Visiting Lekivian (Mino)

[Fawn]

11th of Glade, 121

It had been a few days since Fawn's blow up with Lyra. She still felt guilty, shameful, the weight of her outburst hanging heavy on her heart as she gathered up a few things in her bag. Finally, clad in a white dress and riding boots, Fawn took a breath as she looked herself up and down in the mirror.

Better. Not perfect, not great, but better. She'd finally bathed, and her eyes didn't look so dark and hollow anymore either, though the black eye, bruised nose and other small bruises littering her body didn't help. No thanks to Naila. But she still hadn't smiled, not really. She practiced, though, curling her lips up into a painful, faux smile that she knew Mino would see right through. With a sigh she dropped it and turned from the mirror to exit the washroom. It was weird, even watching kids play in the streets, or reading books had not brought her joy. The thoughts of seeing Mino again, and in time Rickter and Telion... those were the only thoughts that kept her hopeful that she'd feel normal again some day. After all, it was silly to think she'd never be happy again. But it still felt strenuous to try.

Fawn took a breath, gazing down the set of stairs at Havershims- no- it was Lyras stairs. Just Lyra's. They were thinner, older, they had character but no meaning to them unlike Havershims. They didn't hide some dark deed or dungeon. She closed her eyes and quickly ran down them with a racing heart, nearly smacking into Lyra's desk at the bottom of the stairs. The woman wasn't in, but unlike last time Fawn did leave a small note behind.

'Headed to the Lekivians. Be back tonight, probably.'
Simple, but enough so if something went wrong Lyra would know where to find her.

Half an hour later, Fawn was staring up at the grand estate. A giant, white and blue building with architecture nearly as fine as the palace. Her face was flush with wonder, eyes wide as she approached the gate where a guard stood. The woman looked at her with a blank expression much like Lyra, though traced the girls form as if sizing her up. Sometimes it was normal to see girls show up here, asking to see Mino or another bachelor. After all it was the season. But seeing one so beat up and homely looking was not normal. Fawn didn't like the woman's gaze, feeling very much the same as when Havershim had looked at her. But she couldn't go on comparing every life event to him. It felt poisonous, like he still had her under his control.

"State your name." The woman said, her gaze firm.

Fawn took a deep breath. "Fawn Brisbane, here to see Mino, is he in?"

The woman raised her brow. "Fawn?" With the tiniest of smirks she turned on her heel and motioned for Fawn to follow. "Yes. Follow." Normally she would've turned them away, stating that they needed an appointment or at least a letter of announcement from the head of their own family. But this was Fawn. The strange girl who'd sent at least five letters in the span of two months to the estate, none of which had been returned. But all of which had been labeled with her strikingly exquisite signature. And word had spread throughout the estate as well, so perhaps it was by curiosity alone that the guard decided to lead her inside.

The gate opened, revealing the grand pathway lined with glade flora that was just starting to bud and blossom as they walked down the pathway. Fawns steps were quick, her hands clutching her crossbody leather satchel. She should be excited, not scared, not nervous. She should be in wonder of the flowers and the tiny baby rabbits that scurried away from those who came near. But he had broken that in her. She wanted it back, and she hoped Mino could help.

Fawn hurried along with those thoughts in mind, stopping only briefly at the steps that lead up to the door.

'Fucking stairs...' She grimaced, fighting between anger and fear as she hurried up the steps and even past the guard who shouted for her to stop. But she didn't until she got to the top and ran straight for the wall, breathing heavy not from exertion of lungs but from the memories that plagued her. Her teeth clenched as the guard came up behind her, a frown audible in her voice.
"Please do not run ahead, ma'am, one might think you mean to harm the household."

"Yes, I'm sorry..." Fawn said, turning to face the woman with a worried brow, pushing a strand of copper locks behind her ear that had fallen over her eyes in panic. Had it not been for the anxiety that shook her shoulders, the woman might not have believed her. But instead she sighed, her own brow contorting in a mixture of annoyance, confusion, and pity as she opened the grand door.

"Miss Fawn Brisbane is here to see Mino."

[Mino]

“Is this entirely necessary?”

