Zevran lay still, watching her as she slept. A single ray of sun shone on her scarred thigh, the blankets bunched around her midsection, which is what happened every time Nyla stole the blankets. Zevran smiled, reaching out and running a gentle hand along her arm; at least when he stole the blankets, he was using them.
He wanted to draw her, but he didn't want to pull his eyes away; it wasn't as if he could do the scene any justice. It was already so perfectly embedded in his memory, he could do it later.
"HHnnghh… holy shit." Nyla pulled a pillow over her head, and whined pitifully. "Something is wrong with my everything."
"I suspected you might wake up feeling like hell." He smiled sympathetically.
"Oh my god, please, babe, not so loud." She squinted at him from beneath the pillow. "I think I might be hungover."
"You think?" He chuckled, pulling her close.
"I'm pretty sure. I usually just wake up really thirsty. Now I'm thirsty and my entire face is killing me. My skin is buzzing. I think I might be still intoxicated."
"Yes, sounds like a hangover."
"Can you make it less bright in here?"
"I cannot turn off the sun, and the curtains are closed."
"Fuck me."
"You are in no shape for-"
"Zevran…" Nyla cackled, "Seriously… shhh."
He moved closer to her, caressing her bare back, pleased to have his naked girlfriend waking in his bed, smiling in memory of his indecision of whether or not to remove the garter belt; he had chosen wisely. "Never a hangover, never smoked weed, never tried ecstasy. So innocent!"
"How do you know?" Nyla yawned and her temples throbbed. "Uggh."
"Jenga last night? The 'have you never' game?"
"Oh lord." Nyla groaned. "Oh no. What else am I forgetting?"
"You took your clothes off, I was wearing your bra for a few minutes-"
"That was hilarious." Nyla giggled. "Anders swore an oath to free you if you ever got trapped in my bra again."
"Nyla… your tits were out."
"Oh. Shit." She sighed. "Oh my god. Never. Again. I'm never drinking again."
"I say that when I wake up hungover, as well." Zevran laughed, Nyla cringed at the volume of his voice. "Sorry, amor."
"My entire life hurts. Ohhh my god." Nyla sighed and reached for the bottled water. "I freaked Anders out so much. Poor little shit." Opening the water, she drank nearly all of it. "Protecting my honor," she spoke with a groan. "You weren't wearing a shirt all night, he didn't avert his eyes from you. I should be able to shamelessly strip if I want to. You know, tits should not be this taboo."
"I am inclined to believe he averted his eyes for my benefit."
"Oh! Are you feeling possessive?"
"My girlfriend, my girlfriend's breasts… yes. I feel possessive. I am no cheat, and I don't expect anything less from you."
"Okay first, I really wish I hadn't exposed myself like that in front of your friends while they were clearly uncomfortable. Well, Anders was, anyway. And while I really like that standard, I want you to know I rather enjoy nude beaches. I can comfortably navigate a boundary around that."
"You go to nude beaches?"
"Well, I did until I got scarred. After you finish my tattoo, then I can go again."
"If you wish to go to a nude beach, I wish to go with you. Tattoo looks good, how about I have reception work you in next week?"
"Why don't you call her Emily?"
"Habit, because we know four Emilies. I will text her now."
Reception
Emily
Emily
Emi
Em
E
Hehehe what Zev
Work in a late appointment for my girlfriend next week?
Ur wat?
Girlfriend.
Omg. I'm telling Dorian.
I know. Please don't forget the appointment.
We have a cancellation I think, no prob.
omg zev has a gf - bet i know who it is
Sorry wrong text window thing
Yes it's the scarred girl with the dragon.
Called it, ty.
Ok he said he knew because you're blowing up instagram with your selfies #girlfriend
Also, thurs at 430
Nyla
Zev, darling, I'm here now.
I know, I just took a picture of you texting me.
She looked up, giggled and smiled. Coming toward her, Zevran smirked, reached out, and Nyla took his hand.
"Were you just texting each other?" Emily Laughed, her long dark hair splayed out on the glass counter as she leaned over to look at Zevran.
"Yes!" Nyla smiled, "He has his hair in a bun!"
"I know, right?!" Emily laughed, "Hey, Zevbun, since your hashtag-girlfriend is here, maybe I should do us all a favor and leave early."
"You may leave at six." He winked at her and linked his girlfriend's arm with his. "Please remember to turn on the answering machine."
"Yesss!" Emily withdrew her phone and began frantically tapping away.
Escorting Nyla to his workspace, it felt dreamy to be with her again after four days of being apart. So soft and pretty, smelling so good, wearing no makeup, and there was a distinct absence of loneliness behind her eyes; his girlfriend's smile washed away a very long day of waiting for her.
"I missed you." Nyla spoke softly as they entered his office, and his response was to pin her against the wall and barrage her with kisses.
"Hola, amor," he whispered against her lips, and she shuddered. "Eaten today?"
"Tacos." She whispered, her eyes closed and head leaned back against the wall as his lips brushed her neck.
"Any drugs or alcohol today?" His hand lazily caressed her cheek, thumb drawing a gentle line along her jaw.
Nyla swallowed and licked her lips. "Nothing but Tylenol."
"Drink lots of water?" He bit his lip as her hands ran along his back, pulling him closer.
"I have," she replied softly.
"Are you ready to finish this, amor?"
