Numair tried to control his breathing. He could feel his fingernail's break the skin on his palms, and tried to loosen his fists. He couldn't. He knew he shouldn't be here, sitting on the floor beside the wash basin she was currently half submerged in, but he didn't get up to leave. He couldn't. He wanted to say something, but...he couldn't.
Her dark curls tumbled over the back of the wood basin, as her head lulled back, eyes closed. He wished she would open them. He needed to see them, to reassure himself that there was still life in them.
He had come close to losing her many times since the start of this war. It wasn't that those times had been less devastating to him, but the adrenaline of battle had seemed to act as an emotional buffer. Today had been different. She had fallen out of the sky. He closed his own eyes and then rapidly opened them, as the image of her losing her shape replayed on the back of his eyelids. He felt the tears escape, and thanked Mithros that he was a silent crier, and that her eyes were closed.
He felt her thumb graze the back of his neck, bath water rolling down his spine. "Numair?" her voice was gentle, even with its undercurrent of panic. He kept his eyes closed, his mouth still refusing to speak. "Numair? Please..." There was a tremble in her voice that broke his resolve. His own words came out harsh.
"Did you want to die?" He heard her inhale, but didn't let her speak. "I can't think of why else you would do that?" her hand dropped from the back of his neck, and he turned to face her for the first time. Her blue-grey eyes flashed with hurt, but were soon masked with her unique form of stubborn anger. It spurred him on, overpowering his initial fluster at the awareness of her naked form. "You don't ever learn Daine..." he purposely avoided using any term of endearment, wanting her to understand his anger. "Its like the dolphins all over again. You can't seem to understand that what you do with your magic has consequences." His voice cracked, and the damp of tears appeared on his cheek.
Her blue-grey eyes softened as they trailed the tear tracts, and she reached her hand up out of the bath water to wipe them away. He flinched away from her touch, not trusting his self control "Numair, I didn't die." She said it in that matter of fact tone she used when she was exasperated, ever the realist .
"You broke your wrist!" The candles in the room flickered, almost extinguishing, at the reverberation of magic in his voice.
"And Duke Baird promptly healed it." She rolled her eyes as if he was being utterly ridiculous in his concern.
"Do you want to leave me?" his words came out soft, exhaustion overwhelming the anger, as his tears continued to fall. " Magelet , if...if anything happened to you, I..." he paused, unable to put voice to his deepest fears. He rested his forehead against the side of the tub. He felt her hands thread into his hair, bathwater from her fingers moistening his scalp.
"I'm not going to leave you Numair." Her lips brushed his hair as she leaned down beside him. He closed his eyes again, determined not to give in and forgive her. Yet, he felt his anger fading away as she murmured to him soothingly. He reached up, grasping her right hand and squeezing hard. He heard the sharp intake of breath, and knew that her wrist was hurting her. He loosened his grip, turning his face and kissing the underside of her wrist. Her pulse raced under his lips.
"I can't heal Sweet." His voice felt heavy and he dropped her hand in shame. "If we weren't in Corus..."
"I trust you Numair." The hand still tangled in his hair tugged, making him glance up at her. Her eyes flashed steel grey. Hers was the voice filled with anger now. "I don't need you to heal me, and you aren't responsible for what happens if I get myself killed." He opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head. "You're my best friend Numair, my pack. I won't ever leave you willingly. You should know that."
He raised his head, averting his eyes from where her breast threatened to break through the surface of the water. "I shouldn't be here." The words came out stunted, there was no conviction in them. He bent his head back down against the basin, folding her hand into his own. He could feel her shrug.
"But you are here Numair, and that's more than I deserve..." she squeezed his hand, her lips brushing against his hair again. "It's more than enough."