Mino was used to his office being raided by the likes of Sky and Berry when they were particularly restless. He was used to the unexpected visits of Lady Blue and the demands that would surely follow. He was used to juggling a number of individuals at any time without a moment’s notice — but he would never be used to this. Maybe it had something to do with the way the young women of Purple carried themselves. Mauve was easiest to handle; she would throw herself into a fit of words he couldn’t keep up with before seeing herself out. It was a waiting game, essentially. But Violet, Iris, and Heather were something else. The polished wood of his desk had been turned into no more than a stool as Violet read out her budget requests. The heavy weight of Iris and Heather taking up space on either of his legs was bordering beyond an annoyance.

The Rathari liked to think he was getting better at handling them with each day they showed up. He’d traced the pattern of them musing at the paintings on his walls, and the bookshelves full of ledgers and novels he never actually read. They would move then to circling him like vultures, just overhead and out of reach. Then one would pounce, and while he was distracted with untangling their limbs from his own, the other two would find respective openings. They weren’t an acquired taste; they were an acquired tolerance.

Violet draped herself over the desk, legs kicking as she pouted. They’d been over this budget more than once, and she hadn’t wanted to budge from her initial proposal. But — he couldn’t allow her to spend whatever she wanted, even if she was outfitting the young girls and boys for the cotillion.

“This is absolutely necessary.” Heather this time. Her black hair hung over her shoulder, swung over with a flip of her head.

Iris batted her eyes. “This is practice, you know. Have to be prepared to persuade if we want something done, right?”

“This would work on anyone but me.” Mino grin was mirthless.

Every day since the tail end of Frost, he’d been approached in much the same manner. The start of the new year meant the start of new proposals, new plans. New budgets. While he might have been in charge of acquiring certain assets, Mino did still run point on all the finances. He wondered why they’d left him with such a task, but it became clear as the years went by that there weren’t many that could be trusted with this. Or capable. Sky could hardly sit still. Admiral, while somewhat literate, couldn’t stand numbers in any mathematic capacity outside of counting. Ocean....was Ocean. Berry wasn’t to worry about this and Lady Blue was much too busy playing head of house to see to something as mundane as an annual budget report.

It was times like these that he wished he could sneak away to see Fawn. He ran a hand through his hair, sighed as he listened to the girls rattle off their ideas for the budget, and the incoming cotillion. When was the last time he’d seen her? Frost, no doubt, before he’d gotten swept up in...this.

“I’m telling you — I need at least this much for the tule and silk.” Violet had practically thrown herself into his lap, joining Heather and Iris in the simpering. His hands remained firm on the armrests of his chair, pupils constricted.
Mino sucked in a breath, glanced at the girls. He opened his mouth to speak, words of dismissal to the absurdity of the budget she wanted when the door was pulled open. People didn’t often knock in this house, not where Mino was concerned. What would be the point? Not just anyone was walked in.

“Miss Fawn Brisbane is here to see Mino.”

A chorus of yelps sounded as Mino jolted in his seat. Heather and Iris clung to him before they could be thrown off, Violet forcing more of her weight to keep him seated. He might have missed it with how he leaned back in his chair to see the girl in question, but the three shared a look that could only spell trouble. The lift of perfectly arched brows and widening of eyes as slow smiles spread over their faces.

“Fawn—”

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Violet yanked him forward by his tie.

“Is this the Fawn we’ve been hearing about?” They’d heard exactly nothing from him about the woman, but her letters had been enough to pique their interest. Namely — her penmanship had.

Iris moved from her spot on Mino’s lap as Violet clicked her tongue, chiding with a soft naughty kitty. The vultures had turned their attentions to fresh meat, one swooping in to scope out the scene. Iris tossed her blonde hair back, hands on her hips as she sashayed her way around Fawn.

“She’s not anything too special to look at.” She hummed softly as she did the circle in reverse. “Hair’s a pretty color, I’ll give her that.”

“What in the fuck is she wearing?” Heather trailed a hand over Mino’s chest, pushing off to stand shoulder to shoulder with Iris. “Shit, Vi, you should see this. An absolute disaster.”

“You’re supposed to be a dignified lady around guests.” Mino’s tone matched the simpering cadence the girls had had only moments before. “Watch your mouth, or maybe I’ll be paying Lady Lavender a visit to speak with her about this budget.”

“Fuck off. You’re the one dragging in strays off the street.” Heather covered her mouth, poorly stifling a laugh. Her gloves were the same color as her hair, a stark contrast from the blue of her eyes and the soft purple shade of her skirt and blouse. “She looks like she lost a fight with a horse. Smells like one, too.” She leaned in close to Fawn, smile kinder than the words she intended to speak. “Be honest; you pissed off a customer or something while you whoring around, didn’t you?”

