Complications of Mortality | Druig x OC

XXIII | Meander

That white lily.

Usually when men were trying to impress their partners, they opted for a bouquet of a dozen roses, or a bundle of vibrant sunflowers. Paired with a collection of assorted chocolates, you were left with the textbook way to make a gal swoon.

And granted, Akiva thought the gesture was sweet for what it was. Druig didn't exactly seem like the type to leave her little gifts of affection, and she certainly couldn't imagine him going to Sersi and asking her to turn something into a flower for him.

"It's changed meaning over the years, and depending on what part of the world you're in," he brushed off the question dismissingly. His inflections were off, causing Akiva to wonder if there were any negative connotations associated with it. Maybe it wasn't a romantic gesture at all, and rather, a sort of foreshadowing towards the unfortunate events that took place.

Akiva glanced over her shoulder as they cut across the street, making sure there was a safe path across as if they couldn't stop whatever was coming at them.

"You have such a way with words," she mocked, sarcasm lacing her tone.

He let go of her hand, bringing his own back to the pockets of his flannel. Settling in nicely, she curled her fingers back and let her arm hang at her side. She briefly wished she had sipped on that espresso a little slower, wanting something to occupy her hands.

He remained quiet. Akiva got the feeling that he wasn't going to give her an answer unless she pressed a little harder. A bit of guilt inflamed in her chest. The embers that harbored in her heart caught fire, knowing that it would be better to just drop it. But their connection was intense. She thought it was justified to want things from him when he so clearly wanted things from her.

The whole reason Druig had ventured out to accompany her was to get to know each other a little better.

And Akiva didn't particularly have a taste for things so superficial.

"You're loud," he spoke up, glancing over at her.

Akiva's bewildered look connected with his, watching each other in brief passing. "I'm not even speaking," she responded bluntly.

"When you think about me I can hear my name ringing in your head."

Akiva stopped walking, causing him to pause in his tracks. He turned to look at her, his body perpendicular to her own. He watched her for a second, eyes flicking down to her sweater and suit before turning his body completely to face her.

"Bullshit." she claimed.

"Oh?"

She crossed her arms over her chest lazily, trying to decipher if he was telling the truth or not. It had to be a coincidence. That he just happened to bring that up right when she was thinking about him. His eyes weren't even gold.

Her own gaze wandered away to the grass as she thought about the others. Phastos' didn't glow when he was just constructing blueprints. Thena's only glowed when she was in the process of summoning weapons, not when she was actually using them. It was possible that he was able to use telepathy with such a little amount of cosmic energy that it didn't deplete from his stored sources. Like it was a passive process.

Akiva's eyes connected with the familiar blue.

She was going to test him.

They were tangled under those dark grey sheets again. Restless legs were entwined even though his skin was so cold to the touch. She didn't mind the goosebumps he left in his wake. He held her tightly, pale arms snaking around her frame and dragging her close to his chest. Only this time, he hadn't forced her to accept sleep. She basked in the feeling of being beside him, realizing that it felt like she was waiting ages for that moment, too. It feels like I've been waiting seven thousand years to finally meet you. She'd lift her head from the crook in his neck, but their noses wouldn't touch. Blue eyes would bore down into her, and she'd nod her head, waiting for the contact to hit it's mark. His breath was shaky, even though being together felt like it was exuding comfort in waves.