abraxaslogs | [ CATCH-ALL ] the wishes I've made are too vicious to tell

[ It has been a restless few weeks since the gods and their effects on the city and the Summoned have retreated. Ciri's spent most of that time trying to come to terms with some of the things she'd done and seen the previous month. The people she'd hurt. How close she'd come, too frequently, to losing her grip on her own control. It's left her shaken and skittish, spending most of her days out in the desert going after scavengers targeting the previously-undead-now-dead-again corpses still being cleaned up from the main roads and the city outskirts. But she doesn't feel like packing up and riding out further than a day's journey beyond the walls. Not yet. Not this time.

She doesn't want to be alone that long.

When Ciri comes home, Jaskier is usually around. Geralt's been here more often too, apparently taking a similar approach to Ciri's, though they do not outright talk about it. She goes to the Sarstina to see her friends there and be around familiar faces, or invites Julie and sometimes Nadine over to drink and talk and play card games. Sephiroth has also made a few appearances; Ciri's asked him to stay and drink late into the night sometimes, eat with them, though they haven't been alone yet.

Tonight, the plan is different. Just him.

Ciri cashes in on Julie's offer to get the others out of the apartment for a night. She makes sure the wine and liquor is well stocked (it always is) and there's plenty of bread from the bakery below, meat freshly hunted, cheese and fruit from the market. The nights are cold now, and a hearty pot of stew has taken up residence over the fire on the stove. They definitely won't get hungry.

A crackling hearth heats the front room, where there are a few soft chairs alongside a low sofa and table, open to the rest of the kitchen and dining table. It's warm inside, and Ciri's dressed in a thin white dress that definitely looks like it's supposed to go under something -- but she isn't wearing anything else over it, and nothing on her legs beneath but slippers. Her hair falls down in soft waves past her shoulders, bouncing a little when she opens the door to greet him. ]

Hi. Come on, don't just stand there. You're letting the cold air in.

[It’s been strangely relaxing, spending more time with Ciri late into the evening. For so long, the barracks had been the focal point of so much of his time: both official and leisurely. And though the last few weeks had left little room for the latter, he made a point to carve out time where he could. To take on patrols and responsibilities during the daylight hours, a little extra here and there, to keep his evenings free.

More and more, it makes him realize how much he had been deprived of back home. How much Shinra had been comfortable to him only because it was all he knew; how there was never any true warmth in that place, not like the kind he finds couched within the walls of Ciri’s apartment. It is a slow but steady realization that he had been lacking in so much until now.

And, as she opens the door to greet him, smiling as she is, dressed as she is, it is a strange clench around his chest that informs him of how long he had been deprived of her, too.

Sephiroth straightens and offers her a faint smile. He is dressed… in his military uniform, with the top few buttons undone. How very casual of him today.]

It smells nice. [He comments as he steps over the threshold. The scent of stew is catching in his nostrils, as well as the waft of warm, freshly baked bread. No, they’ll not grow hungry tonight. He teases a little:] Are you expecting company other than myself?

[ She shuts the door behind him, locks it for good measure, and comes back around, energy and spirits clearly high. Judging by the pink in her cheeks, she might've opened a bottle already. ]

No.

...are you?

[ Ciri cocks a hand on her hip, squinting up at him like she might be serious (she's not). ]

[The smattering of flush along her cheeks informs Sephiroth that yes, she's already started without him. Is she serious? (No, even he knows she's not.)]

Yes. [Flatly, but he, too, is joking.

Crosses his arms, looking down at her.]

...I've invited my entire regiment.

[ Ciri matches his serious expression. Lets out a thoughtful hum, tapping her chin. ]

Mm... we're going to need more food.

Pity I'll have to get dressed again.

[Ah, okay. There goes his bluff, it would seem. Without missing a beat-]

Actually, I just remembered. They canceled.

[He allows himself a smile cast in her direction. Sephiroth's brow raises; no need for her to hastily get dressed.]

More food for us to last the whole night through.

That's what caught your attention?

[ The serious façade breaks, and she can't help but laugh, shaking her head. ]

You are so weird.

What do you want to drink?

[Of course that's not the first thing that's caught his attention; but the humor seems to land, regardless, and Sephiroth's smile quirks a little keener at the edges.]

Am I spoiled for choice?

[He has been in this world; his drink of choice back on Gaia was little more than whatever could keep him hydrated at the time.]