[Fawn]

11th of Glade, 121

More than just penmanship, Fawn's name had gotten around as 'the one in the palace'. She'd been spotted a few times by visitors during her stay, and even word of what had happened had started to circulate through the city. Though it may not have if Talon hadn't gotten involved, and many even wondered how much of the rumors were true. At this point though, most were not. The simplicity of her stay was far less interesting than gossipers had made it out to be, and perhaps Mino was the only one to truly know that.

But she'd sent letters. Letters that hadn't been answered, and part of her wondered if he'd even gotten them or if he simply ignored them. But she had to trust that he was busy, and not that he'd lost interest in her friendship. So as she stepped into the estate, heart beating out of her chest, she was shocked to hear her name slip from the lips of a stunning woman with long black hair. She was like a raven, or perhaps a midnight mustang freshly glowing from a bath in the lake under a full moon. Fawn's brow furrowed, uncomfortable as the pair eyed her, circling her like prey that made her stomach turn over.

But her eyes kept flicking between them and Mino. It was the first time she'd seen him like this in weeks. She'd nearly forgotten his chiseled features and kind, curious eyes, the same ones that seemed confused to see her, shocked even. She didn't smile, hell it hurt to in some ways after what Naila had put her through. Nearly three straight days of sparring that left her littered in bruises and scrapes. The first day had been the worst as far as injuries went, but the third day was longer. She felt as though she wasn't getting anywhere, wasn't progressing, and instead was left simply running into the fists of Naila with no end in sight. And now, she wondered if she'd ever get better, ever be able to protect her people or even herself. Standing in the middle of the room while the girls circled only proved to deepen this fear, and caused Fawn's shoulders to sink inwards as she glanced up at Mino.

But his face. His damn face, the way he looked at her like he was glad to see her- it wasn't an obvious expression but it was there, and it gave her exactly the amount of relief she needed to relax her shoulders back and take a step forward towards him.

"Mino, I-" As she spoke she was cut off by the judgement of the women who changed the direction of her circle, eyes trailing over her hair and shoulders. Fawn stopped in her tracks, realizing she'd have walked right into the much fancier woman. But, it meant she was getting in the way of Mino. Of her seeing him, and gods all she wanted to do was be near him.

Her brow twitched, Fawn looked down at herself. "I donna see anythin' wrong with me outfit." She said. Perhaps it wasn't smart, hell she should have known better after Havershim, but this woman no matter who she was was getting in the way of her seeing Mino. And being around him even if at a distance reminded her of who she used to be. Before Havershim. When she used to kick men in the balls just for looking at her the wrong way. Though, the womans word did sting deep. They were the same as his after all, though coming from different lips. So with a deep breath she retorted, her brow contorting in a mixture of annoyance and defensiveness. "Aye, and now his body is headless and toasty as a crisp. So I'd say I walked out just fine." Her heart raced, though. It was a quirk she'd picked up from Mino unconsciously, telling just enough truth to let the other party fill in the gaps. If they believed her to be the one who beheaded him, fine. Otherwise the reasons for her current injuries would stay between herself and Mino.

She did not return the woman's smile though. Hell, she hadn't returned any, even feigned, since that day. But finally admitting that she was just fine felt... strange. Like maybe she would be.

[Mino]

The last time Mino had seen Fawn, he’d been a cat. Much of his visits to her had been that way. A larger than average caracal with a ribbon tied around his neck strutting his way into the palace. He hadn’t minded it then, but now — he felt oddly naked. Like he was exposing more of himself. It might have had to do with the fact that his face as an animal wasn’t expressive as when he took on a form that required only two legs to move around. It had been so much easier to hide before the simple trills and mewls that Fawn hadn’t been able to understand. He couldn’t do that now. It might have also had to do with the fact that she was here, in his place of residence (he couldn’t call it a home if it never really felt like one) and in front of his would-be siblings. Cousins, in a sense. The same cousins that seemed to take great joy in the words that left Fawn’s mouth.

The first peal of laughter left Heather. Her shoulders lifted with her fit of giggles and she might have looked like a harmless school girl if not for the manic light in her eye. A look he knew well from the short time he’d spent with them when Purple had first been arranged. “Gods above, she’s a fucking hick!” She turned her head to look at Mino. “You got br—” She pressed her lips together and snickered at the look he shot her.

