TITLE: Sleepyheads
CHARACTERS: Kalas, Xelha
GENRE: Romance
SPOILERS: up to and including BK CD1 – Pherkad
SUMMARY: Being held captive, fighting Giacomo, excaping from the imperial soldiers... How can you blame Xelha for being tired? Rated K+ for mild coarse language.
DISCLAIMER: Let me see... I don't own the copyright for Kalas, nor Xelha, nor the Guide Spirit, nor Diadem and the Diadem Express liner, nor Bluebirds of Happiness, nor Giacomo, nor Nahira. Hope I didn't forget anything...
AUTHORS NOTE: How is it that I used to hate Xelha and now I'm writing fanfics about her all the time? There must be something really wrong with me...
The Diadem Express liner, with its many large fins and the red fish tied on its head, was flying through the red sky of sundown, the last rays of the dying sun shining on it as if they were reaching for its greenish scales in a vain attempt to not be swallowed by the darkness of dusk. Bluebirds of Happiness could be spotted on the horizon, flying nimbly in the wind, probably heading toward their roost and the deserved rest they would find there.
It had been a long day, but it looked like it was finally coming to an end.
Xelha breathed deeply, allowing the wind to blow away all of her fears and worries. Sure, her journey had just begun; there was still so much to do... But at least she didn't have to be concerned about it for the moment: she could just close her eyes and let the Diadem Express liner carry her to Nashira, floating among the gentle wind and the scattered orange clouds to whatever was going to happen next.
"Hey" Kalas' voice brought her back to reality. She looked at him in surprise: the entire journey he had been avoiding her, talking to his Guide Spirit about Giacomo and giving only quick, basically monosyllabic answers to her questions. "I spoke with the skipper. Looks like it'll take another couple of hours to get to Nashira."
Xelha nodded. What was she expecting him to say? "It's fine for me. At least we can have some rest."
"Right."
They sat in silence for a while, both looking at the burning sky where the first, brighter stars were beginning to shine. It looked like a pretty romantic moment, Xelha thought, the two of them sitting side by side, gazing at the sunset, but for a bunch of reasons it wasn't. After all next to her was Kalas, and despite her affection for him she had to admit he wasn't exactly a tender, sweet companion; plus, she felt the weight of the Guide Spirit's stare on her, reminding her they weren't alone; and then there was this terrible tiredness...
Kalas heard a long yawn and turned toward Xelha. She was going to fall asleep any minute: eyes blinking, head bending forward slowly and suddenly coming back, breaths becoming always more regular and deep... Until eventually her eyes shut once and for all and her head started to sway from side to side, dancing to the rhythm of the ship's movement in the sky.
Looking for a place to rest on.
Kalas stared at it in panic, unable to move. Nonononopleasedon't...
Too late, Xelha's head landed softly on his left shoulder.
Oh, come on! He cursed to himself. What was he supposed to do now? He certainly didn't want to spend the next two hours acting as a pillow - on the other hand, waking Xelha would have meant making her realize what had happened; he could already picture her blushing, her face a brighter red than the sky's one, and starting to stammer excuses. He wasn't eager to start reassuring her that it was nothing, she was just tired, either, he decided. Besides, it wouldn't have been fair to her: she probably didn't need an embarrassing wake-up on top of all the shit she had been through that day,.
So... what other choices did he have?
He could pretend to fall asleep, he thought... But that wouldn't fix the pillow-shoulder problem.
Or he could make as if he hadn't noticed anything and had woken her by accident. Hoping his Guide Spirit wouldn't spot his unease, he coughed: once, twice... Nothing. He tried slipping away from her grip, slowly and carefully, doing his best to not wake her, but it didn't seem to work either: mumbling softly, Xelha somehow managed to reach his shoulder again, and this time she even rubbed her cheek against it to find a more comfortable spot.
Kalas couldn't hide a smile. She looked so cute, all tired and vulnerable... True, she was a delusional, annoying idealist who thought she could make a difference to the world, and got mad as soon as she met someone who wasn't as crazy as her... But he had to admit she had guts - probably more than he had. And her purpose was noble, in spite of being hopelessly destined to failure. And man, how was it that the scarlet light of dusk made her look so fucking beautiful?
Kalas sighed. Fine, Xelha, he thought. You win. He rested his head on hers and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep too.
And as strange as it might sound, it felt nice.