Something strong.

[ She does enjoy seeing him smile; it feels satisfying, especially when it manages to be so obvious. He might've almost laughed!

Ciri snickers, stepping a little closer just to tease him, flicking her dress up around her thighs to brush his leg with the ruffles when she spins quickly enough for the skirt to billow. ]

I'll spoil you if you ask nicely.

[ She's in the kitchen in no time, pulling down a bottle of vodka from a high shelf. The Witcher household does not believe in shot glasses; the vodka is served in a regular pewter mug, straight up. They don't believe in mixers either, apparently. ]

[Oh, this woman. Utterly wicked with a smile like that, teasing him in an airy way with the ruffles of her dress. An elegant spin, and his eyes can't help but trail down to how it flares out around her legs and hips.]

I...

[Then she's disappeared into the kitchen, and Sephiroth swallows down whatever words he had, warmth bubbling up in his chest. While she brings out the vodka (he hardly cares if they're to drink it in a mug; what does he know about how alcohol is supposed to be served?) he wanders over to the dinner table to grab a bowl for himself. Vodka and... stew? Sure, why not.]

[ She saunters back to the table with the cups and the bottle, setting both down, and then grabs them each a bowl. There's already bread on the table, as well as a pat of butter in its tray, a small salt cellar.

Ciri sits across from him, and raises her cup. ]

I'm glad you came over.

[She doesn't have to wait on him, but she looks so glad to do so, he can't bring himself to say as much. Instead, once she sits and raises her cup, Sephiroth mirrors the gesture.]

We don't get to do this enough.

[Though with his evenings more open, opportunities should present themselves with some frequency.]

Indulge in time alone, I mean.

We could do it more. When we're both in the city, anyway.

[ She slides her foot across the table, nudging her toe against his ankle. ]

What do you think?

[He takes a sip, just as the toe of his boot nudges back, playfulness hidden under the tabletop — fitting for a man like him.]

About the drink, or spending more time with you? One of these two should have an obvious answer, Ciri.

[ She catches his ankle with both feet and a huff of a laugh, releasing him after a just a moment. ]

Indulge me.

[His smile is warm as his ankle’s caught, and it doesn’t fade away once he’s released.]

Spending time with you is paramount.

[Such a declaration, easily said. But Sephiroth has had time to think about this in quiet moments to himself, lost in thought as he often is.]

I’ve been deprived of… plenty, before this world. Deprived of having someone like you with me. I want to make up for it, as much as circumstances will allow. If you’d have me.

[ She relaxes, though she doesn't pull away entirely; that steady contact beneath the table continues, casual and easy.

Paramount, he says. It sounds so formal.

Ciri's devilish grin softens into a more sincere smile, something almost shy, but warm. It's interrupted only slightly by the way she pulls her lower lip between her teeth, the gesture an absentminded nervous tic. She chews on it there a moment, struggling between wanting to sound nonchalant about it all and how much she actually cares. It makes her anxious, so Ciri takes a moment to consult with her wine cup again. ]

I'll allow it. [ She says it teasingly, but there's a nervous, eager energy just beneath the words. ]

In fact, I was considering how much I'd like to have you tonight. Here.

--well. In the bedroom, not on the table. Should be considerate.

[Airy as the reply is, Sephiroth knows there’s weight behind it. He likes the look of her, too, trying to stave off shyness — or the consideration that must be flitting through her head as she worries at her bottom lip. He has enough sense to only smile, though, and not comment on it.]

I’m honored.

[That she’d allow it.

And then she mentions him staying overnight— using the bed, not the table, and Sephiroth’s brows raise. Embarrassment is not nearly as keen as it once was, but she still catches him off-guard; not to mention putting lurid images in his head with a throwaway comment. The table...]

I’d be lying if I said… I hadn’t been thinking about it since. [Thinking about what? Staying the night? The things they did to each other before, and how they might repeat it somewhere a bit more comfortable? Both.

Time to take a long pull of his drink.]

It’s been a distraction, you know. Remembering what we did. I’ve skewered too many training dummies in half during the day.

[(This is couched as a joke, of course. As though he cares about his training regimen comparatively.)]

[ Her smile pulls up sharply into a wicked smirk. ]

I'm flattered to know I'm that distracting. Though perhaps it's not such a compliment when they've got you fighting dummies all day. I could cut one of those in half as a child! What is the military wasting resources on?

