what a beautiful world

Velaris.

Velaris.

Led by Faust, full of the people she loved and others, outsiders who meant little to her yet. It was still something she found herself reeling from, the idea of it surreal. The Star Mother had truly blessed them and it was shown with each passing day.

Once everyone had settled in for the night after the days events, Tove had wandered off, overwhelmed and anxious to be alone. As much as she loved the others, she valued her peace and quiet. Valued the time she had to explore and increase her limited knowledge of these lands. Every day it seemed there was something new to discover; she couldn't get enough.

When she finally decided to settle in for the night, her slumber was short lived and as much as she tried, she was still finding herself cursed with sleepless nights. Waking up in a panic, sick to her stomach. Her body had felt cold despite the way her lungs burned and her heart beat so fast she feared it would tear right out of her stomach. She had wished to call out for someone, anyone but found herself slinking away to suffer in silence. This routine was growing exhausting.

Tonight, she’d munched on some funugreek to alleviate the ache she felt in her stomach, swallowing the bitter leaves quickly before setting off. She was happy to have easily found the herb once they had settled in; the plant was abundant in the grasslands.

Humming to herself, a quiet and whimsical sound Tove made her away throughout the night, her paws soft and careful. She always felt more at ease under the moonlight and the stars that lived in the sky. It was comforting. It made her feel like she truly belonged.

The valley was exceptionally beautiful and she was finding it to be one her favorite places. The vast grasslands, different plants and critters - what was not to like? It had taken her a little longer than usual to climb down some of the large rocks that led to her favorite spot, the dull ache in her stomach distracting and slowing her down.

Tove was hopeful that her chosen herb would help but she was doubtful, aware that anxiety was in its own realm of illness.

She hummed in approval when she finally made it, hazel eyes sparkling under the starlit sky. It was cozy and all hers. The grass was shorter here but lush and still green, wildflowers entwined in the blades. A small stream that she had yet to follow to see where it led created its own quaint tune, the water always cool and palatable. Large trees overshadowed the area, keeping it cool despite the balmy air that clung to her furs.

Tonight she decided she’d stay put and was quick to find a spot amongst the wildflowers, settling down in a lazy sit. Her jaws parted in a loud, squeaking yawn and she rolled her shoulders and wiggled her toes in a dozy stretch. She was silent then, listening to the chirps of wandering crickets and the trickle of the stream as she turned her gaze upon the sky. Beautiful.

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The titan had left the meeting in a disappointed fury. While it went well, he still couldn't believe the sentiment of letting strangers take refuge into his pack. The words were sour on his tongue. Refuge. The fuck did that even mean, really? They were getting their resources stolen for some 'apparent royalty—' Was that supposed to mean something Faust? Was that supposed to suddenly change his mind?

Evidently, it didn't. Those two would have to work. Work harder than they probably ever have in their entire life to be accepted by the Vale. If it was his choice, he would make sure The Deep had their name on it, a first-class ticket to meeting their demise. Stars, how he despised royalty. All they've ever done was escape such a sedentary life style. Faust made sure it didn't follow them here, but then some washed up on his doorstep. Trapped. He had no other choice.

He wondered in that moment when he accepted them what Tove would've said. What she thought about it all. That's why in the dead of night now, he searched for her eagerly. He thought he may find her by a stream, but to no avail was his search fruitful. His nose stuck to the ground, hopeful to pick up on her sweet, herbal scent.

It took him a moment, but he found it. Similar to a bloodhound, he was on the search. His paws carried him to the valley to a field of wildflowers. There, in the middle, she sit, full of solidarity. Faust almost felt bad for intruding on her peace.

"Tove—" he approached her, looking around briefly, then letting his muzzle nose the fur on her shoulder. A quick, hot swipe of his tongue brushed the fur there. Tove, Tove, Tove, his mind repeated. "You...are well?"

