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Vikrov
Honey
- Joined
- Jun 30, 2017
Naud learned his lesson after his last visit: Saphra loathed flowers, no matter how sweetly they smelled, or as foreign as the dirt they grew from. Jewelry was rewarded with minor appreciation, small smiles that weren’t lacquered with falsities, but they never quite nailed the mark. Evoked the response that Naud was searching for, like it was a damn lost treasure. He tried weapons, knives with embellishments that took months to engrave, and while that had been an interesting prop in their less than orthodox endeavors, that was where the enjoyment ended.
“Take me away from here,” Saphra buried in his shoulder, before being whisked away into sleep.
And those words remained like a scar.
It’s a volatile but tempting idea, and it’s one that’s rarely been tossed in the air; seeing as the last time Naud extended an offer of invitation, Saphra’s shoulders nearly jutted up to their ears, taunt as a bowstring and quiet for the longest minute Naud’s ever suffered through. There wasn’t an answer, not a distinct one at least, but some forced uncoiling and a clear effort to diffuse any tension with a comment about cabin fever with all those idiots he called a crew.
The captain persisted, not the least bit deterred, a relentless stubborn creature, he’d been called with varied answers. Some hopeful, others left the taste of ash in his mouth. Never outright did Saphra say yes, never reached out with their own hand. Not until that night, laying in the sand at the edge of the ocean like a pair of lovers that had been washed up. When Naud carried Saphra back to the brothel, greeted by muffled giggles and whispers, ones Naud knew he would be slashed wide open for in the letters that always found him.
In the month that gaped between them, days are filled with distraction and dwelling for separate reasons. Regret taking root in Saphra and festering, shame, revulsed with themselves for clinging at any possibility of a life beyond a drawer full of letters and late-night visitations that arrived on their doorstep once in a blue moon. Together they had matching reputations, old and new bounties they compared over too many drinks and laughed until the sun came up.
While Saphra’s identity had been scrubbed, Naud’s remained infamous and drew attention from every corner. He had to keep moving, and Saphra would only slow him down. Regardless of the fact he introduced this entire idea.
It’s a bad idea, forged out of poor judgement, but of course this didn’t stop Naud. It never did.
The strangest client walked through Saphra’s door, they jerked up and away from any increment of touch, and when Saphra opened their mouth to ask if everything was alright, they turned around and walked straight back out. This quickly prompted a poor vastly confused tiefling to follow with rapid steps and hurried knotting of their robe. “I’m sorry, have I don’t something wrong?” they rushed out, partially out of breath, and that made the boy shake his head, redder than the lampshades, walking faster like he had the devil on his heels.
The cooling evening air hits Saphra’s bewildered face as they watched the other break out into a sprint towards the ship. Then something sharp twisted in their gut when a heavy set of hands landed on their shoulders, pulling them forward, up, and over broad shoulders. Panic instantly set in, and Saphra swung a hand towards their side, and a series of realizations came tumbling in an avalanche of mixed emotions. First, they were unarmed, seeing as they were with a client and didn’t need a hand groping their ass and the edge of a leather sheath. Second, the the person they’re being manhandled by smelled achingly familiar. And when the situation finally settled in they clung to the captain’s coat collar, letting out a laugh that sounded misplaced.
“Naud! I could’ve killed you. Slit your throat, you stupid man. You would have deserved it.”
“Come now, Saphra, play nice.”
Straightening their spine, Saphra supported themselves on each shoulder with their claws digging not unpleasantly through the layers of fabric. Change frightened Saphra the most, but when they stared downward, drinking Naud in, they discovered none. Same hopeless captain. Their hand removed, switching further weight into their other arm as they cradled the underside of Naud’s jaw, running their thumb along the edge until they curved around the spot between jawline and the ear. They leaned in to press a kiss there, knowing it’s sensitive, and reveling in the slight adjustment in Naud’s hold.
“I did miss you,” they admitted, then with some half-felt exasperation. “Unfortunately.”
“Take me away from here,” Saphra buried in his shoulder, before being whisked away into sleep.
And those words remained like a scar.
It’s a volatile but tempting idea, and it’s one that’s rarely been tossed in the air; seeing as the last time Naud extended an offer of invitation, Saphra’s shoulders nearly jutted up to their ears, taunt as a bowstring and quiet for the longest minute Naud’s ever suffered through. There wasn’t an answer, not a distinct one at least, but some forced uncoiling and a clear effort to diffuse any tension with a comment about cabin fever with all those idiots he called a crew.
The captain persisted, not the least bit deterred, a relentless stubborn creature, he’d been called with varied answers. Some hopeful, others left the taste of ash in his mouth. Never outright did Saphra say yes, never reached out with their own hand. Not until that night, laying in the sand at the edge of the ocean like a pair of lovers that had been washed up. When Naud carried Saphra back to the brothel, greeted by muffled giggles and whispers, ones Naud knew he would be slashed wide open for in the letters that always found him.
In the month that gaped between them, days are filled with distraction and dwelling for separate reasons. Regret taking root in Saphra and festering, shame, revulsed with themselves for clinging at any possibility of a life beyond a drawer full of letters and late-night visitations that arrived on their doorstep once in a blue moon. Together they had matching reputations, old and new bounties they compared over too many drinks and laughed until the sun came up.
While Saphra’s identity had been scrubbed, Naud’s remained infamous and drew attention from every corner. He had to keep moving, and Saphra would only slow him down. Regardless of the fact he introduced this entire idea.
It’s a bad idea, forged out of poor judgement, but of course this didn’t stop Naud. It never did.
The strangest client walked through Saphra’s door, they jerked up and away from any increment of touch, and when Saphra opened their mouth to ask if everything was alright, they turned around and walked straight back out. This quickly prompted a poor vastly confused tiefling to follow with rapid steps and hurried knotting of their robe. “I’m sorry, have I don’t something wrong?” they rushed out, partially out of breath, and that made the boy shake his head, redder than the lampshades, walking faster like he had the devil on his heels.
The cooling evening air hits Saphra’s bewildered face as they watched the other break out into a sprint towards the ship. Then something sharp twisted in their gut when a heavy set of hands landed on their shoulders, pulling them forward, up, and over broad shoulders. Panic instantly set in, and Saphra swung a hand towards their side, and a series of realizations came tumbling in an avalanche of mixed emotions. First, they were unarmed, seeing as they were with a client and didn’t need a hand groping their ass and the edge of a leather sheath. Second, the the person they’re being manhandled by smelled achingly familiar. And when the situation finally settled in they clung to the captain’s coat collar, letting out a laugh that sounded misplaced.
“Naud! I could’ve killed you. Slit your throat, you stupid man. You would have deserved it.”
“Come now, Saphra, play nice.”
Straightening their spine, Saphra supported themselves on each shoulder with their claws digging not unpleasantly through the layers of fabric. Change frightened Saphra the most, but when they stared downward, drinking Naud in, they discovered none. Same hopeless captain. Their hand removed, switching further weight into their other arm as they cradled the underside of Naud’s jaw, running their thumb along the edge until they curved around the spot between jawline and the ear. They leaned in to press a kiss there, knowing it’s sensitive, and reveling in the slight adjustment in Naud’s hold.
“I did miss you,” they admitted, then with some half-felt exasperation. “Unfortunately.”