I have something to say: it is better to burn out than to fade away.
--- Highlander
Otherworld Year Nine: Chapter 1
It was warm. Uncomfortably warm. But Auron chose to ignore it... resisting the urge to shift his weight beneath his robe and chestplate, as he made the turn from the main roadway onto the serpentine path alongside the building.
The strident sound of loud music made its way to Auron's ears, long before the sight of Isabo's front doorway met his eye... the entrance to her living space standing open in a dark maw against the waning light of the day, in hopes of capturing any available breeze that might decide to come in off the water beyond it.
Auron hesitated for a moment, one hand brushing against the door track, then proceeding through, the low bass of a heavy back-beat vibrating through him as he looked past the entryway and into the studio beyond, its double-doors thrown wide.
There was Isabo, dressed in paint-spattered jeans and a tank-top, her hair pulled back, as she danced and swayed in front of the canvas on the easel before her, singing along at the top of her lungs, the paintbrush in her hand darting forward to attack the painting's surface in time to the music... the quick strokes of pigment applied in a seemingly haphazard fashion.
Realizing he had caught her in a completely un-guarded moment, Auron couldn't resist the opportunity and leaned up against one wall of the vestibule, shaking his head at this scene. He had always imagined it differently... his mind's eye seeing her quietly creating in a somber, dignified procedure.
Should have known better he thought, smiling, then pushing off from the wall and walking toward the studio, clearing his throat in a low rumble as the music paused for a moment, the artist following suit.
Isabo jumped in surprise, her ponytail whipping across her shoulder as her head turned in Auron's direction.
Her face turning the color of his robe, she brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with the realization of what he must have witnessed.
A self-conscious smile spread across her face as she reached behind her to turn the music off then said timidly... "Oh crud, I'm sorry, is it that late already? Guess I kind of lost track of time."
"No need to apologize. I haven't been this entertained in years." Auron chuckled.
Isabo had no comeback for that, other than a nervous laugh as she looked up at him in a disconcerted fragility, a swash of wet paint running across the bridge of her nose and along one cheek... Auron's chuckle deeper and longer as he met her gaze through his glasses.
"What?" Isabo asked, her forehead wrinkling.
"You have a little something..." Auron said, gesturing across his face with one finger.
"Oh." Isabo said with a sheepish smile, wiping her forearm across her face, only managing to smear the paint... "Did I get it?"
"Un." Was Auron's response as he reached for a rag on the worktable, then held her chin with one hand, wiping the paint from her face with the other, Isabo's mouth slightly open and her eyes looking toward the ceiling. "There." Auron said, tossing the rag back to the tabletop.
Her face contemplative Isabo said... "You're awfully gentle sometimes, for such a tough guy."
"I see no need to insult me." Auron said, another chuckle rumbling through him.
************
"Check." Isabo said, then reached for her cup to down the remaining sake from it.
Auron leaned forward, a wayward lock of dark hair falling across his brow as he studied the board.
"End of story." He nodded in concession, then leaned back against the couch and brought a hand to his chin, scratching at its shadow.
"I could help you with that you know." Isabo said, tilting her head at him.
His hand pausing in mid-scratch, Auron replied... "Help me with what?"
"It just so happens, that I give the closest shave in all of Zanarkand. I used to do it for my father all the time." Isabo explained with a grin.
"I have a strict policy about allowing strange women near my throat with sharp objects." Auron said with a classic smirk.
Running her tongue out between her lips, Isabo offered Auron a resounding raspberry.
"Charming." Auron responded.
Isabo glared at him... "Your loss. But I must say I'm surprised by your reticence. I thought you braver than that."
Auron's eye narrowed, as he raised his arms straight out from his sides... "Fine then, have at me. Shave anything you please."
Isabo's eyes grew wide in shock for a moment, then she set her jaw and countered... "A tempting offer, but I think just your face will do for now."
