Trinity

Out in the Open

The two newly bonded lovers lay together, their energy contentedly spent as Miles explored the limits of this link between them. Lyle said it was "emotions, or something," and or something was accurate. It went much further than just emotions; there was a profoundness he couldn't quite grasp yet. Not only could he feel Mansk's satisfaction, but also the whirlwind of emotions that took place before their bonding.

When Mansk staked his claim, hope flowed through the link between them. A blanketed sensation of optimistic anticipation for their future, eagerness and excitement surrounded their souls. The sense of completeness and the confirmation of their love were potent in such a way that they threatened to steal away his ability to breathe.

Miles looked down fondly at the man cuddling against his chest as he lightly ran his hand across the smooth skin of his back. He was grateful to hold him like this, to be close, and to know he could prevent his mate from becoming touch-starved again. Mansk's presence continued to fight against his never-ending thoughts of doubt, expelling them from the cracks left by years of pain. His soulful golden eyes pierced through the fragments and glued them together with his love.

It reminded him of an ancient Terran way of repairing broken pottery. Kintsugi, he recalls. It was something Nera told him about one day. Pandoran expert or not, she enjoyed Terran history as well. It involved taking something seemingly broken and now worthless and making it whole again... A gold seam joined the fragments and left behind something that was now more beautiful than it had been before.

Kintsugi was a metaphor for resilience and strength, a visual representation of the healing process, and the hidden beauty to be found in something broken. Embracing imperfection, picking up the pieces and having a second chance.

This was his redemption. His proof of being redeemable.

The depth of Mansk's love for him and her slowly picked up the shattered vestiges that remained of his soul. Abyssal cracks within his psyche were flooded with the molten gold of his eyes and sealed together permanently. Mansk found and gathered pieces of him that he didn't even know were missing, ones that he was now unwilling to part with. Shimmering veins spread throughout his soul, and he would wear them as a badge of honor, a symbol of Mansk's love and devotion.

In spite of this, his stomach still twisted with the knowledge of Mansk's fear and Lyle's confirmation that they all probably thought the same. It churned, knowing they were right. Mansk may have painstakingly begun the process of mending his broken soul, but it was far from finished. It would take more than one instance to repair the damage.

"Stop worrying." His mate's voice rumbled tiredly against his chest and Miles pulled him even closer.

"I'm not worrying." Mansk's head lifted, and assessed him.

"You couldn't lie to me before, you definitely can't get away with it now." Miles let his head fall back against the pillows and let out a sigh.

"I know." His hand caressed Mansk's cheek. Yet again he found himself drinking in the way he chased his touch. Talk to me. He could feel the insistence traveling wordlessly through the connection.

"Miles." His heart fluttered at his name, like a teenager with a crush. Well, his body was only 20. The sound of his name on Mansk's lips was something he'd cherish forever.

"Who I am now, would never hurt you. But I'm plagued by who I used to be, who you thought I still was. He probably would have, and I fucking hate it." A surge of anxiety punctures through him as Mansk lifts off his chest. He raises with him, but Mansk smiles softly and switched their positions, pulling him against his chest. Miles sighs deeply into the offered comfort while his tail brushes against Mansk's leg in light strokes.