"Oh yes." Nyla's eyes popped open in excitement and trepidation. Silent, nervous giggles caught her as his nose tenderly brushed against hers. "Oh my god I'm so nervous. It's going to hurt a lot isn't it? And then it'll burn. Fuck."
"No. It will be easier this time." Zevran gave her a soft smile. "And afterward we will go to my place where I have tacos waiting. You will get to see Anders and Leli, because I asked them to be there for you with cheesecake and tea. Then we will sit on the rooftop, and when you are ready we will crawl into my bed and I will bury my face between your thighs until you scream my name. Afterward I will massage you until you drift off to sleep, relaxed and without pain."
Speechless, she melted into him, her face buried in his neck, she wanted to cry, he held her close. "Zevran… Too god damn sweet."
"Not done being sweet yet." He took her hand and lead her to the chair, she sat back comfortably. "Something for you to hold." He picked up a stuffed dragon from hidden behind the chair and handed it to her. He motioned to the bouquet of roses in a vase on the counter. "Something beautiful for you to look at. And one more thing." Removing his phone from his pocket, Zevran plugged it into his speakers. "Do you have a song playing in your mind, amor?"
"American Money. By Borns." She wiped a tear from her cheek. "Excuse me… I'm sorry." She couldn't help it, as she hiccupped with repressed tears. He sat next to her and pulled her close.
"I know how big this is for you." Zevran rested a comforting hand on the back of her head, his fingers brushing through her silky-soft hair. "So you can let go and move forward."
"Yes." She sniffled, smiling and backing away to look at him. "I can't believe it's finally happening… and that it's you."
With a chuckle, he brushed her damp cheek with the backs of his fingers. "That is wild, no?"
"Very." she whispered with a wide smile.
"Let's do it." He purred and nibbled her lip. "Take off your panties."
"I'm not wearing any." Nyla smirked, laid back and lifted her skirt to expose her thigh.
"Awesome." He snapped on some rubber gloves and prepared to tattoo his girlfriend. Muse. Lover. Girlfriend. Canvas. Running his hand along along her thigh, it felt sweet, as he always avoided touching her this way. Wary of making her feel self conscious about it, he always wanted her attention to stay on him and not on something wholly unpleasant. All the same, he was curious, wanted to feel this part of her with his bare hand; maybe someday. Washing her with soap and warm water, he asked "Still scared?"
"Not anymore." Her eyes drifted from the red roses, to the gorgeous man preparing to tattoo her. "Right now I just feel loved."
"Ooh. Be careful, going there." Zevran smirked, settling in close to her.
"Oh, I am." Nyla smiled and held her stuffed dragon close as the needle touched her skin. "The sweetness you have shown, feels so sweet it hurts. So thoughtful. I'm baffled trying to figure out how I am... worthy of all this."
"Worthy?" He furrowed his brow and bit his lip. "Say more."
"I don't know what I did to deserve this."
"I like doing things for you. I like our romance. I take us very seriously. I think about you constantly. Always-" drawing you, painting you. "...thinking of you."
"I am doing something right then?" She asked with seriousness, and he responded with an agreeable hum. "What exactly am I doing right?"
Baffled, he stopped working to look up at her. "You do not know?"
"I'm not entirely clueless, I just want to give you more. I want to know what your language of love is, so I can speak it more fluently." When he went back to work, Nyla cringed a little and hugged her dragon close.
"That what you just did appeals to me, but I can't exactly put words to it. You care about things I would not think of." With a breathy chuckle and a few moments of thought, he glanced up at her, "Alright, amor, I don't quite understand. What does it mean, language of love?"
"Some people feel especially loved when they receive gifts, or favors, or attention, touch, praise. Stuff like that."
"Mmm. I think I understand. I can say I feel closest to you when you are listening to me, and I can feel your care. I feel appreciated and valued as a person." He glanced up at her, to see if she was okay. Her face seemed peaceful, concentrating, and he proceeded tattooing her; it was fun. "And I can say without a doubt, that last Friday night, I had never felt so appreciated before, and my life in general feels… easier. Gentler. I am still grateful."
"What are you grateful for? My listening? My attention?"
"All of these things, and your acceptance. You... held me when I thought you would walk away. I had never felt the hurt so keenly, never had shown it to anyone, never felt so exposed. My trust for you since then has grown exponentially."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." Reaching toward him, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear.
Glancing at her with a chuckle and a smile he teased, "The horror on your own face that first time."
Nyla laughed, resting her cheek against her plush dragon, smiled as the song started over. "Don't pick on me. I almost died."
"Drama." Zevran smiled, wiping blood and ink from her skin. "Let me know if you wish me to change the song."
They were silent for a while, Zevran keeping his attention on his work, and on her. He caught her clenching her jaw a few times, sometimes Nyla watched his busy hands, sometimes she stared at her flowers, sometimes stared at his hair, of course. Zevran reminded her to breathe, and to drink her water.
"Nyla?" He began gently, wanting to approach the subject gently, she responded with an inquisitive hum. "Saturday is the anniversary. "
"You remembered?" She felt a little sick, wished he didn't know; if he hadn't deduced it on his own, she wouldn't have told him.
"Yes… will you spend that day with me, instead of alone? If you are not working."
"I don't know."
"Don't know what?" He stopped tattooing and looked up at her. "If you are working, or if you will spend the day?"
"Either. I don't want to think about it right now. Will you ask me later?"
She seemed so far away from him, and he imagined being alone that day would be painful; he did not want that for her when beautiful things were possible. "How about I wait for you to come to me, with an agreement that you at least check in with me at 3pm on Saturday and tell me how you are feeling."
