds quickly joined hers, his soft gasps and moans giving way to ragged breaths and groans as they each chased the other’s bliss, the heat between them rising.

The pressure that built inside of him as they moved together was not an unfamiliar one, but the intensity of it and the speed with which it built was unlike anything Zayne had felt before, and he found his focus being drawn from her to the need to keep control of himself, not wanting this slice of heaven that he had found himself in to end. His hands had found their way to her hips, not to guide, as Zayne had no idea how to do that, but as an anchor – a way to ground himself in the sea of sensation he was currently awash in.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zayne was dimly aware of her hands on his chest, her nails leaving red lines along his skin, the light sting of them only adding to the waves of pleasure that crashed over him as her hips rose and fell and his met them. His head had fallen back, his brow furrowed in concentration and desire as he fought to stave off the inevitable tidal wave that loomed on the horizon.

The sound of her voice changed then, the pitch of it rising, and Zayne’s eyes flew open, concern rising in him at first until his gaze landed on her face and he felt the way she went taut above him, the way her voice broke off from the sharp cry of pleasure that had left her. The tidal wave he had been attempting, and failing, to delay broke over him as her body tightened around him, and Zayne was lost at sea as he capsized into ecstasy. Intense pleasure burst behind his eyes, like fireworks above a raging ocean, as a cry of his own was ripped from him, and his mind swam through the euphoria that crashed around him and dragged him under.

Zayne could have drowned then, willingly. Happily, even.

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Tags: @callme-naomi @seris-the-amious @schnittled @punk-cat @criffininflight @justpassingdontworry

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