pineslog | closed ❅ there were monsters beneath our bed.

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closed ❅ there were monsters beneath our bed.

Who: ~~snowflake~~ elsa & ~~behemoth~~ gladio.
Where: gladio's house.
When: july 5.
What: on top of everything, elsa's remembered something tragic and seeks some solace.
Warnings: death talk, grossness, more-than-friends stuff.
[Closed]

[ there is comfort to be found in routine and elsa has known this for a while. but when the routine isn't really what she has done for years and she can't remember what her real day-to-day was like, needless to say she feels rudderless in the water. but that is only the tip of the iceberg.

at least – at the very least – jyn has made a miraculous recovery after the attacks. though they have not known each other for very long, elsa has quickly come to care for her roommate and living in that empty space by herself did not suit her at all. nothing has helped her processed all that has transpired and elsa has not done much to deal with it other than letting the information sink in, listening in on conversations, reading over some of the posts online. it doesn't make it seem any more tangible.

magic, she believes, is something she must know but this goes beyond her realm of understanding, the science too advanced.

she barely sleeps after a day of attempting to help clean up, listening to others speak without responding much herself, internalizing her thoughts as she usually does. it's at night that it manifests in colder room temperatures ( that she tries to keep contained to her bedroom alone ). sometimes she'll care for the still nameless bunny they adopted, petting his long brown fur, and sometimes she'll simply putter about the house or read with a flashlight beneath her covers like she might have done as a child.
a chlid growing up here anyway.

but in the dead of the night, she opens her eyes to find herself crying, tears running down the sides of her face with her lips twitching uncomfortably into a frown.

no. oh no.

her steps are light as she wordlessly opens the door of the house to get to her bicycle, matching pajama shorts and buttoned top still on, and pedals her way to the first place she thinks of. elsa barely takes a moment to gather herself, her cheeks still damp as she lightly rings gladio's doorbell. the bike rests against the side of the house and she waits for him to open the door. it is unlike her, acting so impulsively, but she'll cling for a moment to those false memories and hopes ( no, she knows ) he won't mind that she has in this instance.

the only difference, really, is that this time she's brought a bit of snow. ]

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[ how does one begin to even talk about this identity crisis anyway? one day, she was a normal lady with a job at the bank, living in a house with a roommate and suddenly she's this magical being who grew up in a place that seems to far from here, a place by the sea with dignitaries and mountains and parents who sail away and don't come back. one is the truth, she understands that now, but so much of that false life meant something to her.

but that doesn't mean, she supposes, that they cannot mean anything to her now.

her body is especially small next to his, only coming up to his shoulder when they're both standing up straight, but she takes comfort in this difference, in the way she feels all wrapped up in him, shoes kicked off with her whole self curled up on the couch like she was meant to be there.

and that kiss on her cheek – she has to come back to that, but right now she's looking up at him, bewildered and anxious, a mild tremor in her normally even tones. ]

I don't remember. [ elsa opens her mouth slightly, no words coming out for a long moment. ] It will surely return but it's. I – I don't know anything. I hate not knowing so much about myself and I'm sure so many others feel the same way. [ in a way, it feels as if she has backpedaled over miles of growth. ]

( there are still some things that don't seem all that clear when it comes to who ( and what ) he was with regard to … everything else, but they're coming back to him in the smallest increments, and he isn't sure whether he would prefer it to hit him all at once or. like this. because it's always going to feel like he's missing out on something when he can't fill in the blanks, but that's neither here nor there.

their memories might be fake. but. if they're willing to take those memories and make something of them? hell, he's not about to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth.

that kiss is inadmissible right now, and they can revisit it anytime they like — but he doesn't keep himself from cupping her cheek, on the small chance that it might offer some measure of comfort in the long run, his forehead pressed to hers in the interim as the pad of his thumb brushes over the line of her jaw. ) It will. It has to. They can't keep everythin' from us forever. ( he pauses, silent, for a couple of seconds. ) What can I do? In the meanwhile.

I know you.