"If we haven't texted each other a thousand times by then, sure I will." Nyla smiled pushing Saturday from her mind.
"Is it typically a hard day for you?"
"This is only the second, the first anniversary wasn't easy. That was the day I told Fergus I wanted to leave Orange County; he thought I wasn't ready, so I left sooner than I had planned as a fuck you." She chuckled sadly at the memory, "God I am such a bitch. I guess I'll see how this one is… my therapist isn't in office on Saturdays. But… I'll have my finished tattoo, and I have good feelings about it."
"You have friends, too." Zevran reminded her, regretting his gloved hands, wishing he could touch her. He resumed his work.
"That is true, but when I hurt like that..." She sighed and closed her eyes. "It's probably best I stay alone. Nobody wants to watch a grown woman sob like a child."
"Okay, wait." He sat up and put his needle down. "Nyla, where the hell did you learn that?"
Nyla tilted her head at him, "Societal norms?"
"But… nobody? How is it okay for me to sob like a child in front of you, when the inverse is not also true? What am I supposed to imagine you think of me?"
"No babe, it doesn't mean that ." She bit her lip and swallowed, "I wouldn't change a thing. I wanted to be there for you and hold you and I think tears are a good thing, to let it all out."
"But not for you."
"No. Not for me."
"Painful double standard, amor."
"It's not a double standard… the humiliation I feel when I let it all out makes it really bad for me."
"Well…" Zevran sighed and looked closely at her thigh. "I need you to lay all the way back."
"Shit. This part hurt a lot last time."
"If it becomes too much, we can take a break." He settled his arm between her thighs, and he began working at her hip, ridges and bumps slowed him down, but he worked as quickly as he could. "If it ever comes up, I want you to know it is safe to show me your tears, without apology."
"Where did you learn to be that way, Zev? So comfortable being with the upset of others." After a few moments of silence she added, "That's not a typical way to be."
"I find that I like my capacity to do so. It is refreshing to see one be… vulnerable. I do not like this societal norm of holding feelings as if we should all always be happy and nothing else, even though I find myself conforming to it. People actually believe I am unfazeable and I prefer it that way. You know I am not completely unfazeable because I trust you enough to allow you to see that."
"It's about trust, isn't it?" She tried to focus on anything but the needle at her skin. "If I don't show you my world, especially after you showed me yours, it's as if I don't trust you."
"Remember to breathe." He could feel the tension in her body from the pain and he felt a strong desire to make it stop, meanwhile causing it; it was confusing, a little frustrating. "Yes, Nyla. It is about trust. I believe this is closer to my language of love than anything. Trusting me. What about you? Your language of love."
"I don't know anymore. I'm still learning. So far it seems to be quality time and… I don't know anymore. I spent the past two years generally alone. It seems like everything you do feels special. Bringing me flowers and tacos, recruiting your friends for moral support for me. It might sound sad but… everything you do makes me feel special. Any attention I get at all feels… more than I deserve."
"I understand this feeling." Zevran sighed, feeling sad for her; for both of them. "I sequestered myself for a time after Rinna, and leaving my family behind. I did not even say goodbye because I was afraid if I went to them they would be hurt, paranoid that my phone could be traced back to them… After losing so much, it took a few years for me to really let other people close."
"You had to let go of your family? To protect them?" She laid a hand on his cheek and he looked up at her. "You haven't even called them since you left?"
"No. It is a sore spot for me, I do not wish to discuss it here."
"Do you miss them?"
"Yes, Nyla, I miss them terribly. I said I do not wish to discuss it here. It is a sore spot for me," Zevran insisted, hurt in his eyes.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't meaning to…" she stroked his cheek lovingly. "I was just thinking about Fergus and how I don't miss him. I imagine there's something wrong with me, and I was seeking data."
"I see. Sorry I snapped at you."
"It's alright, darling."
Biting his lip, he rested a gentle hand where her thigh met her heat. A practical move, exaggerated by a desire to touch. "Mmm. You are very pretty, you know? With makeup. Without." He shifted his weight to take pressure off of his erection. "Hair up or down."
"Eyeliner streaking down my cheeks." Nyla teased with a shy smile.
"Yes, even then." He chuckled, tilting his head and surveying his work. "Shading is done. Time for another color, amor. Need a break?"
"Nope." Nyla smiled and looked at her thigh. "This is beautiful. Thank you."
"I have a question. A point of curiosity." He watched her face for a reaction. "Ever want kids?"
"Nooooooo…" Nyla spoke immediately, drawing out the word until she ran out of wind. "Nope."
"Wow." Zevran sat stock still, looked up at her with a cringe. "Wow."
"Oh no. You want kids."
"Yes, Nyla. I want several of them. At least five. I'm thinking three girls and two boys, ideally all of them one year apart."
"Oh jesus. You've really thought this one out." She wanted to melt into the chair; of all the answers she had anticipated, this was the worst. Lost in a vision of herself surrounded by four screaming children, one on her hip, one on the way... I could be playing video games, writing, going out dancing, but no - Nyla shook her head. "Yikes."
"I did not know you could become more pale." He smirked, resuming his work, shaking his head with a laugh and a sigh. "Nyla."
"You… you're joking." Her arms went slack from sheer relief. "I… believed every word. Oh my god."
