20 Themes of Beka/Rosto
Disclaimer: I don't Own Anything
Opposites
They were opposites. It was Beka's excuse as to why they would never work, but Rosto was firm in his beliefs that opposites attract.
Cool
No matter how cold and distant she was towards him he never ceased grinning like an idiot, and telling her just how much he appreciated her words.
Distance
They were a distance apart. Rosto could just see her, on the edge of his vision and it was enough to comfort him, knowing that she was in his eye sight.
Drugs
She was like a drug. No matter what happened he needed her and if he let her go he'd die.
Healing
She was also his healer. When his temper wounded someone and he regretted it, she was like a salve. She was calm and collected and she kept those icy eyes at bay.
Conflict
Their jobs did come into conflict and he hated it. It proved her point. It wasn't that he wanted to protect the fool that had stabbed a dog, but it was that he had to. It was his laws and he followed them even if it pushed them apart even just a bit.
Need
Beka didn't like admitting she needed him. She wanted to be completely independent and that proved impossible after meeting Rosto.
Never
Her stubbornness was a challenge. Never was a word she uttered often but Rosto was determined to get around that. It was after all a meaningless word in his eyes.
Moods
His moods proved to be hard to be sure of. One day he could the happiest man alive, the next the angriest or the most depressed. His entire self also remarked on these moods. If he was standing tall and pride he was angry. If his shoulders were slumped and his head down he was sad, and if his gait was quick and had a slight skip in it he was quite pleased. Usually when he was pleased it was with himself and sometimes it proved him to be quite irritating. Non-the-less, Beka enjoyed his moods for it gave her time to torment, sympathizes or just plain tease him.
Growl
He knew she was like a dog. She was fierce and loyal and like the dog she had a fiercer bite then growl.
Thieves
Thieves didn't bother her. She had once been considering the life of being a thief but had in fact stayed away for her mother's pride. Thieves were nothing but easy catches. It was murderers and kidnappers and other fiends that irritated her. That was one reason her conscious told her Rosto was halfway decent. He didn't murder unnecessarily and he never did things that others did. But her foolish pride kept her at bay with those thoughts.
Ice
She hated ice. She slipped, and stumbled and cursed. It was one afternoon that Rosto caught her as she fell and she felt more then gratitude towards him.
Kiss
She didn't mind kissing him. It wasn't that she didn't like him, she surely did. It was that she had a promise and Beka did not break her promises. She promised herself never to fall for a rusher and she'd be certain to follow that.
Easy
She was easy to love in his mind. She was likeable, had justice in her mind, fair, and never treated the lowest beggars badly. She understood them and she was affection when it pleased her to be so. Yes, she was easy to love but hard to get to love back.
Confidence
She knew he wasn't cocky. Oh no, he wasn't cocky nor was he unsure of himself. In fact, sometimes she found him too confident and enjoyed knocking himself off his high horse.
Laughter
His laughter was bright; it was like a ray of light, a ray of hope when things were so dark and bad that she didn't want to rise from her lifeless sleep.
Her laughter was like bells. It was a wake up call, telling him that it was a sunny happy day. It was like a fire so bright and warm that it made him stand from his cold but content seat and stand near it even if he was weary.
Weary
He was weary of the Rouge. She was weary of it too. They were weary for different reasons. He for they were rowdy and always cheerful and her because it made her work more difficult then it had to be.
Silk
Not for all the silk in the world, he knew, would she trade her job. He admired and loved that about her for it showed that she'd rather pit through mud, chase criminals that spat at her and fall on her back everyday then dress in silk, drink tea, and talk with a refined manner. Just like him.
Puppy
They called her a puppy. He agreed with that name for her. Like a puppy, she was loyal, friendly but wary, and warm. He didn't agree with the inexperienced part. Out of all the dogs in the Provost's command, she was the most experienced when it came to Rushers. Had she not grown up to almost be one?
Breaking
"I don't like breaking promises," she whispered. He understood that it was her admitting her mutual love for him.
"Then don't break it. You're not loving a rusher, you're loving a King," he whispered back grinning at her before kissing her. All Beka could do was agree with him.
A/N: I'm not so sure about these haha. I tried to make them more of a Rosto pov because I've noticed that most of the beka/rosto's out there are centered around her and him loving her rather then him loving her and her pulling back. But, you can form your own opinion on that ).