Morning, 29 Hamis, 2720
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum
The Ibutatu House, Isla Dzum
Once he thought he had dreamt of a small red bird, and his hands – both of them – cupped with seeds in his palms. It perched on the edge of his finger, curling its head over to peck at them, and he held, too afraid to close his hands over it, knowing that it would fly off if he did. He woke from that dream, too, cradling Aurelie close, or else he’d never dreamt at all. He had shifted, then, and pressed a kiss to her hair, and dozed off against with the strange soft taste of it on his lips.
When Aremu woke, he knew it. There was cool morning light streaming in through the window, and the breeze that washed over them smelled of salt and tsug, smelled of home. Aremu’s face twitched in a smile, and he looked down at the pale red strands of hair spread out over the pillow. If she hadn’t still been there, her breathing soft and even, curled up in his arms, he might have thought it all a dream too, just another which had passed through him in the night, with nothing for it to hold on to.
His head hurt; it wasn’t as bad as the day before, but there was a soft, dull ache throbbing in the back of his skull. Aremu thought to make his peace with it; he had an uneasy feeling it would be his companion for some time. He thought about it, and he judged it a price well worth paying, looking down at Aurelie curled up in his arms.
Uncertainty washed through him. Her pale nightgown was every bit as chaste as the night before; there was nothing of her revealed by it, not more than a hint of the soft curves beneath. He remembered, too, her watching him from across the room, her face crimson, and slowly coming over to stand at his knees – sitting on the bed beside him – he thought, too, of the small hand that had crept down to rest against his chest, and the grin that he’d felt against his lips at the noise he’d made.
Aremu smiled. The cave still seemed like a distant dream; perhaps the night before did too. If it was a dream, he thought, he wasn’t sure he’d woken up yet, and he didn’t think he wanted to.
Aremu shifted, and curled a little closer to her, the long line of his body wrapped around her. He closed his eyes again, lying his head on her pillow once more, and found he couldn’t quite sleep again. He left them open instead, watching the soft fall of hair over her cheek, shifting and stirring lightly with every breathe, the light from the window streaming through it.
He knew it, the moment when she shifted in his arms, her breath catching a little; she stirred against him, and Aremu’s breath caught too, just a little.
“Good morning,” Aremu said, softly. He thought perhaps he should have eased away; he shifted his arm off of her, at least. He was only a man; he yielded, then, to the impulse, and stroked a gentle lock of hair off of Aurelie’s face, tucking it softly behind her ear. He smiled.