"The abject horror in your face. It was awesome." Wisps of hair tickled his cheeks and he tried sweeping them away with his wrist. Looking toward her, she tucked it behind his ears for him. "Gracias, amor."
"So now that you have given me a fucking stroke, what is your actual answer?"
"I do not wish to have the responsibility, however," Zevran chuckled at her wary gaze, "when I imagine holding my own child, I feel things. I like to imagine a girl, cradling her, soothing her, dressing her in gender neutral clothing to irritate others. I like to think about it, but I have no significant draw toward this vision."
"Zevran, that sounds like a significant draw."
"Hmm." Zevran bit his lip and furrowed his brow. "Perhaps it does, but when I imagine not having it, I feel no sadness."
"Not yet you don't." Nyla shook her head and hid behind her dragon. "Oh god. Future Zevran with baby fever. I can't wait."
"Yes. Then Zevran will coerce you into having his daughter."
"It doesn't work like that." Nyla rolled her eyes, "Dammit, you're fucking with me."
"Mmm hmm." He chuckled. "It's too easy. Nyla's brain scrambles when she discusses babies."
"You think it's so funny. I'm going to be dry for the rest of my life."
Smoldering at her, smirking, he purred, "Ohhh, you think so, mi amore?" He pulled off his gloves and moved toward her.
"I'm going to let that one slide." she cleared her throat and slid back in the chair. "And you have already proven me wrong."
Climbing over her, Zevran slid onto the chair next to her, he lay on his side, draped her legs over his folded knees, wrapping her in his arms. With a contented sigh, he breathed in the familiar smell of her shampoo, her perfume, scents that were distinctly Nyla. "Missed you."
"Did you just seduce me into cuddling?" Nyla smiled and ran her fingertips over his face.
Catching her finger between his teeth he spoke, "Yeth."
"You're adorable." She basked in his play, the ease of being with him. "And I think I get you."
Letting go of her finger he asked curiously, "You think?"
"Yes. Your nature is so inherently flirtatious you can't approach physical touch without it."
"No, Nyla, I am a hugger, and my hugging is not sexual in nature."
"I meant with me." Nyla craned her neck to meet his thoughtful stare. "It's an intimacy barrier. A way for you to get what you need in a way that you know to be safe. So you don't have to be vulnerable."
Closing his eyes, he thought for a few moments and it occurred as true. An intimacy barrier; it felt wrong, he felt sad.
"Hey." Cupping his cheek, she waited for him to open his eyes. "There's nothing wrong with you, love. It's normal to have ways of shying away from vulnerability. I bet if you thought hard enough you could point at my intimacy barriers too."
"You refuse to openly share your sadness for fear of pushing people away." He smiled when she nodded, and he felt better for it, but his desire to change, to pull down barriers, was strong. Meeting her eyes with seriousness, he felt shy and decided to be brave, like his Nyla. "Will you hold me?"
"I would love to." Turning a little more toward him, she wrapped an arm over his shoulder. "Like this?"
"No, amor. More like…" he lifted his body a little. "One arm beneath, yes like that. Other arm around me, but beneath my arm. Yes. Your cheek against my shoulder. Okay now your legs around my top leg." Pressing kisses on her forehead, he sighed and went slack. "Mm hmm," he grumbled contentedly. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
"Perfect. I insist you orchestrate all future cuddling," she sighed happily as his fingers brushed lazily through her hair.
"That looks fun." Emily poked her head in the doorway. "Taking a break?"
"Yes, taking off?" Zevran and Nyla shifted to look at her.
"Yeah. I just wanted to remind you to lock the gate on your way out. You forgot, last time. And…" Emily pulled out her phone and took a picture. "Zevran hard at work. This one is going on the wall."
"Alright. I will remember this at your next yearly review." Zevran responded with a good natured chuckle.
"Sure you will." Emily spoke wryly. "Have a good night."
"Night." They responded to her, and she was gone. They waited to hear the bell on the front door.
"Is she really going to put that picture on the wall?"
"Yes. No big deal. I am probably going to get teased about hashtag-girlfriend, and incredulous statements about Zevran being a cuddler. It's all in good fun. Zevran has no shame."
"Do they really find it so surprising that you would have a girlfriend?" Nyla kissed his lips over and over.
"Didn't you find it to be an impossibility at one time, amor?" He returned her kisses eagerly, fingers in her hair, one hand on her ass pulling her closer. "Did you forget already? Unobtainable hotness? Detached, aloof, snobby..."
"I was wrong." Nyla whispered, pressing her mouth full against his, initiating a mutual satisfied sigh.
"We should… mmm... continue with the tattoo." Zevran pulled away from her eager touch and kisses with much effort. "How is your leg?"
"You know, it does burn but…" Nyla cleared her throat and looked away from his probing eyes. "It's not so bad with you... nearby."
"Shy, Nyla?" Zevran felt himself blushing as he snapped on his rubber gloves. "You don't want to overburden me and scare me away?"
"Exactly."
"Nyla, I challenge you to try to overburden me." He sat down on his stool and prepared to work.
Picking up her plush dragon, she idly played with its wings, biting her lip. "I'll consider it."
"Good. You ready, amor?" He asked with a testing buzz of his needle.
"Yes."
"This is fun for me, when I am not worrying myself of the pain it causes you." He positioned himself to begin.
"See? That right there is precisely why I don't want to burden you. Now if I let my pain be known, I'm taking away your fun."
"That is not what I mean, Nyla." Zevran argued, tilting his head and furrowing his brow at her. "Do you really prefer I have fun while remaining ignorant to your feelings?"