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Her breaths were slow and deep, dark chest rising with each steady inhale. She enjoyed the way the air tasted and the way it filled her body with a sense of tranquility, a feeling she had been missing as of late. There was nothing quite like the oasis that came with the hours of midnight.

Each twinkling star had her gaze dancing, full of awe as she watched. Part of her hoped to catch a flying star but Tove knew those were a rare occurrence. And she wasn’t that lucky. Wishful thinking, really.

The dark woman smelled her Sévir before she saw him and at first, she felt embarrassed. Full of shame for having snuck away to be alone. Surely he did not know she did this often. Had he come to bring her back? Scold her for having snuck away on such an important night?

What would the Outsiders think? The thought was fleeting and her lip curled almost immediately, brushing it off as quick as it came. Who cared what they thought? She surely did not. If they were all lucky they would go back to where they came from, back to their dirtied thrones and sullied crowns.

Tove sighed, a quiet and private noise for herself as she breathed in Faust’s scent, not minding the way it overshadowed everything else. He was a comfort, even if a bucket of whispered fears came along with him.

”Faust,” it was quiet and tender, a whisper in the wind. Her hazel gaze was wide and curious, afraid of what he may say - or think. Her growing fear however was halted when she felt his nose, gentle and cold against her shoulder, followed by a quick lick of his tongue that she might have missed if his touch didn’t feel like hot iron against her furs. It burned, her skin flush and mind whirling. She felt it to the very tips of her toes and it made her dizzy.

Breathless.

Slowly, Tove nodded at him, returning his touch with her own gentle nudge against the soft furs that pooled around his neck. “Yes.” She kept her words simple, hoping he didn’t push further. Faust had a way of reading her, realizing when she was holding things back.“What are you doing awake? Are you alright?”

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Faust's body had physically relaxed when his name surfed her tongue. The sound had been sweet, like the comb of a honeybee hive, and he only wished to take a bite. He wondered, mind churning, if she had spoken to other males like that. If she had said their names just as sweetly as she did his. It was a rudimentary thought of jealousy— but could he really be blamed? He was simply a man at the end of it all.

Her nose against the fur of his neck had been a gesture that sought to rid those heinous thoughts. It worked, no doubt, but a light frown washed over his features. Her answer had been short, too quick to answer his question. She wasn't alright. She hadn't exactly been alright at all since she's been home in the Roost. Was there something that he wasn't doing? Was this not home for her?

Had he not been doing enough?

Faust thought of different things that he could try to enhance her livelihood. She would swamp herself in work, not engage in many social activities, and...and was withholding herself from him. Give yourself to me, the words were desperate on his tongue, but he bit them back.

"Thinking." He said, moving his body so he laid on his stomach, feet imprinting on the wildflowers. "Lay with me," he would request of her, solemnly and low during the hours of the night. "Please."

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Her dark frame relaxed, loosened with the relief that Faust didn’t question her or push her. He was patient and benevolent, everything he always needed to be and it only made her heart ache. A dull throb she so wistfully ignored.

Tove caught the frown that slithered across his face, ears twitching and she’d huff at him. Just once, a hushed noise as if she feared to wake the night, hazel eyes glued to him like a moth to a flame. She didn’t like to see him frown; it didn’t belong on a striking face such as his. Moreso, the idea that he frowned because of her… well, that just wouldn’t do.

Before she could lighten the subject, Faust replied, his own answer short and sweet. Like hers: straight to the point. She wondered, was he too hiding something? Did he too have something buried deep that he didn’t want to share?

Oh how she wished to be able to see inside his mind, understand his troubles, his wishes, his desires.

‘Please,’ he asked her, a request from anyone else that would have had her rolling her eyes in protest. But with him, Tove wasted little time and was quick to comply. She told herself it was because he was her dearest friend, her Sévir but when she lay beside him, the fire she felt coursing through her veins was unlike anything she had felt with any of her other friends. Not with Savan, not with Tamir.

Only him.