[ oh no. it feels like she's going to burst into tears all over again and she hates that even more than she hates sitting in the dark while someone else controls everything around them. a few droplets linger on her lashes and don't yet trickle down her cheeks. that doesn't stop her from sweeping the tips of her fingers beneath both eyes to try to clean herself up. her hands find purchase on his shoulders, forehead still against his though she closes her eyes to settle that chill that has risen within her. ]

In some shape and form, I do know this. A-and all that I do know in this very moment is that I. [ a nervous laughter cuts through her sentence. ] If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here with you.

[ of course he doesn't mind, elsa. you're already on his couch. still, it doesn't hurt to be polite. that much feels like her in any timeline. ]

( the thought of her crying — at all, let alone sat somewhere in the dark without anyone at all to console her, and he thinks for the second or third time since he'd let her inside that he's glad she'd thought to come to him, because even if he doesn't know what to say to smooth things over, he can, at the very least be a solid presence next to her. the notion that she is not ever going to be alone as long as he's breathing.

her eyes are closed, but his don't dare move from her face, watching for even the smallest shift in her expression. forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and his heart does an absolutely ridiculous twist in the middle of his chest at that nervous laugh, and the request that follows.

if he doesn't mind. if he doesn't mind. he bites back an almost incredulous huff of laughter, because of course he doesn't mind, as if he would prefer anything else than having her right there next to him, and he hopes he drives that thought home with the way he nuzzles her cheek, the curve of his smile easy, but soft, almost fragile. ) I never mind you wantin' to be here. ( a beat. ) With me. I want you to stay.

[ with all of this overthinking on what is real and isn't real, there is nothing more tangible in this very moment than the way he looks at her and what she perceives to be uncertainty in his smile when she opens her eyes. in her mind, she recalls the two of them sitting here like this, closer than anything else. she wasn't afraid to touch him in those moments, but another part of her warns her against it, that she might do something she will regret with her cold fingertips and the snow that follows her wherever she goes.

but by now those flurries have all disappeared, leaving behind only a slight chill in the air. ]

Thank you.

[ instinct or not, she follows the inner urge to lean forward to close the distance, touching her lips to his tentatively, barely a kiss, a gesture of thanks as she brushes her fingers over his cheek. but in a breath, she has pulled back again, her expression not as bewildered as before, though her smile is hesitant, shy. ]

( as long as he's known her — as long as he's thought he's known her — she's been prone to overthinking. even with the smallest things, the sort of things that could either be left for later or swept underneath the proverbial rug and ignored until there is no more room to sweep. and with something like this, thoughts are some of the most dangerous things that could get in the way of relaxing, finding comfort, and they aren't welcome here.

but at least those little snowflakes have gone, and even if the chill left in the air lowers the temperature around them by a scant few degrees, she seems. a bit more calm than when he'd first pulled her inside, and he's thankful for that. at least. ) Don't thank me. ( please. like he would rather have you anywhere else.

that kiss is barely-there, but he finds himself following when she pulls back, reluctant to let some of that closed distance be reclaimed; he stops, though, before he has a chance to steal another kiss, because this isn't about him. this is about her, and what she's comfortable with, and what he can do to make her more comfortable.

instead, he reaches for the hand at his cheek, and presses a kiss to the center of her palm. ) Do you need anythin'? Late-night snack? ( he would totally offer some cocoa if he thought he had any. he'll have to start keeping some. )

[ it strikes her then that this affection – the kiss, the press of lips to her palm, the way their hands never really leave each other – is both new and familiar as she does not know if she had shared these moments with anyone other than him. instead of running away from it, she finds that it anchors her instead, which is a feeling she had only associated with her sister.

her sister. for all she knows, anna might be long gone or trapped in some holding cell, frozen just as she had been.

and there she goes again, the wrinkle deepening between her brows, her lips pursed into a thin line. the corners of her mouth twitch but she pulls herself back if only because he still has his arms around her and she wants to bury herself in his embrace for a while to forget about all of this tonight. ]

No. [ her voice carries an edge and, to try to get rid of it, she clears her throat. ] No, I'm – I'm fine. I'm just happy to be here with you. [ but it is a sweet suggestion. the chocolate, she assumes, can come later. ]

( it comes as easily as breathing, that affection, without a single thought at all to anything else; there are a handful of memories that flit to the front of his mind in this instant, memories of being spread out in the floor of her bedroom and taking up too much space, surrounded by notes that neither of them are paying much attention to because it would mean taking that attention away from each other, and he'd done the very same thing thing, a kiss to the center of her palm, because it's as simple as they considered themselves to have been.