She shook her head, trying to wrap her brain around that he just shifted her entire perspective. "No."
"Neither do I, amor. I am starting now."
"I want you to have fun, Zevran." She reached over and tucked stray strands of hair behind his ears.
"Thank you." He spoke, smiling as he pressed the needle against her skin. "And all I ask in return is you tell me when you need something."
"You just took something seemingly so complex and made it seem like the easiest thing in the world." She wanted to reach out to touch him, but didn't want to throw off his concentration.
"Good." He paused to press his lips to her knee. "I have another question. Completely new conversation."
"Shoot."
He paused to consider how to ask the question. "You were to marry Alistair."
"It's weird to hear you say his name. Does it feel this weird for me to say Rinna?"
"It was the first few times, but not anymore." Looking up at her, she looked relaxed and thoughtful as she watched him work and held tight to her dragon. "Still cannot believe I called you Rinna. Bad enough I had a night terror at your house, I had to call you Rinna. I remember that and internally cringe every time."
"I want something else for you." Nyla watched a stray wisp of hair slip down his cheek as Zevran tilted his head, and she was grateful for an excuse to caress him. "It's not my intent to convince you to feel otherwise, but I want you to know, that I am grateful for what happened as a result of that night. I took the day off. It was a very… productive day."
"Mmm. Productivity." Zevran chuckled, licking his lips in remembrance of his first taste of her. "Very good, amor, but it won't stick."
"Okay, fine," she laughed, "Anyway. You calling me Rinna made sense, given the nature of your dream." Feeling soft for him again, she remembered clearly his panic as he wiped his cheeks with alternating palms. "I was not hurt by your calling me Rinna. Not then, or now."
"I am still sorry you saw that." He shifted to get more comfortable as he worked her skin with his needle. "You see, I had been thinking of when and how to tell you about everything… I think that may be why I had the nightmare. It was very much on my mind."
"That makes sense to me." She reached down with a gentle hand to caress his cheek, he looked up at her with golden-brown eyes. "You are very pretty." She mimicked his accent, "With a bun, without it."
"Getting too good at that." He turned his head and kissed her palm, finding it difficult to look away from her. "I was asking a question. I mean, setting up to ask a question."
"Yes, I was engaged to Alistair. We were going to get married on September 19th of last year." She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Because my busy parents and his busy parents were available."
Looking up at her again, he could see the repressed hurt behind her eyes. Imagining the hope of Alistair's survival followed by the tragedy of his loss felt like a slap, visions of Nyla facing his parents afterward. After taking him on a trip that resulted in his end… Zevran wanted to curl up with her and hold her until the hurt went away forever. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine." Nyla shrugged again, and pet her dragon looking away from his compassionate gaze, before repressing tears became impossible. "What about that? Why did you want to talk about this?"
"Ah. Yes. Is marriage still an ideal? Still something you want?"
"Honestly. I could take or leave it." She shrugged again. "This might be too sensitive topic for me."
"Really? Why?" Zevran kept working despite his desire to stop and give her his attention undivided; he would never finish at this rate.
"I don't know. I think I blew all my excitement on my almost-wedding. We had engagement photos made. I had a dress, invitations were sent. We had so much excitement… my mother planned it all with me, she was excited… she loved Alistair. Everyone did. Fergus and he had gotten so close. He was already part of our family. Our families got along, too. Our dads played golf together. It was… a fairytale. And then one day," she mimicked her brother's voice, "I'm sorry, Nyla. He's gone." She sighed and smiled to slow her heart, held her dragon close to hide shaking hands.
Zevran stopped tattooing and looked up at her. The saddest of smiles graced her lips, and her eyes were on the roses. Her ability to talk about this shit and apparently feel nothing was giving him a headache, and he imagined this was what it was like to be with him on the rooftop as he had looked at anything but her; what was he thinking? Oh yes, she was feeling this shit. "A little at a time you are letting me in, and I thank you for it."
Eyes flicked down to meet his, and she nodded, sad-smiling lips quivering, she sighed. "You are a treasure."
"No, you." Zevran rested his cheek on her knee and smiled up at her playfully. "I did not know the question would be so heavy. I understand that your thoughts on this are complex and difficult to talk about. It is a conversation we do not really have to continue."
"Thank you. May I borrow a pen and paper?"
"Only have a pencil." He sat up and took his gloves off, and handed them to her. She scribbled something down and tore the sheet off in a matter of seconds, handing them back. "That was quick."
"I had a thought I want to elaborate on later." She smiled and folded it up, stuffing it in her bra. "I always miss my journal when I leave it behind." Nyla looked down at the vibrant red ink of her dragon. "Wow. I can't wait to see the finished-" he cut her off with a kiss that brought reality crashing back to her. Zevran, boyfriend, golden hair, sweet touches, passion, amor… I love you.
"I wanted to do that so badly," he purred, brushing her cheek with his fingertips.
"I'm glad you did." She smiled up at him with a happy sigh. "Finish my tattoo, you fucking unicorn."
"Amor, before we continue." He gave her his sexiest smirk. "Studies show both pain tolerance threshold and pain detection threshold increase by 74.6 percent and 106.7 percent, respectively, after orgasm."
Nyla giggled raucously as he moved toward her with a predatory stare. "Did you...did you just memorize that to use it as... some sort of seduction tactic?"