She was quiet at first, focused on just the sounds of their breaths that seemed to echo through the night, that stream that flowed behind them a sweet melody in the background. Her head rested atop her paws, tucked neat under chin. Cozy. Safe. She lay close enough that their sides pressed together, their warmth bleeding into each other, scents mingling with that of the wildflowers they lay upon.

“Skoros's va aōha mind?” — What’s on your mind? she eventually asked him once the silence had become too much for her, inquisitive and perhaps even impatient. As Tove waited for a reply, she rolled over onto her back, enjoying the way the cool grass felt against furs that felt aflame. She gazed at the sky for a moment, breathing in unison with the twinkling stars before her attention was right back on Faust, gaze warm and inviting.

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The Titan could not but help chuckle at her words. On his mind. So it looked like he was troubled? How embarrassing for him to appear in such a displeasing manner. He molded his expression, turning it to something more neutral, easy to look at.

Her back was warm against his as they lay there together, united as one. For a brief time, it would be quiet before Faust answered. "Do you think me weak?" He'd ask her, unable to look towards her general direction. Embarrassment plagued him for such vulnerable thoughts.

"These new members—" He'd sneer, scoff at how well they'd weaved their way into his Vale. It troubled him, drove him mad at the mere thoughts. "Have I made a mistake—?"

He couldn't help but feel that the Star Mother willed it to be so, but he couldn't be sure. He needed to hear it from someone he trusted. Rather it be from her.

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 ‘Do you think me weak?’ he’d asked, his voice a whisper into the night and it made Tove stiffen, viridescent eyes widening in surprise. Faust, weak? Two words that did not belong next to each other - ever. At first, her lips parted and she was ready to interject without much thought but she stopped herself and instead, let him finish. Her teeth clenched as she clamped her mouth shut and the sharpness of canines pressing into skin grounded her as she listened, ears twitching with each word.

 She couldn’t help herself and as he finished, she was already rolling back over onto her belly to press her snout into his nape, applying gentle pressure with a hushed snort. She let her face rest within his furs, breathing in his woodsy and floral fragrance for as long as she could. She wished to take away all his troubles but knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing ever was.

  Reluctantly, Tove pulled herself away from him and let out a deep breath, readying herself. She knew she did not have all the answers for him but she would do her best. She would be his friend; she would speak her mind, as she always had.

 ”You…” she paused, clearing her throat. “You are not a weak man, Faust. You are anything but weak; look at all you have done. You have brought Velaris together, formed us into something that is unparalleled. One by one, you found us when we were all lost and in need of guidance. The Star Mother chose you, Faust. Not me, not Tamir - you. She chose you to be our Sévir and she does not make mistakes.” The words that tumbled from her were soft but firm and unwavering as she looked at him. Her expression was full of warmth and adoration that was hidden from most, hazel eyes dancing with raw emotion. There was no doubt spilling from her, no uncertainty. Tove believed every word she said.

  ”I believe you did the right thing, even if some of our newcomers come from unfavorable pasts.” She frowned then, her nose wrinkling in obvious distaste. “These new members must prove themselves, as we all have. We must show them what it means to be Velarian because the stars guided them to us. She does not make mistakes. We do not have to like them or make it easy...but we must give them a chance to succeed - or fail.”

 She gave a small nod once she'd finished, a smile tugging at her lips as mischief danced within her hazel gaze. Tove brushed her nose against his shoulders, huffing in amusement. "I really don't think we have make it easy."

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The Titan watched as Tove flipped to her belly. Her snout was frigid against the flesh of his shoulder. He could practically feel the drill of her against him. His ears flicked, absorbing her words. She had been right. He was chosen to lead them, not anyone else. The Star Mother chose him.

He simply had to remember that.

"Damn right they do." Faust would scoff, dismay full against the new members. It was already true that they had to prove themselves. He had no doubt about the lighter blue wolf, the one with his sister, but he had his doubts about the leftover royalty. "You know one of them was a princess?"