Bile churned in his stomach. Their first meeting in a number of days he didn’t want to count, and this was how it began. He licked his lips, took a step closer before he rocked back. Him stepping in now would only serve to make things worse.

“That word is totally three arcs ago, Heather.” Iris did one of those dainty faux-laughs that could have amounted to a snicker if she put in any actual effort. “And it’s super rude to call her that. Isn’t that, like, a slur or something?”

Violet snorted. “There’s everything wrong with your dress. And your boots. They actually let you walk in like that?”

Another chorus of faked laughter that didn’t seem to die down, even as Fawn stood her guard. Admirable, really. Mino usually avoided the three at all costs. Fawn might not have been able to see him, but he could see her. Or parts of her. Parts of her that were bruised; what had she been up to? They looked fresh, not yet the molted yellow and green of healing bruises, but lingering on the cusp of turning shades. He stepped closer, ears twitching.

“Headless and toasty? I’m so scared.” Heather wiggled her fingers in Fawn’s face, expression one of delight. She’d found a new toy, and she wasn’t about to let up. “Aye, absolutely terrified.”

“Ew, you sound just like her.” Violet snorted again, resulting in the other two laughing harder.

No, maybe he should step in. He wasn’t exactly a master of it — but he’d seen enough of Lady Blue’s icy ire to replicate it by a fraction, he hoped. Mino slid his hands into his pockets, walked toward them with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It nearly faltered as he caught sight of Fawn’s face; not even a lifted corner of her lips. He felt his insides knot and his brows furrowed before he scratched between them with his thumb. His ring winked in the light of the room.

“Get the fuck out.” The ease of the words passing through his lips; he’d wanted to tell them those four words since they first walked in. Moreso when Fawn walked in. As harmless as they were, a threat lingered behind them as they were chased by a dimple-less smile.

The laughter died down slow, the girls pretending to wipe tears from their eyes. The curve of his smile was sharp, hinted at the peek of his teeth. The same that he hadn’t hesitated to sink into skin before when they’d tested his nerves. Heather might have tried it, if not for the weak smile sent her way by Iris. It turned into another raise of her brow as her gaze skimmed over Fawn a final time.

“Maybe next time come wearing something more chic, and less...I suck cock for cheap.” Iris smiled wider. “You’ve got a lot of competition this year, darlin’, and the last thing Lady Blue wants is to give Mino away to a bottom rung whore.”

“If I have to say it again.”

“I still want that tule in the budget.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“If you ask nicely, I will.”

He was sure to shut the door firmly behind the trio as they trounced off to terrorize someone else, no doubt. They didn’t have much work yet, what with proposals not yet being approved. He pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders slumping. He wasn’t sure if he could turn around to face her just yet. The masquerade of a stalwart, unaffected big cat was an easy one to wear when he was an actual cat. Slightly harder now with his defenses crumbled and stresses piled onto him. He licked his lips, pushed away from the door to offer her a smile.

She was there, and close. Not as close as they’d been before, but close enough that he could smell her. Not the same lavender fields and grassy knolls. He wasn’t sure that would ever be the same, but anything close to it would be alright with him. Would stop the surge of something he couldn’t quite name. It felt instinctual to close the gap between them, though he stopped short. A short distance between them. He sniffed, ears twitching as he cocked his head to the side.

When Mino had last seen her, he hadn’t needed to worry about words. He could give the rumble of his purr and simply listen to her — and conversation had been meaningless. Now, he struggled with the words he might use.

“You came to see me.”

[Fawn]

11th of Glade, 121

Three months ago Fawn might have sneered back at them. Flashed a devilish grin or been perfectly unaware of their insults. But now she understood. The shame that Havershim had planted in her had begun to fester and bleed into every aspect of her, make her feel as worthless as the dung on the bottom of a boot in searing. She wanted it gone, wanted them gone. She hated to admit it but their words stung her like wasps as they flitted about and jabbed at her dress, her speech, something she hadn't come to dislike nor even notice until moving to the city. Not many had made fun of her, or at least they hadn't to her face. Hell, many at the cabaret had enjoyed her 'hickness', if that's the word that could be used. But here, in the building whose walls were more expensive than her family's entire home, she was completely out of her element. This was an entirely different world.

