One Too Many

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You were supposed to return to the temple three hours ago.

When Bo' had invited the Grandmaster to drink, Kuai had to politely turn him down. He had work to do, after all, and Bo' asked to drink so often it was almost impossible to keep it up every weekend. So you had offered to go in Kuai Liang's place, as to not disappoint Bo'. You were helpful with these sorts of things, and generally, your husband appreciated the gesture. But now he was more than a little concerned. He'd waited for you at dinner, and was beginning to get anxious when you weren't home as the sun went down. It had gotten to the point where he paced by the front door, contemplating whether he should go in search of you or trust Bo' to bring you home safely. It wasn't even so much that he was worried you were at risk, but rather, that you had lost control of Bo' and were now struggling to lead him home.

And the longer he paced, the more his thoughts grew grim. He had a very precarious past, after all, and there were still individualists who would gain a sort of revenge in destroying something that belonged to him. This was a small worry that metastasized quickly to the point where he finally swung open the doors to the outside and set foot onto the stone steps.

To his great relief, you were at the bottom of them, standing next to Bo' Rai Cho—or at least trying to.

You were hilariously drunk.

And Bo' was giggling to himself, still sipping on something stout as you tumbled and propped yourself against the steal dragon statues. You hadn't even noticed Kuai at the top of the stairs; you were too busy squinting at the bright light of the hall.

Bo' spoke first, in a wheezy laugh, "She's been trying to get up those stairs for twenty minutes."

"There's so many of them," you slur, holding your hands out in front of you, squinting at the ice-covered stones. "There's at least . . . five."

There were actually six, but he wasn't about to correct you. In fact, Kuai was almost disappointed to the point of no words.

"You don't ever drink so much," he makes his way cautiously to the bottom of the steps. You sway towards him, your hand outstretched, unable to perceive distance. When your nipped hands come in contact with the bare skin of his chest between his padding, you grin widely, as if finally recognizing him.

Bo' takes a seat on the step and says to him, "She had a glass of wine and said she didn't need anything else. I wasn't about to let her sit there and have no fun whilst I enjoyed myself, so I offered her some of this," he holds up the stout drink and sloshes it around some, giggling once more.

Kuai smoothly pries it out of Bo's hands and inhales its scent. His brow crinkles just slightly. It's ridiculously pungent; he wasn't even sure what all was in it. His disappointed gaze was now directed at the true culprit, Bo', who was now wheezing heavily with laughter as you mumbled about being sick all of Kuai's boots if he didn't take you inside.

Kuai hands the drink back to Bo', who takes a healthy swig, then proceeds to carefully pick you up in his arms. He gracefully ignores the fact that your hands are sliding up his neck, tangling in his beard, trying to get his attention. "Bo', I should let you try and find your way back on your own. But, as you did manage to bring her back here . . . moderately unharmed . . . I can't deny you. There's a room waiting for you. Get yourself inside."

The latter instruction was the ultimate punishment, as it would take Bo' a while longer in the cold to figure out how to scale the steps himself. You, however, needn't worry about that anymore as Liang carried you up them with ease. You were saying something under your breath about how you missed dinner, as if you had just recalled the time. Your husband doesn't reprimand you.

He turns down offers from your handmaidens asking to attend to you. It's late at night and they should have gone to bed hours ago, but they had been worried. Now that they saw that you were home safe, Liang dismissed them to sleep soundly. When he pushed open the door to your bedroom, he noticed that your eyes were teary and your cheeks were flushed and blotchy.

He pauses and asks you in concern, "What is it?"

"I'm s—," you have to swallow first, your mouth is dry, "I'm sorry I made you worry."

He almost chuckles. "You didn't worry me." You had, but that was over now. In the morning, the whole event would be humorous to him. "I had thought Bo' was giving you trouble, that's all."

"Oh, he did." You grumble as he lays you down on your side of the mat. "I didn't want to be drunk; I don't ever drink, you know that."

It was getting harder to tell what you were saying, but he assumed you were explaining yourself.

He has a small smile on his face. Even now, you try your hardest not to displease him. He had to admit, though, that you never could. You were an honorable companion, after all. His most trusted adviser, his greatest confidant, his wife. You were many things, but you were never an annoyance.

"I know," he replies, starting to undress you. You smell of the bar and your clothes are wet from where you'd fallen in the snow. He notices bruises on your knees and arms and suddenly feels guilty that he had not gone instead of you. Bo' had caused you more trouble than you deserved for the kind-hearted gesture you had displayed.

Just as he was beginning to question if he would be in any better shape had he gone, you hands find his cheeks and pull his gaze to you. "Liang do you love me?"

He stares at you silently.

"Of course I love you."

"What if I was ugly?"

"There is no such thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. One's outward appearance means nothing."

It honestly was not why he had decided to marry you. He had never focused on your looks, though he had noticed them on your wedding night. You were valued more for your selflessness, your divine justice, and your kindred heart. These were all things he sought to find within himself but instead had found within you. Being beside you, he had decided, was the closest he would ever get.

"What if I had—,"

"Yes, I'd still feel the same."

"But what if my eye was—,"

"Yes."

"And if my chest was—,"

He silences you with a glance that you'd seen a couple of times before. Once was when you had first met Johnny Cage and he did not realize you were the wife of Sub-Zero and had gotten a little too friendly with you. And once on a night where both you and Kuai had had a little too much to drink, were heading back to your room, and decided you could make it so you made love against the hallway wall.

"I assure you, lǎopó," he pulls a clean shirt over your head and pulls the duvet cover up to your chin. "Yes to all of them."

You are quiet for a spell as he collects your dirty laundry and stashes it somewhere out of your view. Your head is still reeling and all you can do is watch him as he undresses and slips into bed next to you. The best part of being wed to Kuai Liang was quite possibly this—when he lies beside you, pulls you next to him, and holds you there in his grasp. He'll let out a sigh, as if he's been holding it within him all day, and you can feel his relax against you.

His hand strokes your hair and your eyes close.

"Liang?"

"Hm?" He's close to sleep, but manages to make a sound.

"What if I had an extra limb, would you still lo—,"

"Goodnight."

/end\