"Mmm hmm." He smirked, biting his lip and parting her thighs; a gentle invitation Nyla eagerly accepted as he settled between them. "It was not difficult to remember, I just had to look at it once. And then I reserved it specifically for tonight. I have been waiting literally weeks to say this, amor."
"So much talking so little- oh my god."
Zevran typically felt glad to send reception home early, given they work her to death; for the first time ever, he regretted it. Now he was responsible for telling his girlfriend the damage. "Total is $2,680.00, amor."
"For just the tattoo or-"
"Nyla!" He chuckled and shook his head. "Thirteen hours at $200 hourly and the rest is supplies and such. That was free, this time. "
"This time." She smiled, handing him a credit card.
Looking at it out of habit, it felt weird, should he have looked at it? Fergus Cousland? Okay, awkward, not her card, but that's her brother…
"He… um… Fergus sent me a card for my buh-" She cleared her throat nervously. "Sort of my congratulatory… healing… Fergus is buying my tattoo for me. He said the cost didn't matter. Is this awkward, Zev?"
"It is a bit awkward. I felt bad telling my waitress girlfriend how expensive I am and…" he sighed deeply and swiped the card through the machine. "I am glad your brother is buying you this gift."
"It makes me feel bad that I never talk to him."
"You don't talk to him? How does he know anything? How did he get your address and send you this card?" The receipt printed and he handed it to her to sign.
Signing the receipt, she automatically left a fifteen percent tip of $402.00. "Well I told him the essentials. You're becoming very bold in your questioning. I like it."
Zevran sighed sadly, stressed out by his girlfriend tipping him most of his $700 monthly rent after paying for an overpriced tattoo he could have done in his own bedroom for free. Awkward, fucking awkward. But no, this was a safer, more sterile environment. "Uuuggh." He stuffed the receipt in the register and closed it a little too vigorously.
"Hey." Nyla spoke softly, reaching for him over the counter. She wrapped her hand gently around the back of his neck. "This isn't that weird. It's alright."
"Okay, amor." He sighed, relaxing under her touch. The sound of a car horn caught his attention, and he smiled, excited for her reaction. "Ride is here."
"Oh?" Nyla turned around and went toward the door, the subtle movement intensified the burn in her leg. She soon forgot about it when she saw them through the glass waving frantically at her, Anders holding a bunch of balloons in his hand. She smiled broadly and dashed out the door. "Lelianders!"
With a wicked glare and pursed lips, Leliana reached up and popped one of the balloons. "Nyla."
"Leliana, where are your manners!" Anders chided her playfully, holding the balloons in the hand farthest away from her.
Nyla couldn't withhold the laughter as she went toward Leliana with open arms, and she was met with a warm hug. "I have no idea how you just did that but it was amazing. Thanks for coming." She moved to hug Anders and he met her with equal warmth.
"You alright, Sketchy?" He pet her head. "So tiny."
"Dammit, Anders!" Nyla laughed. "I'm fine! Let me go!"
"But the tiny hugs."
"I'm not fucking tiny, I'm average height!"
"What are you like, 5 foot nothing?"
"I'm 5'3, tall asshole!"
"National average is 5'5." Leliana added, reaching over to pet her back with both hands. "So little."
"Fuck!" Nyla raged, laughing at how ridiculous it was that their teasing was actually getting to her.
"Okay." Zevran chuckled, pulling her gently away from Anders' grasp. "Pop a few more of those balloons so we can all fit in the car."
The task of fitting all people and balloons in the car proved more taxing, and provided more laughter than Nyla could have ever hoped for. A mylar balloon originally stating "It's a Girl" crudely altered with blue marker to read "It's a Sketchbook Girl" bounced off her head for the entire drive to Zevran's place. With such quality entertainment, who has time to freak out over a little leg pain, she reminded herself over and over.
Tacos, cheesecake, tea, orange juice, her roses in the middle of the table, dragon in her arms, roommate shenanigans… this is fun. It only burns for now and it's not because of fire.
"I hate to leave the fun but I have studying to do." Anders stood up, putting his dishware in the sink.
"Get back there and wash your dishes." Leliana chuckled, looking at Nyla, "Seven years of reminders."
"I forget when I'm in a hurry." Anders huffed.
"Always in a hurry, then?" Zevran teased.
"I have an exam tomorrow, the hurrying is real this time!"
"Thanks for using some of your study time to hang out, tall asshole." Nyla smiled at him, and he turned around, smiling back at her.
"My pleasure, Sketchbook Girl. Zevran told us how big this was for you." Anders ruffled her hair as he passed her on his way to the fridge. "Wouldn't miss it."
"Are you pulling an all-nighter?" Leliana watched him closely as he went toward his room with an energy drink in hand.
"Possibly." He shrugged. "I hope not, just depends on how long it all takes, I suppose."
"Need help?" Leliana asked earnestly. "I can quiz you."
"I think you would be up too late by the time I'm finished with the chapter, but thanks."
"I didn't ask how late I would be up." She sighed, shaking her head. "Let me know if you change your mind."
"Thanks, you're awesome." He went into his room and shut the door.
"There's cereal for breakfast and I'll pack you a lunch for tomorrow. Is tuna okay?" She called out, a muffled "Yes, Leli, thank you!" Sounded from the other side of the door.
"You really take care of each other, huh?" Nyla smiled.
Leliana rolled her eyes. "Not now, Nyla."
"No, I mean, this isn't a Lelianders thing. I'm glad you have each other, regardless of context." She sipped her tea.