She also realized early on that responding to their comments would do no good, and instead remained quiet with a clenched jaw aching from her previous spar. She breathed tensely through each exchange, letting them take turns making fun of whatever they wished. There was at least one thing that pulled her from the shame they so wished to instill in her; They reminded her of her home. The kids who used to make fun of her for her haircolor, how she'd been the only one in the town with it and thus an easy target for bullying. And in that way she felt a little more at ease with their banter.

When they finally left Fawn relaxed her shoulders as se studied Mino. His back, the span of it wider than she remembered but every bit as sturdy as she needed. The last few words she'd heard ran through her mind as she looked at him, waiting for him to turn.

Competitors... did they think she was here to court him? Her cheeks would have flushed, though the first thought that came to her mind was 'they're right'. Not perhaps in their specifics, but she was a nobody. No noble birth, hell no lineage to trace at all. A simple girl from a simple farm who got in way over her head and stole his time for the past two months. Guilt ran through her. But stronger than the guilt was her desire for him. To hold him, to melt into him, and to hear everything was going to be okay. The palace maids had tried to reassure her of this countless times, but she didn't know them. Their words meant nothing to her, but Mino's would have meant the world.

As he turned her heart quickened. He hadn't even gotten the last word out from his lips when she made a move towards him. She was about to jolt right into his arms until he stopped, causing her to pause as well and rock backwards. Did he.. not want to see her? If his family knew of her, but he had not responded, then why? She simply nodded, and attempted the smile she'd been practicing in the mirror for the past three days. It didn't reach her eyes, clouded instead by worry and a lack of assurity. "Y-yes.. I thought perhaps my letters did not make it to ye, but, it seems they did.." She paused, an awkward silence growing between them as she looked down at the ground. Her heart fluttered. She was scared. Not to touch him nor of him, but of what he would say.

"Have ye.. did ye stop wanting to see me? Is it okay that I came? If it wasn't I'm sorry- I just... I missed ye..." Her words were hurried and nervous, her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag and picked at the stitching with broken nails.

Was she foolish to come here when she could not handle hearing his disgust to her should he show it? But then, she never had been able to keep her mouth shut.

[Mino]

That urge to touch her grew stronger as she smiled, but didn't really smile. A ghost of an expression on an face clouded with worry and anxiety. So strong he could smell it. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Mino's fingers ached to reach forward and wipe away the smile. It hurt worse to see her try than it had to see her cry. And maybe he did step closer, an odd dance begun out of apprehension and uncertainty from both parties.

Mino halted as she asked if he'd wanted to stop seeing her. He didn't think that was something he could have ever considered. "No." That didn't cover the whole spectrum of how wrong it might have felt to even think of a moment of actual never seeing her again. Something he didn't want to dwell on. Not that he had time to do so since things kicked up. "I mean -- I did want to keep seeing you. I just." He sucked in a breath. His shoulder ached. "I got busy. New year business nonsense, and the family."

She'd only see three of his many family members, but he hoped that was indicative of what he had to deal with. He'd never hated words more than any other moment than this. Licking his lips, he took another step forward. "I got your letters, I did. No time to respond to them." Her shame might have been different from his own, but he felt it course through him. Ordinarily, Mino wouldn't care. He would contrive some sort of truth to give whoever demanded it of him when the question of correspondence came up, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the manufactured failings of his illiteracy. More money than he would have seen on the street, and he could be lucky to be able to string together the four letters that made up his given name.

Lady Blue had made it apparent that she'd make sure he'd never get beyond that.

Admitting that to Fawn would only serve to hurt both of them, and the truth he had given would fall apart under the weight of what they hid. He fumbled with another smile. They were mirrors reflecting the same image back at each other, for reasons that differed immensely. He rolled his shoulders, rocked back on his heels.

She'd missed him. Those words again. Three words he'd ached to hear from her, but not like this. His pupils dilated, shoulders drooping further. And he ached some more to reach out and steady her fidgeting fingers, but he couldn't do it. Not until she touched him. Something...cold in the back of his mind stopped him. Likely not the best word, but he didn't know how else to describe it.

"What happened with the eye?"

Not the easiest of transitions, but he was curious. She'd been on the road to a steady physical recovery when he'd last seen her. The sudden appearance of her bruises filled him with a fresh flash of worry, smothered behind nonchalance. He could jest with her, perhaps, but he couldn't find it in himself for fear that she had run into trouble again.

