"Really now? You think I'm special?" Mara purred, resting a cheek in palm as she leaned against the bar, bright eyes staring up at him with curiosity and affection. "Aren't you? You're so jovial and friendly. Vibrant. You.." mind blanking momentarily, he stared in a daze for a tick or two before regaining his senses once more. "You're alive." He finally managed to verbalize, and the pain in his heart returned. Why was it so hard to let go? You're alive, and she's not. The young man shot Mara a wistful smile, and the latter took his words in quietly, before she flashed her own set of pearly whites in reciprocation. "Well... Thank you. You're very sweet, Nehtsh," and even though she said these words so very sincerely, they did not reach him. The only thing that truly caught his attention had been the nickname, in an accent that the further he was from home, the less he heard of. On most days, he was hardly bothered if someone addressed him so familiarly. Heck, hed even brought it up himself on occasions. Indeed, there was a vague sense of homesickness the plagued him chronically, but he had it under control, he swore. It was only in light of recent events that everything seemed to weigh on his mind more, but it would pass in due time. Lhavit was his home now, the mountainous stronghold serving as a perfect barrier against the storms that chased him.
Was it?
Most days, being reminded of his home bothered him not. Though he had already lived a solid two years in the Jewel of Kalea, there were always a curious handful who sought to learn more of his foreign culture, to understand his heritage and the divinity of his multi-armed race. But today, tonight, he truly was not keen on being reminded of the glittering sands far away, murmuring his name in the wind, of the remaining sisters he had left behind without so much as a word. The dreams, Ahnouk, Niki. He had hoped the Inn would give him what he wanted, what he needed, but he had yet to forget. And now... Mara too, would not let him?
Sensing the change in mood, Mara settled a soft, scented hand on one of his many shoulders, anchoring him back to reality. A lighthouse, like one of Priskil's watchtowers, beckoning the lost sailor back to the safety of land. "Are you alright? Did I say it wrongly? I thought I heard that woman call you that a few times." She asked, concern evident in her features and tone. Blinking away the fog that had enshrouded his thoughts, he held his head in his hands briefly, dry laugh escaping him. "Fine, perfect. Drinking just makes me ponder more. Much, much more." He paused. "That sounded a little off though. Just Han will do." The boy raised his head once more, brushing off her concern with a well-practiced smile that seemed genuine enough to momentarily convince. "Is that so? What do you think of then? You always look like you've your head stuck in the clouds." She recieved merely a hum in reply. And so he shared, all the strange little thoughts that would drift over his mind, random things on an unbelievably wide scale, from poetry to silly theories. Tales. Haneht had never been the best storyteller, could never properly express himself and all his thoughts, so truly it surprised him when Mara somehow managed to keep up. Or at least, seemed to. In fact...
Mara was holding a conversation with him. An actual, two-way conversation that actually made sense, at least to him in his semi-drunken stupor. They spoke and teased at one another, playful banter turning into salacious whispers as time bled later into the night, and from her Haneht learned much of her childhood. Of Raeyn's childhood. How they had lost their mother, much like he had. Mara, in turn, learned a little bit more about the brunet's way of seeing the world. Unbeknownst to her, however, the kaleidoscope he seemed to look at everything through was far more complicated than she wouldve comprehended then. Despite his evident intoxication, he still had enough of his mind functioning to withhold his words, and only allowed her what he could afford to. Little things that seemed to matter, but in truth did not. He was quite good at exaggerating, after all. Eventually, he spoke less and let Mara do more of the talking, adding in his own bits and pieces here and there to show the he was still in the conversation.
"You're such a good listener."
Was he now?
At some point, they moved a little closer, got a little more comfortable around the other. Mara confessed her worries of Raeyn, and Haneht listened, because it was her voice, her person he was clinging on to now. He had come in search of a distraction, and perhaps Mara had been the best find yet. No dreams, nightmares, for him tonight.
"Are you courting anyone, Han?" Mara asked at some point, and for reasons unknown and incomprehensible to him, his magnificent hunter immediately came to mind. The name lingered on the tip of his tongue, but did not make it past rose petal lips, barricaded and sealed. "No, he answered, and she seemed quite satisfied, almost pleased even by the answer. "Only you, now." He added cheekily.
Gradually, the Eypharian found himself growing more fond of the barmaid. The redhead's coy smiles, jubilant chortling laughs, her ability to hold her liquor. Drank like a champ, she did, and he would be lying if he said he didn't find that attractive in a person. Even as the Inn quietened, as people begun to make their way home and others their room, he barely paid any attention to anything else but the Inarta. Stood by the doorway, he watched her clear plates and mugs, bid her colleague and few dawdling customers goodbye, and the dancer wondered why he had been so reluctant to Mara before, never realised how pleasant she was to be around or how warm the very air around her could be. The light that danced in little flecks of pigment in her eyes, the grace of her neck and slim shoulders and waist. Truly, a stunning rose.
Naturally, Haneht wanted it for himself. The most beautiful things, he had to touch, had to have the satisfaction of simply having, even knowing the harm he might cause. The selfishness of his wants.
"Han?" Eyelids fluttered open - Mara was staring at him, saccharine smile dazzling and a telltale intoxicated flush dusting her porcelain complexion - and the Eypharian held an arm out in a most gentlemanly gesture. Mara happily slid her own into his, and he felt brazen enough to stoop down to meet her height and draw her in for a kiss, to which he found himself met with eagerness from the maiden herself. When they broke apart, much more flushed and warm than they had been moments ago, Haneht wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in the crook of her neck. A man-child clinging, almost desperately, but it was not Mara that he wanted, nor any of the sincerity she offered. Just her company, someone to warm his bed and chase away the despair, the loneliness he'd never willingly admit he felt. A bulwark against the restless horde of his greatest fears, demons born of his own actions.
It took a monster to fight one, but the Eypharian was vaguely sure that he was taking the saying very, very wrongly. None of this felt right, yet at the same time, as Mara wrapped her arms around him and brought the embrace to full-circle, there was a familiar sense of relief. Comfort. Excitement.
Lips trailing up to brush against her ear, he made a request that neither knew they would soon regret. "Come home with me."
