pullmeoutalive | Because my heart

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Because my heart

[ She's never really forgotten, even as she's gazed upon Lucina and known that she's only ever had one sibling, and that was Cynthia. There's always been someone else with blue hair, someone incredibly important, and that was why Noire was one of the few who didn't turn to romance amongst her friends. There was someone else, and he wasn't there. She has to resign herself to this, and accept it. Her best friend understood. The war is over, Robin had returned to them, and that's more of a miracle than she could have ever expected. Asking for anything else...

But then it happens. Inexplicably, without warning, she finds herself in the Outrealms, called by Naga herself. Another realm needs assistance, more than just one army can provide, and she's not offered much more explanation than that before she and the others are thrown into the fray again.

Dusk has already fallen, and the rain isn't making a battle any easier, her allies (current and new) hard to pick out, but for the most part, it's an age-old struggle-- something Noire's experienced since she was old enough to remember it. Arrow after arrow, duck and skid, call out every so often so your comrades knew your position and that you were still alive. It's grueling, yes, but the amount of oddly intelligent and resilient Risen are starting to taper off by the time she pauses to catch her breath-- and freezes when she spots movement out of her eye, a sniper taking aim at a rain-blurred figure.

She thinks she might have shouted something maniacal and threatening, drowned out by the rage of battle, but her arrow slams into the ribcage, and the Risen falls.

Noire's sigh of relief is quiet, as she slowly lowers her bow. ]

S-somehow... made it... thank goodness.

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[ It seems unfair, for Naga to bring them together, finally, only to have the inevitability of them being pulled apart waiting for them. And she wonders, still so desperate, what it would take to change that. If they could change that.

But more than that, she stares into his eyes, really looks at him. He's definitely beginning to resemble his father more, but there's still the quintessential Morgan aura about him. In comparison, she feels as frail and tiny as before, but somehow, that pales to just being with him, in this moment.

And it's why, still balanced against him, she'll bring their mouths together with a sigh that's a lot of things, but mostly finally.

She won't let him go anywhere. ]

[ The rain soaks him to the bone and fills his ears, floods down his face; a battle is still in progress, and he's undoubtedly missing some amazing double Robin tactical collaboration, but for once, for this one person, it all melts away.

He tightens her to him and meets her lips with simple need, familiar yet different. All the love and longing, unspoken for so long, spoken now through the depth of his kiss and the pressing search for more. ]

[ If it's more he wants, Noire will offer it without much prompting, and it's almost frightening when she knows the rain is chilling her skin, pressing her hair closer to her head, and everyone else is yelling to each other, blades striking blades, a wyvern's shriek-- all of that, and she knows it exists, but she hears and feels none of it. There's only Morgan, and a kiss she's sinking deeper into. She won't have this in front of her forever-- she'll take it now, selfishly, in between tiny, ragged murmurs of his name. ]

[ Gods. He'd somehow forgotten how good it felt to have this -- to have her. His blood is pounding as she says his name in that desperate way. He drags a hand through her hair, for once not at all gentle, and his mouth grows heavier.

It's hardly the time for this, but for all the tactical sense in the world, he can't bring himself to stop taking her in, revisiting her mouth and voice and body. He's waited so long... they've both waited so long. ]

[ It's not as though Noire is a masochist, for all that she keeps returning to her mother's side-- she doesn't willingly seek out pain. But the roughness of his hand and the way he silently demands all of her isn't pain to her. It's Morgan, his emotions coming to the forefront even more than usual, and she fully understands all of it.

The battle has quieted when she finally leans back, with a gasp that's still half-sob, but she won't go far, resting one hand on his chest now. His heartbeat, racing. Just like hers.

It's still hard to believe he's real. ]

[ His breathing is heavy by the time she pulls back, and he's a little sorry that it's over so soon -- but no amount of time could be enough for him, truly. He puts a hand over hers, squeezing it lightly to his chest, and finally cracks a fond smile. Even in the rain, across timelines... even if it hurts, he's still lucky to have someone who loves him so much. ]

Not a single dream could match you... nor all of them put together, as a matter of fact. It's almost suspicious! Have you been practicing without me?

