As usual, lots of Aspen and faeries in general. I was going to add 3 faerie ones and 3 Institute ones but I could only think of 1 Institute scenario so I didn't feel like working to think of 2 others.

-Closeness-

He was sure the bruises would stay for an excruciating while, his ribs aching from where the hoof of the horse clipped him when it bucked.

It wasn't often a horse startled, but Leif never shied away from them even after they had proven their wild side time after time. The mare whinnied as he stretched out an arm to comfort it, his fingers carefully outstretched. They were much easier to communicate with than people. They used no hidden words, the complexity of whatever thoughts they had complimenting the language of their gait. Animals were honest, Leif found, because they had no reason to lie. Not like faeries, who often concealed their true feelings with more sinister ones. No, the horses were incapable of evil and he wondered if people were ever unburdened as such.

Whinnying, the mare seemed to startle from his hand, snorting in panic as a strong gust of wind stirred the field. It had been agitated all morning, avoiding his care and neighing angrily when any other horse grew near. Pained, Leif drew back his hand and pressed it to his side instead, wincing at the ache. His hair whipped in his face and he was quick to reach for a tie to gather it up and away from his eyes.

Clicking his tongue to get its attention, he took a careful step forward.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he pleaded quietly, wincing at the sight of an Unseelie brand on the horse's side and he figured it must have been a war horse for the Unseelie Knights. Burned and etched. The profile of a hawk. There were no such hunting birds in the Seelie or the Hunt, not that Leif knew of anyway. After all, he was sure the Seelie Queen would prefer something more elegant and beautiful, but just as lethal and terrifying and the Hunt only utilized wolves and horses.

The horse shook its head in protest as he grew near, trying to ignore the throb in his side. It had only happened a few times before but he never could bring himself to blame their actions. It was him, of course, for being too comfortable around them and assuming the same about them.

"That's it," he encouraged as the horse calmed.

Slowly.

The mare only wearily nickered as he approached for what felt like long seconds, minutes, hours, days, and Leif assumed it hadn't been treated with any respect since it was either let go from the Unseelie, or since it escaped. He bit his lip in concentration. Footsteps so light - silent on the grass.

"You're okay," he breathed, finally close enough to touch the mare's forehead, reaching up to drag his fingers through the front of its mane. "I won't hurt you. They'll be good to you here."

He kept up the quiet phrases, convinced it gained the trust of the animals to be spoken to in low reassuring tones. Gingerly, he walked over to run a hand down the horse's neck, glad that he had managed to subdue its temper. It merely snorted, softly this time, and Leif let himself smile, just a fraction, at his success. He kept near it, protectively. His presence was a guard.

With all the horses, he stayed close. He was patient. Kind like that.

Aspen assumed he had been a few weeks shy of his sixteenth birthday when he had started to pull away from the group, unsure if he was foolish to accept Nyx's harsh words or foolish to deserve them in the first place. The others stayed quiet, their eyes lingering on the flecks on his skin and the swish of his cloak as they kept their mouths shut. The days weren't all bad, especially when Nyx treated them to halls in the hotels, used to roaming the forest or staying in the backrooms of taverns.

There had been this one boy that had been a year or two older and he called him Rei, although they hardly spoke and Aspen could not even be sure if that was his name for it was such a quick mutter, he did not know if he caught the correct words. He was lanky and skittish, at least a few centimeters shorter and even more so when he kept his head tilted down as he slipped through the trees, rooms, streets, and alleys.

Aspen had only seen him curled up next to the few girls in the group and he was always sleeping - at least his eyes were always closed.

His presence was always chilling and odd and even more uncomfortable now that Aspen was suddenly aware that he was being followed in the hotel hall. Rei pretended not to notice him, a glint of a knife in his hand, and Aspen walked a little faster.

"Wait-"

His voice was a breath and Aspen glanced over quickly knowing that Nyx had taken his own swords, backing away when Rei approached him with the silver blade.

Handle extended.

"You left it-" Rei murmured, his head tilted down. "The bar."

Aspen was quiet. Confused. He reached forward tentatively to take the knife, only to startle when Rei raised his chin to look up at him.