Faust would say, turning to angle his body towards Tove's. She was smaller against him. "Don't know if it's true."

He would shrug, not entirely confident about the calls to her lineage. For all he knew she could be insane, hearing voices that don't actually exist. Maybe it's an ego thing. Whatever it was, he still told Tove. He preferred to gossip with her.

"A goddamn princess."

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Tove held back a snicker, her lips tugging upwards into an amused grin at his reply, not sharing the same bout of dismay that oozed from him. She was glad to see him come to his senses, glad to see that he was in agreement that these newcomers had no choice but to prove themselves and that everything had happened for a reason.

She would hate to see what would happen if they failed, of the wrath they may face from Faust. He was a force, this man besides her. His strength unmistakable.

"A princess?" she gasped, frowning now. That was news to her. What was a princess doing so far away from home? Away from a castle and a throne? Did she know she would have to get herself dirty working to the bone to prove herself? A title, one that stunk of royalty, would not get her very far in Velaris. They had all to work for what they had: none of them had been born with a crone already placed upon their heads.

Ridiculous.

"She must feel very out of place here. At the bottom, unable to order everyone around." Tove huffed with a low chuckle, hazel eyes rolling in disapproval as she gazed towards the night sky. Ick, what a thought. A princess amongst them. Her teeth bared, furs bristling at the thought of a princess trying to tell her what to do. "What of her friend? Is he a prince?" Nosy, nosy. She couldn't help herself.

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Faust always found comfort talking with Tove. She had a humorous wit about her that held him by his neck. Had him trembling at the thought of her crumbling in his arms just as she had in that stream of water. How she took those steps at his side. Down under into a realm of trauma that he didn't understand— but he wanted to.

Faust nodded his head, confirming her statement. He wasn't happy about the royalty suddenly sullying his lands. They were a band of warriors, family. They didn't have a need to address each other with bullshit titles. Any of that. But with them...Faust was no better. They would address him as their leader.

"And that's where she'll stay," he grumbled, his lip curling with a sour taste in his mouth. "At the bottom. Until she loses that fucking attitude."

He didn't mean for the words to come off so harshly. He didn't. In truth, he wanted to see the prison and her dog succeed. Her dog— that was a different story. In the presence of his sister, bowed down to a princess that wouldn't spare him the time of day. What a fucking excuse for a man. But yet— Faust could imagine himself doing the same thing. If Tove claimed to have such a fear, such anxiety, he too would trail her like a lost puppy. Like he was her shadow.

The titan would do it in a heartbeat.

"Seems something like a servant," he snickered, his tongue coming over to wet his bottom lip with a certain intrigue. "A weird fuckin' dynamic, wouldn't you say?"

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At his nod, Tove couldn't help the fire that flashed in her gaze, nostrils flaring as she snapped her jaws together only to bare her teeth once more. She had noticed the way they carried themselves tonight, the woman especially, as if they were important. Important amongst Velaris. They looked uncomfortable, as if they had somewhere else to be. She assumed they were not used to being in that position, looking up upon those who ranked above them. Had they wished to take her spot? Or Faust? The thought made her furs bristle and skin crawl.

Royals.

Worthless. All of them. They would have to learn their place, one way or another.

"Don't like a woman with an attitude?" She quipped, teasing him with a gentle nip of her jaws despite the harshness of his words. She understood him completely but that didn't mean she wouldn't keep up the humor and lighten the mood as best she could.

His next comment had her meeting his gaze, her own laughter echoing in the night. Faust wasn't wrong, was he? The man acted like the princesses shadow, never leaving her side for too long. They even shared a den and she didn't believe them to be wed. It made Tove curious, her mind wandering to places that made her cheeks warm and stomach tighten. What would it be like to have a man follow her around at her beck and call? Annoying or perhaps... "I don't know," she admitted, a devilish smile tugging at her lips. "It wouldn’t be so bad to have my own servant.”