[Fawn]

11th of Glade, 121

He was too far away. She couldn't feel his warmth from across the room, the same warmth she'd missed for the past few weeks, though perhaps now it would have been different. The warmth of his beast form had not been forgotten, and throughout her time in the palace had come so accustomed to his presence as a cat that perhaps she now didn't dislike them as much as before. Especially now that his comfort had helped her through such a difficult time. Fawns breathing was shallow as she blinked in response to his admission. He'd been busy, just as she thought, as she'd hoped at least.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips while her shoulders finally relaxed down from the tense state they'd been in since standing before him. And then he took another step. Yet he was still too far away. She matched his step and stared into his eyes, listening to the words that came from his mouth but barely hearing them. How sweet his voice was.. how she'd forgotten it's depth and tenderness, as soft as velvet, in the time she'd spent recovering. But it hadn't just been that time, even before the incident she had thought of him. Wondered what he was up to, who he was with, how he was doing.

Admittedly, she had inquired about his home many times after he stopped showing up in the palace. The first time she'd asked people looked at her with disbelief, as if she should already know where to find the estate, or who he was. Sure she'd heard his name before at the cabaret, but until the last day in the palace hadn't truly understood the position he held. A Lord. Not just a simple four letters as she'd thought before. They held weight, power, expectation. But now, it made more sense. Of course he was busy. A lord, getting ready for the change of seasons, working in finances as he'd discussed with her before- it was no wonder he had no time.

'And... he's worried.' She brought a hand up to her eye to gently caress the skin, her heart beating fast as she realized what he must think. "Ah.. I've got someone teachin' me how to fight. Though I'm not very good yet. And she's a tough teacher." Fawn said sheepishly, her eyes falling to her feet. "I canna be weak forever." As her gaze rose, that's when she noticed.

Hanging from his neck was the ribbon. Tied so perfectly, as if he wanted it to remain there. Her heart fluttered, eyes wide. Finally the girl's anxiety seemed to dip as she realized- he did want to see her. He really, truly did. That despair and fear slowly replaced itself with some small flicker of joy that was held like fireflies dancing over the lake of her blue eyes. The smile that curved her lips this time matched the sparkle in her eyes.

"Ye kept it..." She said, her feet already moving her across the threshold until she stood just inches from him. Her hand reached out, and just like she would have done months ago took the ribbon in her hand and ran her fingers across it delicately. Her cheeks were flush as she suddenly pulled herself into his chest and buried her face into him. Her arms didn't wrap around him, instead both hands clutched his shirt as she pressed herself against him. As if refusing to let go.

Fawn's jaw clenched as she let tears of relief and joy spill from her eyes. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to touch her, perhaps even though he wanted to see her he wouldn't want to be touched in his home or when he was working, but she needed it. Needed him.

[Mino]

Worry was new. Worry was new when it wasn’t associated with work and the thoughts of what the Lady had in store for him. Worry for someone other than himself was an infantile feeling that he couldn’t make heads or tails of. Much like a young deer fumbling into a run for safety.

Mino didn’t think his heart was going to survive all these changes.

“Tough teacher.” It was a murmur, an echoing of her words. Tough teachers were plenty in his education in the house. And while they had been just as rough with him as a child as Fawn’s own had been with her, he liked to think there was a particular ruthlessness to them. He certainly had the scars to prove it, among other things. “I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting a soft teacher.”

But her wanting to not be weak was understandable. Not that he had ever really felt that she was weak. Innocent, certainly — but not weak. It wasn’t a word he’d considered and it hurt to think that was how she’d thought of herself. Seeing her now, here, made it that much clearer that she was stronger already. Being able to move about on her own, of her own volition after what she had gone through was commendable.

“Yeah, I did.” He might have blushed. A faint dusting of pink over his cheeks. He meant to smooth a hand over the tie, chest puffing at her having noticed. He’d kept it on his person however he could since he’d gotten it, had worn it for every visit to her in the palace. He ducked his head, suddenly sheepish. It was the swell of grass and sunshine that made him look up again.
She was smiling. Not the forced, empty gesture he’d seen earlier, but something real. Something tangible and when she latched onto him — it cemented her presence in the room and he that he wasn’t stuck in some twisted delusion contrived by Bumblebee and one of her students again. She was warm like he remembered, and small. Easy to wrap his arms around and stick his nose in her hair and inhale.