it occurs to him that he doesn't think there could ever have been anyone but her to have shared something like that with. even. if. none of those memories ever actually happened, they've still embedded themselves in him as something tangible, something worth holding on to and expounding on given the chance. and that she'd chosen to come to him in a moment of need instead of anyone else still wrenches something in him to full awareness.

idly, without any real notice of the motion itself he lets go of her hand for a tiny moment, just long enough to gently brush the tips of his fingers over the crease that sits between furrowed brows. as easy and thoughtless as if he'd done it a thousand times before, and then both arms are winding around her, tugging her in just a little bit closer as he nuzzles her temple, encourages her to settle against him however she wants to. ) You know I'm always gonna be here when you need me, right?

[ she doesn't think anyone has ever held her this close. she doesn't think she would have allowed it from anyway save for her own family. they've shared so many spaces that belonged to them and them alone with little to disturb their peace. it was only natural that she had chosen his place in which to take refuge from her own cheerless notions.

a laugh bubbles up from her chest when his fingers brush that crease in the center of otherwise pale and perfect skin and she looks sheepish, closing her eyes a moment as she smoothes her expression, licking her lips thoughtfully. ]

And I, you. [ being much smaller than him, she slowly pulls herself up so that she can touch her forehead to his, nose to nose. that nuzzle from him is met with a brush of her lips to the corner of his mouth. it is a less shy gesture than before, a more purposeful response, inviting him to follow the kiss this time. ]

I'll look out for you too, [ she promises in a whisper, her arms tentatively wrapped around his shoulders. ]

( he remembers closeness with his own family — nights years and years ago in which his sister had been restless after a bad dream, and she had looked to him first to soothe the night into something less intimidating — and there is no one else that he can think of that would have merited this sort of treatment, or that he would have wanted to give it to in the first place.

that laugh catches him like a hook to the mouth, and his heart jumps in his chest when she schools her expression into something softer, even more so when she pulls herself up and rests her forehead against his. forehead to forehead, nose to nose. ) Can't think of anybody I'd rather have lookin' out for me. ( he does follow that kiss this time, pressing his lips to hers much more firmly than either of them have done thus far, still soft, but. just a little bit wanting. )

[ it feels as if she had been keeping an eye on him too. while she knows it is his instinct to protect, it's in her own nature to see to it that he was taken care of, whether it was bringing him noodles after extracurriculars or ensuring that she had her own tattoo care kit in her bedroom.

the little details come to her with each brush of his fingertips and each kiss they share because it only feels right, being with him like this, being pulled out of her darker corner into something light and warm. this wasn't why she had come over at all, though there is no denying that each time they had been together, she had felt something, a spark, a yearning.

her kisses are slow, almost lazy, and still a touch uncertain, though that does not stop her from parting her lips to taste him, to reorient herself with this. ]

( he's always been the one that feels the need to protect everyone else, especially if the ones he cares about the most are in the equation, and she has always been at the top of that list barring his own family. because they have always somehow managed to complement one another in the most basic of things, taking care of one another when the smallest need arises, and he's lost count of how damned many times she's seen to the things that he's never thought to ask for. whether it's his beloved cup noodle or keeping him from turning into one giant scab throughout the healing process.

( hell still ain't people. it's a healing tattoo. )

she might not have come for this, only for the comfort she knows she could find in him but here they are, pressed in tight together and her lips are parting against his, the tip of his own tongue flicking slowly, almost shyly against her bottom lip. just one more chance to taste her in return before he chances lightly sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, the blunt edges of his teeth digging in just enough to be noticed.

there is no rushing this. there is no pushing it forward — because it stays slow, almost-lazy, even as his hands are smoothing along the line of her spine in some measure of comfort, a constant reminder of i'm here, if nothing else. )

[ her lips part and her tongue pushes against his and a soft sigh slips out with it and she feels exactly as she must have when she was seventeen and letting him distract her from her school, her daily worries, easing the crinkle of her forehead with the pad of his thumb and kiss after kiss. those memories somehow make her feel less inept at this than she truly is.