There was a question in Rei's expression, his lashes fluttering as he blinked quickly in nervousness. As if to not startle him, the odd faerie let his hand trail up Aspen's arm at first before moving to brush his hair back. His fingertips grazed Aspen's cheek, and they were cool and light, nothing like Nyx's demanding, gloved hands, pulling at Aspen, shoving his face to get a better look at him or avoid seeing him. Aspen stood there, too shocked to pull away and pressed against the wall anyway, and then Rei tipped his face up and waited.

Just waited. Too hesitant to push Aspen into it, his fingers resting lightly behind Aspen's ear instead of just pulling him down. Rei smelled different, a little like Nyx but lighter, not so dark, warm and close. Aspen stood there, hand still tight around the knife as he brought his mouth down to meet Rei's.

Nyx would kill him.

Rei answered, tentative but just enough pressure to keep Aspen there. His mouth was cool, open and soft as Aspen pressed into him, needing the comfort of returned affection. Needing someone, needing to be held without being held down.

Nyx had been so angry and jealous as of recent events and Aspen called it concern, but the word "pretty" hardly escaped Nyx's lips anymore and his current situation was suddenly more cramped than before.

Aspen reached past Rei, sliding away from him just enough to free himself and stand a meter away in the hallway, and waited to see if Rei would follow him.

Rei didn't say a word when they slipped into one of the rooms, or kissed, or when Aspen stopped to take shaky breaths and push away the disorientation of catching Nyx's smell on the pillows. Rei just stopped, stroking Aspen's shoulder, and didn't pressure him or move until Aspen kissed him again.

Aspen slipped under the covers afterwards for the first time in days as Rei curled against him with his head on Aspen's chest. It was disorienting, like lying there with a smaller, softer version of Nyx. The comfort of having someone close without Nyx's smell, or his bullying, or his scrutiny. The comfort of having someone without having to think about if they were going to snap.

He thought it might have been the first time he hadn't worried about someone's motives and he hadn't felt coerced into anything. With someone as strange as Rei, of all people. It was a strange concept, the idea that someone's presence could be welcoming and not oppressive or necessary.

Aspen had expected him to get up and leave afterwards, like Nyx had the one time - the only time - they'd slept together when he was angry, but Rei stayed the night, rearranging himself quietly whenever Aspen shifted. Didn't say anything when Aspen woke them both up during a nightmare of being ripped open with a cold blade. Just stayed close until morning and then he was gone.

Ethos had never considered that May girl to be a particularly close friend, but she always asked him to play his piccolo and she was surprisingly hard-headed, always nagging him about things. He wondered silently if he was the only one that could put up with her so patiently and diffuse her excitement, deciding that, that was why she always flocked to him.

She was very fond of everyone and often kissed his cheek and her friend's cheeks and grabbed their hands to twirl them around. Ethos would have called it careless, but it was the way of some Seelie, especially the ones with no jobs who simply lived to enjoy their lives.

Now, she was asleep with her head in his lap and he sighed, setting his piccolo down on the ground next to him to rest his arms. She had just been yapping on a moment earlier about the dances and finding him - and everyone else - a partner to dance with. Though he fended off her advances of assistance, she was increasingly stubborn, talking on about all the people she had danced with before. May was always going on about things he didn't understand and he found that when he allowed himself to speak about something he thought of, she didn't understand him either. Others seemed to be so happy, too happy, to latch onto the nearest person for comfort, but he found it more than difficult.

Every now and again, though, he did like to imagine what being close to someone would be like. To be good friends or to court someone - those were strange ideas.

He had never kissed anyone and he thought about it a little more than he thought he should have. It was not an idea of anticipation, but rather one of anxiousness. In his thoughts, he could only think that it was something that happened by chance and he hoped that when it should happen, he would not mind the person that did it.

He had never found any Seelie he considered his good friend, even if his protectiveness and devotion to the Seelie made him out to be a lover of all the people. People were friends with him, he knew, but he wasn't entirely sure how to become close friends with them as if he had pressed his hands against the glass barrier, only to see it splinter but never break.

Looking down at May, he exhaled patiently, deciding he would wait for her to wake up to move. He was always waiting for things, really, usually unsure of what he was waiting for. When he finally found it, he assumed he'd know. And when he did, he promised to curl his fingers in its cloak, rest his forehead on a forgiving shoulder, and hold it close, waiting until his instincts finally ceased to resist.