Auron actually looked non-plussed at that and Isabo smiled... pleased with herself. Obviously, he had hoped to embarrass her into backing off.
"Damn you, woman." Auron growled. She had called his bluff.
************
Free of encumbrance down to his waist, Auron sat grumpily on a low stool in front of the bathroom sink, his arms spread out against the top of the counter behind him, as he eyed Isabo organizing the shaving supplies, her hand reaching out to start water gurgling from the tap.
Seeing the stormy look etched across his features, Isabo sighed. "This could be nice, if you'd just relax a minute... come on, please?"
Auron gave her an exasperated stare, then leaned back and closed his eye... Isabo unaware of the effort required on his part, to allow himself to be as vulnerable as this.
Taking a deep breath, Isabo closed her eyes for a moment, doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand... her heart-rate escalating rapidly at the sight of his bared physique.
Running her hands under the water for a few moments, Isabo brought them to Auron's face... massaging the warm liquid into his stubbled jaw and neck in tight circles, smiling, as she watched Auron's shoulders drop and his features begin to relax, the crease between his brow softening.
She reached for the can of shave gel and shook it for a few seconds, then sprayed a thick mound into her palm. Scooping half of the foam from her open hand with the other, she brought them up and coated the lower half of Auron's face, along his jawline, down his neck, then finally raising a finger to wipe the coating of lather from his lips... Auron's eyebrows arching slightly at the touch.
Rinsing her hands and drying them, she reached for the razor sitting on the sink surround and ran it under the water. The razor suspended in her hand, she paused for a moment to study the sight of Auron dressed in a thick white beard of foam, and released a soft burst of giggles.
"Continue laughing, and you'll find out just how skilled I can be with a sharp object." Auron said in a muffled rumble, his lips barely moving with the words.
"Yes sir, it won't happen again sir." Isabo replied in mock seriousness.
"Hmph."
"Stop that, you're blowing the lather off."
"Just get on with it." Auron said as he cracked his eye to glare at her, his voice sounding rougher than he intended.
"Alright you big grump." Isabo retorted, placing her fingertips against the side of Auron's head and pushing his head back slightly to the right as she instructed... "Do that thing with your face."
"What thing?" Auron responded, emphasizing the last word.
"You know, like this." Isabo replied, moving her lips to one side to demonstrate.
Auron grunted, then skewed his mouth to the right, tilting his jaw forward slightly, as Isabo pulled the skin tighter with her thumb against his cheekbone, carefully moving upward against his skin in long, even rows, pausing to rinse the razor after each stroke.
The left side done, Isabo gently rotated Auron's head the other way, his neck offering no resistance now... his features calm and still, his breathing slow and deep.
Isabo hesitated, looking at the scar that traced its way down the right side of Auron's face... "Will it hurt?" She whispered tenderly, stretching her fingertips toward the line of disturbed flesh for a moment, then pulling them back.
"No." Auron replied quietly, the shadow of a grim smile playing across his lips. "There is no feeling there."
Saying nothing, Isabo gently took the shadow of hair from the right side, then simply said... "Upper lip."
Auron obliged by extending his upper lip down to allow access... Isabo deftly moving the razor along the ridge above it, Auron anticipating her by thrusting his chin forward for the next section.
Acting in a quiet confidence now, Isabo pushed against Auron's forehead, her eyes intense in concentration as she shaved the corded muscle of his neck, carefully lightening the pressure as she worked across the extension of bone in the middle, then continuing across the other side to finish.
Exhaling in completion, Isabo laid aside the razor then covered her hands in water once more, rinsing Auron's face, then grabbing for a towel from the counter.
Auron opened his eye to gaze at her. This was intolerable. He couldn't allow this to continue for a moment longer. The sight of her bending over him and her touch, had become more than he could bear.
Isabo stepped back as Auron stood and took the towel from her, wiping away the remnants of lather and moisture, then handing it back as he ran a hand down his chin... "Not bad."