remaining curled up at his side just won't do anymore and she finds herself rising to her knees, a head above him instead with a hand caressing the side of his face with the fingers tangled in his hair as they curl around the back of his head. she does not miss the weight of gladio's hands on her back, along the length of her spine, and when she pulls away for air, her smile is grateful, tender. loving.

elsa says nothing, her mouth half open when she looks down at him, long, bed-rumpled hair hanging around her face, acting as a sort of curtain around the two of them. in her eyes is a more certain look than before. ]

( there are so many things, so damned many things that had merited implementing his way of distraction, and there is not a damned thing in the world that would have found him either sorry or wishing he could do anything differently. those memories are what bring them to the here and now, and you won't find him pulling away now, either.

he's not. quite expecting her to move when she does, but she does and such a simple movement finds him tipping his face up to maintain some measure of contact with her, lips to lips as the smallest sort of murmur filters up from the back of his throat. as hands briefly settle somewhere around her hips and he peers up at her when she pulls back for breath, his own caught somewhere on the back of his tongue. ) … C'mere.

( fingers curl against her hips, and he pushes up for another soft kiss as he encourages her to settle in his lap, something that feels so damned familiar that his chest almost aches with it. she's not the only one that might just look a bit more certain. )

[ without question, she settles into his lap, her thighs against his with her feet tucked beneath her. one kiss ends and another begins as she runs her fingers through her own hair, brushing pale blonde strands behind her ears. it is comfortable here in this perch and she finds that she ( still ) likes sitting taller than him, almost proud.

his hands find purchase on her hips and that is just enough for the heat from within to ripple through every vein in her body. he has done this before, held her like this as she tested the waters with him and what they were comfortable doing together. her teeth just barely scrape his bottom lip when she kisses him next, breathing him in as much as she can until she decides to pull back.

with one hand curved around his shoulder, she uses the other to trace over the outlines of his tattoo that she can see, the tip of her nail running over every curve of a feather. her tongue flicks out to lick her lips before she leans in to kiss his shoulder ever so gently, murmuring against his skin with cold lips to offset his warmth. ] I remember when you were just starting this.

( it feels like they're teenagers all over again, with her settled against him like this, taller than him in the only way she'll ever be and for as much as she likes it, he's pretty damned fond of it himself, if only because she always seems to look so damned pleased when she's in that particular perch.

it's endearing. like everything else about her.

her teeth scrape over his bottom lip and he gives a low, thrumming sound against her mouth until she pulls back, and he finds himself watching the trail of finger and nail over the detail inked onto his skin, a scant few memories bringing themselves to the surface and leaving him with a small chuckle in the back of his throat. all those itchy moments soothed by the press of her hands and the care she puts into everything.

his hands stay where they are, resting lightly against the curve of her hips, sneaking a kiss to her neck as she leaves one against his shoulder. ) It's 'cause of you that I didn't actually turn into a giant scab. ( good grief. )

[ it is easier to talk about these things as if they hadn't happened instead of as mere hypotheticals. elsa almost sighs in relief when the conversation continues in this vein and she presses kisses along the slope of his shoulder and up his neck, smiling against the hollow for a moment until she kisses her way straight to his lips. all fluttering, fleeting kisses. her body curls around him, arms winding around his neck and she responds in a murmur into his mouth. ]

Anything to help. Always looking out for you.

[ it is a gorgeous tattoo. and if she's behind honest with herself, she very much likes how inked skin looks in contrast with her own pale, unmarked skin. she wants to kiss and touch every inch of it and that unsuppressed desire – that actually does not surprise her. ]

( it's. damned near impossible not to lose himself in her flurry of kisses, over skin etched in ink as well as not, and one of his hands comes up to cup the back of her neck as she rests briefly against the hollow of his throat, that smile curving the line of her mouth in a way that he's sure he can feel, pressed where it is. fingers thread through the loose ends of her hair as she continues to work her way up, presses her mouth against his in another kiss that he swears he can feel all the way down to the marrow of his bones.

for all he cares, in this very moment, everything they have memories of has happened. he refuses to think, for what it's worth, that something that affects them both so deeply is anything other than their own experiences, because he catches himself wondering — has there really ever been a time in his life that he hasn't loved her, hasn't been drawn to her, hasn't made a place for her in his life as easily as anything else?