"Thanks." Leliana relaxed visibly and nodded casually with a smile. "Me too."
The sudden silence in the room after Anders' exit amplified the burning of her thigh, and Nyla gently reminded herself why it burned, and that she was safe; for the fourth time Zevran rested a gentle hand on her knee to stop her leg from bouncing.
"Okay, amor?"
"Tired. Very tired." She rested her hand on his, lacing their fingers together. "But I'm okay."
"Go on up to bed I'll clean up the mess." Leliana offered gently. "Unless you wanted to go home? I can drive you home."
"I am keeping her tonight, Leli, thank you." He stood, holding tight to her hand and Nyla followed his lead.
"I need a cigarette." Nyla sighed.
"I keep forgetting that you smoke. Zevran, doesn't that bother your asthma?"
"Asthma?" Nyla blinked in surprise, tilting her head at him.
With an inward cringe, Zevran responded calmly, "No, I am never with Nyla in close quarters when she smokes."
"I smoke in my place all the time." Her eyes went wide.
Realizing what just happened, Leliana smiled apologetically, "Okay. Got it. Night!"
Once in the quiet confines of Zevran's room, Nyla crawled onto his bed to lay on her back, sinking into the plush comforts of his blankets. "I would have liked to have known about your asthma."
"It is not a big deal. It becomes problematic when I am exposed to certain irritants."
"Like cigarette smoke?" She spoke pointedly. "Every time you put distance between us when I light up, I thought it was the smell you were averse to. I would have like to have known."
"It does not occur to me as a cause for concern. People smoke everywhere, I am accustomed to avoiding it."
"Do you have an inhaler?"
"Yes, I keep it on me. Usually in the inside pocket of my jacket." He pulled off his shirt and rested his hands on his hips.
"Then it is a cause for concern."
"Angry with me, amor?"
"No." She bit her lip and stared at his bare chest.
"Zevran's eyes are up here." Not a chuckle or a smile from her in response, but when her eyes met his, he asked again, "Are you angry with me?"
"No." Her lips quivered as she tried to force a smile. Lying motionless on his bed, her leg throbbed and burned. Where's mom, Fergus? She shook her head
"Do you wish to go smoke outside the window?" He approached her, sitting next to her. When she didn't answer, he probed again. "Something is wrong?"
"No, no I'm not mad at you, please." Fergus, where's mom? She shook her head,again. "Please just… stop." I'm not on fire. I'm literally not on fire! Why is this happening? I want my mom.
"Hey." He spoke gently, beginning to catch on when she shifted her skirt to expose only her bandaged leg to open air. "Nyla, I am not sure what I am doing to cause you upset." When he laid a gentle hand on her arm she pulled away to cover her face with her hands. Zevran looked on helplessly as his overwhelmed Nyla put all her efforts into shutting down, and shutting him out. He thought for a few moments and spoke playfully, "Hey girlfriend, I have an idea."
"What's that?" With a deep sigh, a few moments later she pulled her hands from her face. "An idea?"
Her smile did not seemed forced, and he smiled back with a nod. "Yes. It will be fun. Watch me, but do not move. Stay comfortable."
"Oh?" She giggled, intrigued, thankful for the distraction, she watched him get up and cross the room.
"I keep my acrylics in this case over here." He picked up a large plastic box from the corner by his easel, and placed it by the bed. "I like acrylics best because they dry quickly. While oils are lovely, sometimes I just want to fucking paint, and not wait."
"You are passionate about this." She chuckled with a smile.
"Mmm hmm." He nodded excitedly. "Sometimes I get a vision in my mind or I see something I love, and I have a burning need to put it on canvas. Or paper."
"If I equate that with writing, it get's to be very frustrating when something is stopping me."
"Oh yes," he nodded emphatically.
"Does it ever come out wrong and you throw it away and start over?" She relaxed more; more easily filtering out the burning sensation as she connected with him.
"I paint over the canvas with white to start over, but it is a rare occurrence for me." He walked over to his brushes stored haphazardly in jars. Selecting a few, he spoke softly, "I just so happen to love my own work." Grabbing a pallette and a painting knife, he returned to her and sat on the side of the bed.
"An artist that loves his own work?" She rested a gentle hand on his thigh. "That is remarkable."
"So I hear." He met her eyes and brushed his hand along her stomach, sliding her black, boat-neck t-shirt up to expose her soft skin; Nyla merely watched with interest. "Mmm," he hummed gently, staring at the smooth, white belly of his muse, girlfriend, lover… the woman he was often convinced he loved with every fiber of his being.
"Hey!" Nyla laughed happily. "Are you going to paint me?"
"Mmm hmm." Seeing her wide smile, he felt the relief of having her close again; interesting how she allowed him to see her unabashedly happy, openly admit her frustrations and concerns, tell him her deepest secrets, and still shut him out when she clearly needed someone. "The most beautiful canvas."
"Oh, stop," she spoke playfully, patting his leg. "Actually, don't stop. I'm listening."
He bit his lip and spoke seriously, with a hint of playfulness, "This canvas is also quite sexy. Hmm. A very emotionally intelligent canvas," he stared at her belly, reaching within himself for inspiration, to know what to paint on his perfect canvas. "Those the canvas allows near her love her very much, and…" he tilted his head, his hand worshiping the soft contours of his perfect canvas with gentle touches, "the canvas is very guarded, does not accept offers of love when it is sorely needed."