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Faust could always level with Tove. Find an understanding between them that they shared. Royalty, heirarchy, bloodlines were not meant to be idolized. To be preserved. Leadership rolled over to the next strongest candidate, not because their blood decreed them to be superior.

Even if Faust knew his bloodline would be strong. Him and his sister are proof of such a pedigree.

"I didn't say that," Faust quipped back in return, rolling himself onto his side so he could get a good look at Tove. His tone was playful, full of gesture and light-hearted texture. His brows lifted towards her, curiously. "You're quite full of it."

He watched as her expression changed. Her eyes transfixed elsewhere. Thoughts guided her away from Faust, and just as he was about to call out to ground her, she spoke. Her words had him by the neck, again. A smile tugged at her lips full of devilish intent. What're you playing at... he wanted to ask her, to force the words out of her mouth so he could get a straight answer from her.

Wouldn't mind a servant. Faust tsked, his lips coming together with click of his teeth. His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of tension that gripped his vowels and burned his tongue. "Oh, really?"

His shoulders tensed as he straightened, then crooned his neck towards her, ears pinned against his head. "What would you have this servant of yours do?"

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Tove's touch was never lost upon him. It stained him. Phantomed it's place against his skin. He found himself missing such warmth, such memories with her in moments like these. Secluded, alone. Moments that he didn't share with anyone else.

When his head lowered towards her, he watched as she didn't shy away from him. Notice the way her eyes rolled over the features of his face— his own would do the same, carving the perfect memory of her delicate face into the deepest corners of his mind. How could he not? Not when she smelled so sweet and he could feel the warmth of her body radiating from her. Like a moth to a flame he was, wanting to shift himself closer to her. If it was even possible.

Faust would hum at each of her requirements. "Bossy," he'd comment under his breath, his eyes falling heavy with a new blanket of lust that burned through the topical layer of his skin. Fire practically gorged itself on his blood, igniting such a fury that the titan coveted.

Her nose touched his. At the contact his eyes couldn't help but shut in an endearing manner. Afraid that maybe, maybe this was all but just a dream and she would disappear before his very eyes. When she'd pull away from him, they'd open, but she was still there. Still staring up at him with those fucking eyes of hers.

"Yes," he'd breathe, knowing that she must already know his answer. "Anything." He'd confirm with her, his ears twitching at the soft tendrils of her voice that quelled the fire in his blood. It was ironic, now, she supposed considering that he could be just a servant to her. In her eyes. Nothing more than something that she could manipulate with the simple touch of her nose, her paw.

"I'm no better than that servant hound."

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Tove eagerly watched his reaction, bordering on the lines of impatience with the way her breaths quickened and heart raced within her chest. His eyes closed and it made her wonder - was it to savor the moment or was it something else? She wished to read his mind, to bury herself amongst the hidden shelves and find out what he truly wanted.

What did he want?

Her lips parted and a wistful sigh escaped her, his scent flooding her entire body. She craved it, hungered for it. As comforting as it was, it was also addictive. Mouthwatering. It made her ravenous for things she couldn't even begin to describe. Tove watched him, her own viridescent gaze heavy and lidded behind lashes, soaking in every second she had to admire him. He was beautiful, stunning. A masterpiece she wished to have all to herself. It made her feel selfish, a nagging thought in the back of her mind.

“Yes?” she echoed, a whisper between them, the word pulled from her parted lips. The pitter patter of her heart made her breath hitch and she shivered at his reply, puddy before him. If she were braver, someone else, she would have begun to list off the things she wished for him to do but she could not. Instead her mind ran rampant while her tongue was held, her body quivering.