( no, something in him whispers solemnly, and damned if he doesn't believe it. )

he speaks against her mouth, low and soft and about as genuine as he ever has been. ) You help just by bein' here with me. ( another soft kiss. ) Always have.

[ fleetingly, that heartache grows duller. tomorrow, she will worry once more over the absence of her blood family, the whereabouts of her sister. tomorrow, she can approach this with a clear head as she joins the others in the quest for more answers. right now, there's gladio.

they had said in so many words that these memories were meant to integrate them into this society, makes them feel less like fishes out of water. she cannot deny that it had done the job in the short while she had been awake and functioning. until more of her memories return, as far as she knows, she had some kind of a life here with him, that she has always been hopelessly and irrevocably in love with him.

that certainly is enough to build upon, isn't it? ]

I've been wanting to kiss you since the opening party, [ elsa confesses bashfully, her breath cold against his skin when she exhales. with anyone else, there would be more snow, but with him, she only sits comfortably in his lap like she belongs there. ]

( there is always going to be a tomorrow, a dawn to face the things that had been left the night before, because he's convinced things are always a bit … clearer outside of the small hours of the night, when just about anything can seem unclear, terrifying and unfamiliar.

or the hazy sort of things that had been forgotten and been brought back around again to haunt, to infringe on whatever manner of calm and peace one might have found. to effectively fuck it all up.

but here they are, and here she is like only he remembers her, trusting in him when she finds herself needing him the most, and he. his heart swells and aches all at once, and all he wants to do is reassure her that he's going to remain that constant in her life, whenever she needs it. that has to be enough to build on.

his nose brushes hers with a smile, the softest and most deep-set thing that could only come from one so completely enamored. ) Can't say I wasn't thinkin' the same thing. ( another nose bump, and a brush of lips to the corner of her mouth. ) I hereby give you permission to kiss me as much as you want. I mean … we're both here, and all. ( for fuck's sake, you're hopeless. )

Well, if I'm granted permission, then I might just take advantage of this opening.

[ her voice is lighter, her hand settling over the center of his chest, right over his heart so that she can feel it beating as she had when they fell asleep together, face to face, nose to nose. her younger self once wondered if it meant something when the beats would align with hers when she thought he was sleeping and she lay awake in his arms in the middle of the night.

perhaps it does.

tonight is... somehow more innocent than some of their other evenings, and thoughts of that filter into the way she parts her lips for him again. kissing is perfect in this instance, exactly what she needs to settle her nerves, but that does not stop her from pressing a little further. not too far. she doesn't think herself ready for move further than making out on his couch; something about her past makes her apprehensive, even now. ]

( he'd never been completely asleep when she thought he had been, though he'd gotten pretty decent at it when he discovered she did things that she wouldn't have dared when he was awake — even if it was just to lightly trail her fingertips over the newly-inked lines of his arms, or brush over the stubble that had begun to grow along the line of his jaw, all these tiny, idle things that might not mean much, but to them it's always been about subtlety, and the smaller the action, the word, the more meaning held behind it.

he's thought about those moments a few times recently. well, more than a few times, if he's perfectly honest, because it seems like since he'd run into just after her accident, far more of his waking thoughts have been centered around her. hm.

some things don't change.

he'll never press her — never has and never will — because even though there's a rush of warmth through him when she pushes a bit closer, the touch of her kisses against his mouth are perfect in what they are, because they may as well be discovering one another all over again, and that. that's part of the thrill of it. ) You? Take advantage of anything? ( he has to chuckle, even if it's soft, as he nips lightly at her bottom lip. ) Sounds like a scandal to me.

If I'm to stay with you this evening, I think I might take a mile when you've given me an inch.