"Let me see." Isabo said reaching up, intending to bring her hand to his face.
Auron quickly grasped her wrist, stopping her touch as he searched her face... his eye squeezing closed for a moment then opening once more, its coppery-depths holding a look of hunger, almost frightening in its intensity.
"There's a better way." Auron said, his voice a low, raw force.
Leaning down, he brought his face alongside hers, his jaw moving in a gentle caress against her cheek for a moment, then moving his head again to find her lips with his, tracing lightly across their supple fullness then becoming more ardent, his grip on her wrist tightening as his lips increased their pressure, her head tilting to one side, returning his kiss in full.
And then there was no death, no pain, no sorrow... only this... the sweet yearning press of her mouth, his tongue finding its way past her lips to explore the surfaces within, the long-banked fire of his longing igniting in a rising heat up through his body.
Isabo slowly pulled away, her wrist still encased in Auron's vice-like hold, her face and eyes a luminous flush. She had dreamed of this and now it was real. But she couldn't... shouldn't allow it to go on without telling him. She had thought one or the other of them would have been long gone by now, but here they still were... and somewhere along the way, he had completely stolen her heart.
"Auron, there's something we need to discuss." Isabo said, her voice a low quaver.
"Later." Auron commanded.
He needed. He needed her. Tonight. Now.
Pulling her forward, and slipping one arm around her lower back and the other around her shoulders, his hand coming up behind her head... Auron brought her roughly to him, then lifted her off her feet as he pressed her soft warmth against him, enveloping her in his arms with a powerful urgency.
Bringing her closer still, Auron burrowed in next to her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair, then lowered his head to the junction between her neck and shoulder, running his lips across the silken, pale skin there.
Isabo trembled against him as her hands came up to his hair, her fingers spreading and clutching at his head, her breathing throaty and rapid.
Then she leaned her head back to look into his face, the answers to all his questions in her eyes... as he carried her into the darkness beyond the door.
--- Highlander
Otherworld Year Nine: Chapter 1
It was warm. Uncomfortably warm. But Auron chose to ignore it... resisting the urge to shift his weight beneath his robe and chestplate, as he made the turn from the main roadway onto the serpentine path alongside the building.
The strident sound of loud music made its way to Auron's ears, long before the sight of Isabo's front doorway met his eye... the entrance to her living space standing open in a dark maw against the waning light of the day, in hopes of capturing any available breeze that might decide to come in off the water beyond it.
Auron hesitated for a moment, one hand brushing against the door track, then proceeding through, the low bass of a heavy back-beat vibrating through him as he looked past the entryway and into the studio beyond, its double-doors thrown wide.
There was Isabo, dressed in paint-spattered jeans and a tank-top, her hair pulled back, as she danced and swayed in front of the canvas on the easel before her, singing along at the top of her lungs, the paintbrush in her hand darting forward to attack the painting's surface in time to the music... the quick strokes of pigment applied in a seemingly haphazard fashion.
Realizing he had caught her in a completely un-guarded moment, Auron couldn't resist the opportunity and leaned up against one wall of the vestibule, shaking his head at this scene. He had always imagined it differently... his mind's eye seeing her quietly creating in a somber, dignified procedure.
Should have known better he thought, smiling, then pushing off from the wall and walking toward the studio, clearing his throat in a low rumble as the music paused for a moment, the artist following suit.
Isabo jumped in surprise, her ponytail whipping across her shoulder as her head turned in Auron's direction.
Her face turning the color of his robe, she brought a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with the realization of what he must have witnessed.
A self-conscious smile spread across her face as she reached behind her to turn the music off then said timidly... "Oh crud, I'm sorry, is it that late already? Guess I kind of lost track of time."
"No need to apologize. I haven't been this entertained in years." Auron chuckled.