I'd never kiss anyone but you. [ and Noire says this quietly, but firmly. ] I'd never love anyone but you, Morgan. This was just... instinct?

[ She's wasted on him. She really is... But he can't help feeling glad anyway. He should insist that she move on, but he has a feeling she wouldn't take very kindly to that. Certainly not any more than he would. ]

Ha ha ha. I'd call it... passion. You've always had plenty of it to spare.

... Really? I thought I was only passionate when I was angry.

Definitely not! Maybe it doesn't show as much around others, but I always thought it was obvious.

[ When there was no one but him to see it... He moves in until their lips are nearly touching and murmurs. ]

Was I just imagining it?

... [ All this time, and she still blushes, but she won't move back. ]

No... I can't really hold back when it comes to you, somehow.

You see?

[ He cheekily moves up to peck her on the nose. ]

Heh. I almost forgot how cute you are when you smile.

[ She'd point out that he'd still most likely seen a Noire on a day-to-day basis, but she doesn't like the idea of another her smiling at him like that. Which is silly, she knows, but she huffs quietly anyway and curls her fingers into the front of his robe. ]

I-if you're going to tease me, I'll go home.

[ Those smiles aren't the same, of course. They're too nervous, too commonplace, too polite. Never for him and him alone. ]

Yes, ma'am. No more teasing.

[ He gently brushes the hair from her face before lifting her chin. And... pausing. ]

But your nose really is adorable and worth kissing too, for the record.

[ She lets him, unusually docile in the midst of a battleground, but this is Morgan, and any touch from him right now is a welcome one. ]

I think you're the only person who would ever say that about my nose.

[ He just chuckles before finally bending and taking her lips with a soft touch, his kisses feathery light and playful as he absently pulls his hood back on, deep enough to shield her from a bit of that rain too.

They don't have all the time in the world, it's true. But he needs at least a little pocket of time to take her in at his own leisure and appreciate what he's missed. Then he can charge back into the fray with no regrets -- and only then. ]

[ There's a different feeling to these kisses, less desperate-- but no less desired. She's safe here, pressed up close enough to be guarded by his hood, and even as she shivers, his kisses leave little spots of warmth blooming in her face and her chest.

He's making it even harder to leave him, and it's why she keeps her fingers clenched in his robe, why occasionally she'll dip from a kiss to press another to his jaw, against his neck, because there's so much she wants to take from this. ]

[ That's a little unexpected, but in the best kind of way. He hums in appreciation and lets his hands wander her curves, learning the subtle changes in her landscape. But she's still breathtakingly familiar, and his thumbs are already sneaking up under her shirt like a bad habit. In some moment when she leaves his mouth, he speaks. ]

I dreamed a lot about you, you know.

[ In the hollow of his hood, his voice is clear and soft. ]

[ Morgan, really? Out here?? Which is what she'd say, if a.) she hadn't been away for him for far too long and b.) if he wasn't distracting her, even as she draws in a short breath and slowly lowers her head to rest against his collarbone. ]

I hope they weren't nightmares...

[ He's deprived, don't judge.

But that gets his attention, and he pauses to consider it along with her lowered head. ]

You've been having nightmares about me?

Just... [ she slowly shakes her head against him. ] Dreams where I could hear you calling for me, but no matter where I ran, or how far, I could never find you.

[ Oh, Noire. He rests his chin on her head and wraps his arms around her, staring away in thought. ]

It hasn't been easy... has it?

No... I-I mean-- [ still talking into his clavicle here, but-- ] I knew we'd be separated, and I knew you wouldn't want me to be sad...

... But being without you, Morgan, it's-- it's like something's missing every single day. And I'm so miserable because of it.

[ ... That's too sad. The ache is almost physical. And it helps him come to a decision as he buries his face in her hair, something hard edging his voice. ]

Wait for me, Noire. I'll find one hundred... two hundred... however many Naga's bells it takes to get her to listen to me. And I'll find a way to stay with you. I swear it.

I-- Morgan, that's-- [ sorry, she's a little overcome right now, but she tries to turn her head to look at him. ] I'm sorry, I was being selfish-- but if you do that... your timeline, your family, your mother--

... You might not be able to go back to any of it.

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