Ziri of the Kirin looked at Liraz standing by the mountain's edge. He approached her, flying, so that she wouldn't see or hear him. Ziri thought she looked the most peaceful he had ever seen her, apart from the fact her arms were crossed and her posture taut, but that was custom. He came up beside her and Liraz turned her head to look at him. Ziri smiled, a sweet smile that made Liraz feel happy, tingly in the inside even though she didn't admit it. Looking out past the edge, a group of stormhunters flying a way away past the Hintermost, their powerful wings making a noise that even the angel and the devil could hear.
They didn't speak for a while, instead sitting down and letting the breeze from the mountains stroke their tired faces, as Liraz closed her eyes for an unguarded moment.
"The sky is healing," Ziri pointed, and Liraz opened her ice blue eyes, that weren't as cold anymore, to follow Ziri's finger to the twilight sky. Indeed it was healing, but Liraz looked only at Ziri until his eyes met hers, by which point she was looking away, a gentle blush appearing on her cheeks. Ziri saw her watching, however, and blushed pink to match Liraz, until the air brought the heat down. Moving his hand, slowly, tentatively, so that their fingers touched.
Liraz's head snapped towards their hands, but she didn't mind. She didn't want Ziri to think she found him disgusting, because she didn't and never did, not even when he was wearing Thiago's costume.
Ziri met her gaze, soft brown to light blue, and held it, a smile creeping up on both their faces. He didn't know what to do, because he knew Liraz and understood that, as him, hadn't as much as held hands with anyone before, and wanted to go at her pace. Yet sweet Ziri didn't know what pace this was, so he was hesitant even at the oddest of places.
Liraz knew this. She was still scared of sleeping with someone, bare skin to bare skin, breathing each other's air and kissing. Kissing. If someone had told her a month ago she would be thinking of what it would be like kissing a chimaera, she would have given them more than a stare. Chopped a finger off, for good measure. But the Liraz of a month ago and the Liraz of now was not the same person, and even though she still missed Hazael more than anything, she really thought she was going to get by without him. And for his sake, she held the Kirin's gaze even when he lifted a hand to stroke her hair. Liraz froze, and so did Ziri. A voice deep inside of her said No, you don't want this, you don't want closeness, but a louder one argued that she did want this, and so she swallowed and nodded, as Ziri moved his hand down and began to undo her plait. Liraz held her breath as she watched. She always wore plaits, and had never worn her hair down in front of anybody, not even her brothers. But she let Ziri continue, for reasons she would later question. Lifting her lined hand, she helped him undo the other and her free hair fell in waves over her bare shoulders.
Ziri didn't think he'd seen anything as golden as Liraz's hair. He stroked it, but noticed the way Liraz's throat moved when he did. Telling himself she would have told him to stop earlier, he continued until he reached the end of her hair and moved his hand down. Looking up at her, their eyes met once more and another flush appeared on Liraz's cheeks.
"I've, um, never worn my hair down," She said, and almost slammed her hand to her mouth at how stupid that sounded. But sweet, sweet Ziri smiled, and Liraz thought she could get used to the way his face lit up and crinkled his eyes, and a small voice piped up to say that, he was handsome. Taking control of this little voice, she gently tapped it aside, so it was still there, but quiet.
"Your hair is as beautiful as your voice," Said Ziri, and Liraz flushed even deeper.
"Voice?" She asked.
Ziri looked up from beneath his dark eyelashes and Liraz knew. When he'd died, in Thiago's body, she had sung for his soul so that it would go into a little canteen. She felt stupid, because she didn't know if it had been that that had brought Ziri's soul in. But she would do it again, because, right now, losing Ziri hurt to think about more than it hurt to think about the moment when Hazael died.
"Could you, um, sing for me again sometime?"
His voice. It was soft and Liraz wanted to say yes, yes she would sing to him whenever he wanted, but she didn't, of course.
"I... don't know any other songs," She murmured, slightly bashful.
Ziri nodded, but he didn't look annoyed or disappointed or, she noted, unkind. But how could Ziri be unkind?
"What song was it?"
Liraz thought. She really didn't know, it had just come into her head amist the sadness of thinking of Ziri gone, and remembered the title just as she was about to say 'I don't know.'
"Come home," She said.
Ziri's eyes glistened with something Liraz couldn't place, and before she said anything Ziri leaned in, slowly, so hesitant that Liraz leaned forward herself to meet him in the middle.
As soon as their lips touched, Liraz's head exploded with arguments from 'Pull away' to 'Kiss him back', but she did neither and when Ziri pulled away she was just beginning to respond. Ziri saw and a smile split across his beautiful face, followed by the familiar red cheeks from both of them.
"I never thanked you for it," He said, and Liraz breathed out. She didn't know what she would have replied to him questioning her ability to kiss properly.
"Was that a thank you?"
Ziri's face turned serious, and his hand came up to her chin, and she let him. Of course she did.
"No. That was something else."
Before she replied, he was kissing her again, softly and gently, as he didn't speed up and neither did she, slow and compassionate.
When they drew way, Liraz leaned her head on his shoulder as they looked past the mountain's edge. Twilight turned to dusk and dusk to midnight, her dark, velvety sheet covering the angel and the devil. She would later frown at her own vulnerability, but right now, all she cared about was this Kirin and the kiss that had just sealed their new love, a love she didn't know but wanted to keep forever.