[ She leans forward to serve herself some of the food and bread out on the table, takes another drink. It's mostly a cover for how she's trying to keep casual about the topic when she's not sure how to approach it without getting embarrassed. ]

...I did have a pleasant time though. Despite-- you know. It wasn't the ideal situation. [ What with the influences of those beings obviously affecting them. ]

But I enjoyed our time together, even so.

It's flattering when you know that my concentration is rarely broken.

[At least when it comes to fighting, training; one of the very few things he found pleasure in before his arrival in this place. There was very little room for distraction in his mind, but Ciri has wound through his thoughts more often than not, in ways he cannot help but indulge himself in.

Sephiroth helps himself to a bit of freshly baked bread, still warm.]

No, it wasn't ideal, but I feel the same way.

[Though perhaps if they had waited for an "ideal" time, it never would have come. Given the state of the world, even a small moment of peace like this one hardly feels guaranteed.]

But maybe this time, we can try it without crossing blades first.

[ She pushes the butter dish toward his side of the table automatically, the little jar of spices to flavor it if he wants. This feels so... relaxing, somehow. Comforting. Sharing a meal with someone whose company she enjoys, the light buzz of the wine, the soft crackling of the fireplace. It all feels very homey in a way she's long resigned herself to knowing isn't something she'll have -- and now, here she is, and she has all that and more.

This place, for all its frustrations and uncertainties, still feels more like home than anything she's experienced in a very long time. ]

...hah. [ A soft laugh escapes her. Ciri reaches over to break off her own piece of bread to nibble on. ]

We can try it. If it's no fun, we'll just bring the swords out again.

[ Her lips quirk, clearly teasing. But there's something more to it too, her attempts at being snide not entirely covering the shy eagerness, or the want in her eyes. ]

You know... we have the place to ourselves tonight. Don't think anyone will be home until morning.

[Sephiroth could say the same. This place is the closest to "home" he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. It's not only safe, for Shinra provided him safety amid its steel walls, but it is grounding. His existence does not feel like a job, like a mission to be fulfilled; it simply feels like he might be appreciated for living, not working.

He picks up the little jar of spices, turning it over in his hand, the coziness of the whole exchange imbuing itself even in Sephiroth's mind.]

No fun? [He does laugh at that. Adds a little bit of the spice to his meal.] If we label it "no fun", then we've truly failed in some aspect.

[Green eyes lift to meet her. That hint of eagerness is reflected back, subtly, in kind.]

So you want to take advantage of the time to ourselves. I suppose we should see... whether or not we can make it "fun" or otherwise.

I think it's worth trying out. Just to make sure.

[ She tries not to blush when his eyes meet hers, and doesn't really succeed, though she does manage to keep her voice light despite the way her heart rate is picking up already. ]

Actually, I remembered recently... I won a prize, many months ago, at the peace talks summit. [ That ultimately went nowhere, but she's not keen on lingering upon that subject. She presses on, despite the heat deepening the red in her cheeks. ] A potion meant to be used... for fun. Supposed to make everything feel a little better.

We could share it. If you want.

[ By this point, her facade at playing all this cool is totally shattered. She has to look away, fidgeting with her cup. ]

[A potion used for... fun? Can you hear the gears straining in his head?]

...An aphrodisiac? [He blurts it out, surprised that such a thing would be given away at the peace talks, and only belatedly realizes her look turning embarrassed, skewing away from him.

He suddenly feels it, too, feeling warm across his cheekbones.

Sephiroth clears his throat.]

I don't know what kind of message that sends, given out as a prize by officials. [It's weirdly amusing. He looks down at his food.] But it would be thoughtless to waste it.

[ At least she's not the only one feeling awkward. She spots that blush, and feels a bit more comfortable about her own. ]

...hm. I hadn't considered that.

[ About whatever message they were sending. Probably none. Just showing off some sort of alchemy. It probably says something that it hadn't really made an impression on Ciri -- and that she'd kept it, though she hadn't really had any occasion to use it. In fact, she'd largely forgotten about it, until the prospect of sharing it with Sephiroth suddenly hit her recently. ]

O-only if you want to. I just thought of it.

[ She shrugs, trying too hard to be casual about it.

In truth, she's still a little anxious, and had considered it would probably help. It's why she's had some to drink already too. ]

for sephiroth; mid-november.

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