[ if she could spend the rest of her days like this with him, wrapped up in him like there is no other place for his arms than around her waist, elsa might just die happy. irresponsibly, but happy. there is something in her that feels guilty for such a thought, this sense of duty that doesn't change in this world or the next. after being lied to, she is reluctant to lend her help to a mysterious group with misinformation and false promises. but there is a responsibility she feels, even as a regular citizen, to help those in need.

but, again, tomorrow.

her hand reaches back to wrap around his wrist, bringing his hand back up to her chest where she places it tenderly over the center, over her heart, the only thing between them being the grey cotton of her pajama top. it is not a sexual move though she would like for his hands to roam as much as they want to, but yet another one of those gestures that make up their extensive history. this is his. ]

I'd give you a mile, and one more for good measure. ( it sounds just as corny as everything else that's come out of his mouth in the last couple of minutes, but it's still just as sincere as everything, too. she's come to him in the middle of the night looking for comfort, respite from memories that might have been better left in the dark for a little while longer, and there is not a damned thing he wouldn't do for her if it meant that she could sleep easily. or at all, for that matter.

his hand against her chest seems almost too-large, the spread of his fingers against her collarbones warm as her heart beats strongly against the center of his palm, and it rests there. rising and falling with each breath she takes in and lets go, the tips of index and middle finger resting against the hollow of her throat in some almost-possessive thing that flickers through the whole of him.

he nibbles at her lips, draws away just enough to trace the rise of a cheekbone with soft, affectionate kisses. ) Hell, I'd give you whatever you wanted.

[ she can't help it. she giggles when he leaves a trail of kisses over her cheek and brings that hand on her chest up to cup the opposite side of her face. he is so warm especially compared to her oft-chilled skin but she likes it. one might even say that she truly does melt around him. ] Just you. And sleep.

[ her lips just catch his thumb to brush against the pad of it. ] Perhaps we should try to sleep.

[ or at least lay in bed together like the used to with his weight and presence somehow keeping all the dark thoughts at bay. her fingers trail down his chest before stopping halfway down his torso and she takes a deep breath. this transition cannot be easy for him too, and she hasn't even thought to ask him in detail how he must be dealing with these announcements left and right. ] If we can sleep, anyway.

( he's not sure he knows how to be anything but soft around her, all those rough edges sanded down to something that has only ever really belonged to her, her presence alone enough to cure him of the roughness that would otherwise make its way into everything else. ( there's a brief pause for another thought here, one in which he remembers worrying that he'd scared her with the edge of his anger that she hadn't yet seen, accompanied by bloodied knuckles and stitches and a good month's worth of detention sitting in the same room as the one that had caused it in the first place.

hate is a pretty damned strong word, and he would never use it lightly. he's he's pretty sure he'd hated hans with every fiber of his being back then.

at least this is little more than a pause before his attention is brought back to her, where it belongs. )

there's a small laugh, little more than a huff of breath against her cheek. ) Well, you got me, so I guess sleep's the only other option. ( there's a small moment in which he considers his next movement, wondering if it's somehow going to be too much — but there are all those old memories again, of nights spent with the entirety of his form wrapped around her as tightly and comfortably as they could both manage, and even if it's been brought to both of their attention through recent events that none of it was real, it's so much easier to give in to the notion that they are, because it feels so much more natural than anything else.

but. tonight isn't for thinking, as their current position has led them both to realize, her in his lap as he prefers and it takes little effort at all to keep her held close to his chest as he effectively scoops her up, stands, as easily as he has so damned many times before and pauses just long enough to nose at her cheekbone before he starts toward his bedroom. ) We can try, at least.

[ they both know she does not need someone to protect her, but she loves that he does anyway, looking out for her just as much as she looks out for him, from breaking noses to the little things like saving seats during lunch and kissing scars after schoolyard bullies went too far. those big and little things add up to a hell of a lot, real or not, and elsa is loath to give any of that up, not when she needs him the most.

this feels exactly how it should be, being scooped up into his arms as if she weighs nothing, holding him close to her as he makes his way towards his bedroom. it is almost second nature, letting her guard down around him to the point where she can fall asleep in his arms and allow his quiet rumbles both soothe her and wake her up in the morning. ( when she manages to sleep in later than him, but that is a topic we are saving for another day. ) ]

I always sleep better with you around.

[ with one kiss to gladio's cheek, she leans in to nestle her face against his neck, smiling against warm skin, a wide curve that she is sure he will be able to feel because he knows her inside and out. she sleeps better because it feels like home, anywhere she is with him. maybe this is not her birth home, but it is a home that is every bit as important as wherever she truly came from. ]

I'm glad I came here instead of staying up all night by myself.

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closed ❅ there were monsters beneath our bed.

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