It occurred to Zevran abruptly, a moment from when he was so small, and he hadn't thought of it in so long.
'What happened to her, mamá ?'
'I am not sure, perhaps she has lost her mate? It is possible a swan will die of a broken heart.'
'Oh no… swan. Could she not find a new one? Then she wouldn't die?'
'I don't know. If she can find one who will love her and help her grieve, perhaps? Do not be troubled, preciosa. Look on the water! There are many living, happy swans on the water.'
Mamá had no idea how badly that story would fuck with me, he smiled at his memory of searching the water for lone swans, wondering if they had lost their mates, his young mind frantic for a way to match one lonely swan with another so none of them would ever lie dead in the grass of a broken heart.
"The canvas has a broken heart." He whispered dreamily and opened his box of paints; his canvas needed a swan. Perhaps two. Yes. Two together would make her smile.
"Okay, I wasn't ready." Nyla laughed, nudging him out of his reverie. It was her whispered apology that had him look up to see her silent tears.
Her hands lifted, Zevran imagined, to cover her eyes and he caught them gently, graced them with a few gentle kisses, and with a soft smile he placed them by her sides.
"No te inquietes, preciosa." Do not be troubled, precious, he spoke softly. "Why have I never painted a childhood memory before?" Mixing blue, a little green, just a touch of orange, he prepared the color of water from his mind's eye.
Brush strokes didn't tickle ask Nyla had expected. Cool paint on her skin soothed and distracted her from the thrumming heat of her leg on fire. Weeping silent tears, she beheld the beauty of an artist at work; skilled hand moving in swift, calculated, graceful flicks and strokes. Zevran the artist got lost in his element, his art, whispering intermittently in Spanish, and it made her smile.
It wasn't at all like watching him tattoo her. His concentration was keen, immersed in his world with a dreamy stare, and when he reached up to sweep away wisp of hair he left a swipe of white paint across his cheek which made her smile bigger. Laughter carried up to them from downstairs.
"That doesn't sound like studying." Nyla sniffled with a tearful giggle. "I'm s-sorry." She stammered through brief, hiccupping sobs, overwhelmed by the sweetness of just being in their home, being her lover's canvas. Laughter in the distance had always been precious to her; a common sound in the background of her childhood, made bittersweet by the loss of everyone she loved.
"Well, amor, Anders retired to his room, and as always, Leliana sat quietly in the living room to read a book, so as not to make noise and disturb him. After a time he emerges to see her sitting there and he retrieves his book. He will sit a respectful distance from her. Silence occasionally disrupted by their playful chatter. I have watched them do this for years."
"So they have always been like this? Always close, but never lovers?"
"Mmm hmm. I believe they would do well in a romance with each other, but what I believe does not matter." He sat up and reached for another tube of paint. "What matters is that they are happy."
"Do you think they're happy, Zev?"
"No, amor. They are missing out." He looked up at her. "Romance is the most beautiful thing, and they both crave it, and keep each other from it unwittingly."
"How do you know? Maybe they are happy as friends."
"Because when one seeks romance apart from the other…" he grew silent for a moment as he reached for a smaller paintbrush and lay close to her. He dipped his brush in black pigment with a satisfied sigh. "The other will feel fear for the heart of the other, have a strong desire to protect the other from pain. Always they come home to each other, world-weary expressions melt away, and their smiles return. They do not know how to not love each other."
"I believe you, Zevran." She reached up to wipe her tears away. "What do you think will have them realize it someday? Or at least one of them. Jesus."
"Honestly?" He smiled and chuckled at himself. "One will have to actually lose the other in a very real way, so they can look back in regret, realizing what had been right there the whole time."
"I hope you're wrong." Nyla's lips quivered, "I hope they don't need to lose it all to realize what they had. Fuck. God know's I'm trying so hard not to cry right now, I'm so sorry."
Putting down his brush and pallet, he moved to lie next to her.
"Zevran, shit. I'm sorry. Am I ruining this for you?"
"It is finished." He smiled, kissing her. "You are a divine canvas."
"That seemed to go by so fast."
"Divine canvas is tiny." He smiled, and he knew she didn't have it in her to stare daggers at him.
"I'm not tiny." She returned his kisses with a helpless chuckle, "Zevran, I'm not tiny. Can I look at your painting now?"
"Maybe." He sat up and looked at her belly. "Aah. Yes. It is dry. I love how fast acrylics dry!"
He hopped up, his feet landing silently on the wooden floor of his room. Reaching a hand out, he gently helped her up and guided her to the full length mirror affixed to the wall not far from his bed. Standing behind her, he whispered, "let me," and pulled her shirt up and over her head, careful not to scuff the paint.
"Ohhh." Nyla crooned, staring at his art - herself - in the mirror. Two swans together on the water, the sun shining down on them, peaceful, facing each other, their graceful necks forming the shape of a heart. "A childhood memory?"
"Mmm hmm. Mamá took me to see the swans often when I was very small. Until going to see swans with Mamá was no longer cool." His hands rested gently on her waist, and his nose nuzzled sweetly against her neck. "Going to see the swans is cool again, though."
"You had never painted a childhood memory before." She watched him in the mirror and he shook his head. "It's so beautiful. And now it's just going to wash away… Zevran," her chest quivered with a tearful sigh, "your art."
"No amor." He hushed her gently, resting his chin on her shoulder. Meeting her eyes in the mirror he smiled a smile reserved just for her. "It is just paint. You are the art."