sempiternals | Because I can't take my eyes off you

[ How embarrassing. She's been trying so hard to keep herself together, trying so desperately not to involve those men she loved so dearly in her thoughts, and yet that thought of Silver catches her so horribly off-guard that she can't help but to weep, hands coming to her face as she tries in vain to hide her tears.

And then the skies open in the most violent, bitter of downpours, and Navia's sobs are lost in the wash of the rain, her eyes wide and her hands falling to her sides as she looks to the charcoal of the clouds and to the violence of their tears finding earth only to bounce away once more. She's drenched within the instant, and she turns to Neuvillette to comment her surprise—

Only to see the look on his face, pensive and drawn, eyes half on her and half on the sky—

And in an instant, she knows. ]

Don't cry.

[ It's a whisper, as she closes the space between them, reaches up without thinking to brush invisible tears from his cheeks the way a nanny might have for her when she was younger. ]

[ Neuvillette's heart thumps like a moth beating its life away around a streetlight as he watches the realization settle across the other's features; it's not like he thinks she will take it poorly or anything of the sort, yet he cannot help but feel a little nervous. How odd, he didn't feel this way when the Traveler had figured it out in similar circumstances... then she gets closer, bridging the distance between them before he can even properly react, those soft fingers of hers touching his cheek so tenderly. ]

....I...I'll try not to.

[ Try is the best he can manage. The Hydro Dragon has wept almost daily for hundreds of years, grieving for the sorrows of the world, for a species that keeps finding new ways to be cruel to itself—for someone who struggles with understanding his emotion, he feels them deeply, like the ebb and flow of the tides.

He exhales a shaky breath, closing his eyes. The rain begins to lessen in its downpour. ]

[ Try.

Navia thinks she can accept that.

Her fingers stay against his cheek as the rain slows its fall, continuing to stroke and caress against his skin. It's something that she's quite sure she shouldn't be doing, but now that she's started, she finds that she can't quite seem to stop.

(It's been quite some time since she's touched someone just for the sake of touching them, hasn't it?)

But even as she continues her gentle touches, realizations are coming one after another to her mind, the moments falling into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle easily slotted together now that the frame is in the right spot. ]

You cried for him, didn't you? All that time, I thought you didn't care at all, but...

[ She feels ashamed, thinking back to it. That day in his office, accusing him of lacking feelings at all... ]

I'm so terribly sorry.

[ Inclining his head, Neuvillette leans into the touch somewhat, the warmth of her hand against his skin a soothing balm of sorts. The rain lightens a little more, now closer to a particularly heavy drizzle compared to the violent downpour it had been moments ago.

Him. The memory of that day resurfaces, how he had thought that there was something amiss with the case; Callas had been a great man in many aspects and had even been offered the title of Baron at one point, which he refused. It didn't make sense to him that someone who had consistently showed good character would suddenly take someone's life.

Yet he had allowed the duel to proceed and Callas knew death awaited him as he stood before Clorinde. ]

I did. [ He says, quietly, eyes opening once more. ] You didn't know.

[ He does not fault her for her words back then; they had cut him deeply, but he finds that he was deserving of every single one for having failed her. For failing to stop that duel. ]

[ Even as Neuvillette expresses his confirmation, acknowledges that Navia didn't know the truth of her accusations, the woman stands there in the rain, having not thought once of putting her umbrella up for the two of them. Instead, she's in a quiet sort of shock, pieces continuing to put themselves together even as she tries to process those she already understands. And her fingers, yet resting against his cheek, still in their movements, blue eyes widening even as they fill with tears. ]

And then... that day in your office. After I.. after I said those horrid things. It rained again. You...

[ But wherefore did he weep? Was it for the knowledge that she did not yet share? Or was it for the cruel barbs aimed at him from her lips? ]

...I'm sorry. If I hurt you.

Because I can't take my eyes off you | @juridique

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