Isabo had no comeback for that, other than a nervous laugh as she looked up at him in a disconcerted fragility, a swash of wet paint running across the bridge of her nose and along one cheek... Auron's chuckle deeper and longer as he met her gaze through his glasses.
"What?" Isabo asked, her forehead wrinkling.
"You have a little something..." Auron said, gesturing across his face with one finger.
"Oh." Isabo said with a sheepish smile, wiping her forearm across her face, only managing to smear the paint... "Did I get it?"
"Un." Was Auron's response as he reached for a rag on the worktable, then held her chin with one hand, wiping the paint from her face with the other, Isabo's mouth slightly open and her eyes looking toward the ceiling. "There." Auron said, tossing the rag back to the tabletop.
Her face contemplative Isabo said... "You're awfully gentle sometimes, for such a tough guy."
"I see no need to insult me." Auron said, another chuckle rumbling through him.
************
"Check." Isabo said, then reached for her cup to down the remaining sake from it.
Auron leaned forward, a wayward lock of dark hair falling across his brow as he studied the board.
"End of story." He nodded in concession, then leaned back against the couch and brought a hand to his chin, scratching at its shadow.
"I could help you with that you know." Isabo said, tilting her head at him.
His hand pausing in mid-scratch, Auron replied... "Help me with what?"
"It just so happens, that I give the closest shave in all of Zanarkand. I used to do it for my father all the time." Isabo explained with a grin.
"I have a strict policy about allowing strange women near my throat with sharp objects." Auron said with a classic smirk.
Running her tongue out between her lips, Isabo offered Auron a resounding raspberry.
"Charming." Auron responded.
Isabo glared at him... "Your loss. But I must say I'm surprised by your reticence. I thought you braver than that."
Auron's eye narrowed, as he raised his arms straight out from his sides... "Fine then, have at me. Shave anything you please."
Isabo's eyes grew wide in shock for a moment, then she set her jaw and countered... "A tempting offer, but I think just your face will do for now."
Auron actually looked non-plussed at that and Isabo smiled... pleased with herself. Obviously, he had hoped to embarrass her into backing off.
"Damn you, woman." Auron growled. She had called his bluff.
************
Free of encumbrance down to his waist, Auron sat grumpily on a low stool in front of the bathroom sink, his arms spread out against the top of the counter behind him, as he eyed Isabo organizing the shaving supplies, her hand reaching out to start water gurgling from the tap.
Seeing the stormy look etched across his features, Isabo sighed. "This could be nice, if you'd just relax a minute... come on, please?"
Auron gave her an exasperated stare, then leaned back and closed his eye... Isabo unaware of the effort required on his part, to allow himself to be as vulnerable as this.
Taking a deep breath, Isabo closed her eyes for a moment, doing her best to concentrate on the task at hand... her heart-rate escalating rapidly at the sight of his bared physique.
Running her hands under the water for a few moments, Isabo brought them to Auron's face... massaging the warm liquid into his stubbled jaw and neck in tight circles, smiling, as she watched Auron's shoulders drop and his features begin to relax, the crease between his brow softening.
She reached for the can of shave gel and shook it for a few seconds, then sprayed a thick mound into her palm. Scooping half of the foam from her open hand with the other, she brought them up and coated the lower half of Auron's face, along his jawline, down his neck, then finally raising a finger to wipe the coating of lather from his lips... Auron's eyebrows arching slightly at the touch.
Rinsing her hands and drying them, she reached for the razor sitting on the sink surround and ran it under the water. The razor suspended in her hand, she paused for a moment to study the sight of Auron dressed in a thick white beard of foam, and released a soft burst of giggles.
"Continue laughing, and you'll find out just how skilled I can be with a sharp object." Auron said in a muffled rumble, his lips barely moving with the words.
"Yes sir, it won't happen again sir." Isabo replied in mock seriousness.
"Hmph."
"Stop that, you're blowing the lather off."
"Just get on with it." Auron said as he cracked his eye to glare at her, his voice sounding rougher than he intended.
