I meant to post this yesterday, because I did write it. But, somewhere along the night, I got roped into playing Fallout4. Next thing I knew, I'd built an entire fortress and it was 11pm. So, hopefully I can get two chapters up today? We'll have to see.
Feedback is always appreciated!
There was something constantly cold about living in a fortress built on waterways. It might have made cooling down in the hot sun easier, or even just going for a quick dip. Just having some place to soak your toes in after a long battle. But, something was undeniably cold. Whether there was a breeze never seemed to change much, that temperature always, barely, above freezing. An exaggeration, but nonetheless, Eponine pulled her knees closer to her as she shivered.
Her hood was up, small cape pulled tight and closed across her chest, but it seemed all for naught. Even with gloves—if they could be called that, fingerless as they were—her fingers felt frost bitten. This is what she got for trying to write outside, for trying to enjoy the sun. A sun that did absolutely nothing for warming up the courtyard, she paid special mind to think about. What good was the sun if everything stayed cold?
And to make matters worse, there he was, not too far out in front of her. She was nestled up underneath a tree, in the shade, trying her best to write in this journal she'd picked up in town. And he, sleeves rolled up and absolutely stunning, was training. Not cold. Waving around that spear like he really knew what he was doing, like he wasn't cold. Like he could hold his own in a fight, and he most certainly could. She'd seen him do it, countless times. Of course, they always worked well in a pair, she knew that too.
Eponine chewed on the tip of her thumb as she watched. Her writing, her shivering, both forgotten as she studied his footwork. He'd definitely practiced up on it. She'd always called him stiff, but now, he looked lighter. Maybe something he'd picked up from her, at least she could hope. Her time as a thief made it easy to acquire quiet feet, and now she was something like a butterfly on the battlefield. Her bow in hand.
"Maybe not a butterfly," she muttered to herself, grimacing, looking back down to her journal. Definitely not a butterfly. She shrugged and went back to her work, all too aware again of how cold it was. She couldn't help but frown, tucking away her quill in the journal. She closed it, laid it on the grass, and folded her arms tight across her chest. As if staring, angrily, after Shinonome might somehow make her warmer than the complete lack of everything she was doing.
It made sense if she didn't think about it. And she was determined not to think.
Shinonome had been training since the morning. He'd started training with his mother, a bit of way to blow off steam. But, she had other things to attend to, and so he'd elected to stay out a bit longer. The sun was not his friend, making an already tiring workout worse with the beat down of heat. He was sweating, his clothes were damp and uncomfortable. But, he still had his breath, his legs hadn't started to wobble. Clearly, he still had more juice in him.
So, he continued, but it was nearly halfway through his routine when he'd noticed Eponine come to sit under her tree. Noticed her pathetic shivers, as well, but chose to keep his laughter to himself. She hadn't noticed him, but that was normal. Eponine rarely noticed anyone when she was engrossed with that journal, bound with a leather dyed purple. He'd always thought it was endearing, so he followed her lead and pushed her from his mind to focus. Nearly finished, and he'd felt her staring holes into his back like he was suddenly the world's worst enemy. She stared for what seemed an obscene amount of time before her shoulders finally went lax.
Shinonome glanced at her as he finally set down his spear. He stretched out his arms, strained muscles and all, and simply watched her. She wasn't paying attention anymore, instead, flipping through the old parchment pages of the journal. He'd insisted they buy it weeks earlier, having found it in some corner shop in town. They were supposed to be buying provisions, but he'd throw away an entire week's ration if it meant Eponine could have the journal. His stomach growled at the memory. Eating less so no one would notice they'd bough something other than food was taking its toll. Another growl, and he called it a day without second thought.
"Hey," he called out.
She barely gave him the time of day: a single glance, a wryly smile, then she looked back down. He took pause, for a second, then continued his saunter over to the tree. It was definitely cooler in the shade, most definitely why she was cold. He didn't comment, just plopped right down next to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Tightly.
"Hey—ew!" she nearly shrieked, struggling to get away. Shinonome held tight, a wide, toothy grin stretched over his face.
"You're cold!"
"You're disgusting!" she shifted, squirmed—anything to try to free her arms. But, in the end, it was useless. Eponine let out a hefty sigh, a miserable groan, and then slumped into his shoulder. A defeated woman.
"See, not so bad," Shinonome beamed.
"Yeah, only because I'm sweaty too now. Nasty," she grimaced.
"It can't be that bad, you look comfortable."
Even as his arms loosened around her, opposite arm falling away from her and dropping into his lap, Eponine didn't move. She shifted, slightly, if only to curl closer into his side. He squeezed her shoulder in response. She didn't really care that he was sweaty or that she could feel weird dampness at her back where his arm was resting. But, if she accepted it without a fight, she'd rather be dead.
"How was training?" she asked, quietly, picking at the fabric of his clothes.
"Tiring. Mom helped me out this morning, but guess she just didn't have the stamina," he laughed to himself.
"Pfft. Oboro and Mother train together all the time. My mother could kick your ass any day," Eponine responded by sticking out her tongue.
Shinonome smiled, squeezing Eponine's shoulders and bringing her as close as she could be. Without being in his lap, of course. Maybe too soon. But, her arms wound around his middle in turn, where she squeezed him tightly back.
"I was cold. Maybe not desperate for sweat hugs, but cold," she muttered.
"Well, maybe you could train with me tomorrow. Then the sweat cancels out, right?"
"That is absolutely disgusting!" she slapped his chest, lightly, but enough to leave a lingering sting. He couldn't be bothered with it, and only laughed. After all, Eponine still hadn't pulled away. She settled down at his side, beneath the tree, and let her eyes close. Shinonome was sweaty, maybe. But, he was warm and would always be comfortable.