The thing with being a cat is the lack of opposable thumbs. The lack of fingers to tangle in Fawn’s hair and play with the curls. Hands to slide up her arm, settle just along her chin. All the times that they had touched and she had trembled — it was reversed. His nerves were getting the better of him. Mino looked at her perhaps as if he were seeing her for the first time, knuckles brushing the tears from her cheeks.

“C’mon now, little mouse. No tears today, yeah?” He would be in tears too if she kept this up.

[Fawn]

11th of Glade, 121

His heart was music. Not just like music, was music. The soft, quickening beats that thumped through his skin into her ear as she turned her head calmed her in a way no tea or drug had. Like falling into a placid lake that reflected the stars, she was reluctant to pull away as his hands tickled the sides of her arms and fingers gliding to her chin.

Gods. His touch. Like the morning sun settling upon her skin. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head to the side in search of more of his touch.

"Aye." Fawn sniffled, smiling as she opened her eyes again and stared up at him.

She could kiss him.

Fawn leaned her forehead against his chest and steadied her breathing, her hands clutching his shirt in a slowly softening vice grip. She could feel his trembles, the tiny shivers that made her wonder if he too had missed her as much. After a few quiet moments Fawn pulled away, laughing as she straightened out the tear-stained shirt and patting him down.

"Aish, I've made yer nice shirt a mess." The girl sniffled again, that same smile pulling at the corners of her mouth and finally lighting up the face that had been so glum for weeks. She pulled at the wrinkles as best she could, but the ribbon kept catching her eye. With a soft touch she grasped it between her fingers again and slid the satin around. "Ye know, it suits ye." She liked him in it, not just the color but in the ribbon itself. It was cute, and more than that it was like a reminder that he cared. That he wanted her around. If she were less naive perhaps she'd see the significance of it. Then again, so would he.

Fawn then stepped back with a long breath and adjusted the curls of hair that had been tossed about his skillfull hands. "Did ye wanna change? As I promised in the letter, I'd like ta' take ye out for icecream." She paused briefly as her eyes finally took in the room. The mountain of paperwork on the desk, and remembering something about budget mentioned from one of the girls.
"Unless yer busy, I understand."

Or at least, she would try to. There something inherently different about Fawn when she was with Mino. He made her want things, desire things, become selfish. If she were being honest she'd tell him she didn't want him to work. That she wanted to steal him away for the day for ice cream and cat naps and dancing in the streets while music played from lyres and the beat was made by clapping hands and feet. But she shouldn't. In the same way she shouldn't desire to kiss him.

[Mino]

He could kiss her.

Mino could lean forward, close the gap between them. He could stall for a second, take in her dewey eyes and the smile he’d been waiting for — aching for — and place his lips over it. Taste her finally. But she drew back before he could do even that. Her head came close to the brand and he held back the slightest of hisses. The skin was still tender, a tightening reminder of his inadequacies. His weakness. Something he was learning to adjust to protecting.

“Don’t worry about it; Violet’s always looking for an excuse to make me something.” He left out the bit that it was partly because she wanted to get her hands on him. Not in a family-friendly way, either. He lifted his shoulder in a shrug, dragged his knuckles over her jaw.

He could still kiss her. She was right there, in reach. Until she wasn’t — again. He thought back to the cabaret. The heady feeling of what could have been. Thought back to the fact that he’d also been a cat in heat and it would have probably reflected poorly on his self-control. Still reflected poorly. As she spoke, he closed whatever distance she had put between them. There was nothing but fondness to his grin, warmth that curled up in his chest like one of his cats come to rest there.

Mino hummed, cocked his head to the side. “I do still have some work, but it’s not much. And I’ve been needing a break.” He grimaced. “If I have to sit through another budget meeting like the last one, I might not have nine lives left.” Another reach for her hair, pleased to see it was better condition than the last time he had seen her.

She was better than the last time. She might have recovered then, but not fully. And she still wasn’t now, but this was a Fawn he knew. A Fawn on her way to being how she used to be. He let his hand trail up to her jaw once more, tipping her head toward him as his lips brushed against her forehead. He could still kiss her, but this would be as close as he could get until she smelled like herself again.

“I do not doubt you’re more than able to make yourself comfortable.” He dropped his hand down to grab hers, pulling her forward to chair behind his desk. “But this is the best chair in the room, fitting for my favorite mouse.”

He scooped up his glasses from the table, pushing them onto the bridge of his nose before retrieving his papers and setting to organizing them by the dates at the top. One set of many numbers that filled the page.