"Alright you big grump." Isabo retorted, placing her fingertips against the side of Auron's head and pushing his head back slightly to the right as she instructed... "Do that thing with your face."
"What thing?" Auron responded, emphasizing the last word.
"You know, like this." Isabo replied, moving her lips to one side to demonstrate.
Auron grunted, then skewed his mouth to the right, tilting his jaw forward slightly, as Isabo pulled the skin tighter with her thumb against his cheekbone, carefully moving upward against his skin in long, even rows, pausing to rinse the razor after each stroke.
The left side done, Isabo gently rotated Auron's head the other way, his neck offering no resistance now... his features calm and still, his breathing slow and deep.
Isabo hesitated, looking at the scar that traced its way down the right side of Auron's face... "Will it hurt?" She whispered tenderly, stretching her fingertips toward the line of disturbed flesh for a moment, then pulling them back.
"No." Auron replied quietly, the shadow of a grim smile playing across his lips. "There is no feeling there."
Saying nothing, Isabo gently took the shadow of hair from the right side, then simply said... "Upper lip."
Auron obliged by extending his upper lip down to allow access... Isabo deftly moving the razor along the ridge above it, Auron anticipating her by thrusting his chin forward for the next section.
Acting in a quiet confidence now, Isabo pushed against Auron's forehead, her eyes intense in concentration as she shaved the corded muscle of his neck, carefully lightening the pressure as she worked across the extension of bone in the middle, then continuing across the other side to finish.
Exhaling in completion, Isabo laid aside the razor then covered her hands in water once more, rinsing Auron's face, then grabbing for a towel from the counter.
Auron opened his eye to gaze at her. This was intolerable. He couldn't allow this to continue for a moment longer. The sight of her bending over him and her touch, had become more than he could bear.
Isabo stepped back as Auron stood and took the towel from her, wiping away the remnants of lather and moisture, then handing it back as he ran a hand down his chin... "Not bad."
"Let me see." Isabo said reaching up, intending to bring her hand to his face.
Auron quickly grasped her wrist, stopping her touch as he searched her face... his eye squeezing closed for a moment then opening once more, its coppery-depths holding a look of hunger, almost frightening in its intensity.
"There's a better way." Auron said, his voice a low, raw force.
Leaning down, he brought his face alongside hers, his jaw moving in a gentle caress against her cheek for a moment, then moving his head again to find her lips with his, tracing lightly across their supple fullness then becoming more ardent, his grip on her wrist tightening as his lips increased their pressure, her head tilting to one side, returning his kiss in full.
And then there was no death, no pain, no sorrow... only this... the sweet yearning press of her mouth, his tongue finding its way past her lips to explore the surfaces within, the long-banked fire of his longing igniting in a rising heat up through his body.
Isabo slowly pulled away, her wrist still encased in Auron's vice-like hold, her face and eyes a luminous flush. She had dreamed of this and now it was real. But she couldn't... shouldn't allow it to go on without telling him. She had thought one or the other of them would have been long gone by now, but here they still were... and somewhere along the way, he had completely stolen her heart.
"Auron, there's something we need to discuss." Isabo said, her voice a low quaver.
"Later." Auron commanded.
He needed. He needed her. Tonight. Now.
Pulling her forward, and slipping one arm around her lower back and the other around her shoulders, his hand coming up behind her head... Auron brought her roughly to him, then lifted her off her feet as he pressed her soft warmth against him, enveloping her in his arms with a powerful urgency.
Bringing her closer still, Auron burrowed in next to her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair, then lowered his head to the junction between her neck and shoulder, running his lips across the silken, pale skin there.
Isabo trembled against him as her hands came up to his hair, her fingers spreading and clutching at his head, her breathing throaty and rapid.
Then she leaned her head back to look into his face, the answers to all his questions in her eyes... as he carried her into the darkness beyond the door.