Faust was foolish. He wasn't just better, he was superior to everyone else. He would never be a mere servant hound, not to her. Never to her. “You are much more,” she promised, voice sweet and breathy, leaning in towards him to lick his snout, once, then twice, her tongue hot against his furs. Intoxicating, his scent, his close proximity. All of it. Tove moved her snout towards his neck, his chest, her eyes sliding close. Her kisses were slow and patient, opposite of the way her body seemed to scream at her, pleading with her to move closer and invade his space. She whispered into his chest, her breaths heavy. “Much, much more.”

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She was breathless when she echoed his sentiment. He nodded his head, unable to verbalize the words he wished to spew at her. There were too many for him to sort through in such short span of time. He was careful to monitor his own breathing, too, noticing the way his heart thrust against the cavity of his chest. Desperate to speak for him, but his mind overpowered such reactive thought.

Her tongue swiped over his nose in a comforting gesture. 'So much more,' she had promised him, her words honest. He knew she wasn't lying, but he still shook his head lightly. But he wasn't denying that he wasn't better; he was denying her the pleasure of attempting to coddle him, care for him with so much adoration that she always had. She was too busy caring for others, too kind, and loving for her own good. It was here in the dead of night that he found her out here alone. Alone with her thoughts. What had she been doing before he came along?

But his thoughts flew out of his head once her kisses drifted lower, and lower down the expanse of his chest. He lurched as she continued, feeling his body grow hot with the tingles of pleasure. He could've easily been swept away by it, lost in her touch, but he couldn't. Couldn't, not wouldn't. His forehead came to push against the cress of her neck, planting his own soft kisses against the fur there.

"Tove..." he whispered beneath his breath, eyes shut as he pushed his head against her nape. Shielding himself from the world around him with her scent. "You don't want this."

He would say it for her. His head lightly shook from side to side, a low growl finding its way out of his throat. He wasn't frustrated at her. No. He was angry at himself. He can't have her. Not like this, not in this field. There was so much between the both of them, tension that he could physically feel pulse around them. It had it's own heart. And Tove had his, but he couldn't let her tie herself to him. She was too good— he did not deserve it.

There were things he didn't know. Things that Tove needed to work through...was she even in the right headspace? Was she okay? Faust was busy, consumed by his duties that he always lacked a moment to check in on her. Check her wellbeing. Nurture her, just as she did for him. Wanting to say so much more, he grit his teeth, huffing out a breath of warm air against her neck. If it were up to him and his beastly ways, he would've done unspeakable things to ruin her. To damn her to the Depths with him. To poison her with the darkness that sullied his heart.

But if anything, he would be a man. A man with honor that held her gently. She was not fragile— he knows that,— but he is entirely too afraid that she just might shatter if he isn't looking.

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She wondered if he was teetering on the edge too, so close to losing control, the rope that tethered them so close to breaking. For Tove, this was everything she had wanted, everything she had needed and it wasn't something she could put into words. She had always been a good girl, so honorable, but with Faust, a fire roared within her that was so easily ignited, the embers always a low burn.

Tove's kisses were oh so gentle and she savored each taste, wishing to stay here forever. He met her easily, bringing his own face towards her neck, and the kisses he littered against her furs made her stomach tighten with a feeling that made her whine, a sound barely heard, ushered between her breathy sighs. Her entire body tingled and she leaned into him, her breaths unsteady as that rope that tethered her to safety began to snap.

Her eyes fluttered when he began to speak, her name like honey on his tongue and she was ready to give him whatever he wanted, ready to be his servant until...You don't want this… She flinched away from him, her ears flat against her skull. Her body stiffened, eyes narrowed into slits. What had he said? Had she heard him right? She leaned away from him then, when he growled, nudging him away with her shoulder rather abruptly, her viridescent gaze alight with a new fire. "I don't want this?" Tove demanded, harshly, her voice still thick with the lust that had blinded her only seconds before. She forced the words out, her teeth clenched as she stared at him. "How dare you assume what I want."

She shook, her body trembling with a sudden rage that hadn't been there before, shame threatening to trickle in. She was suddenly cold, no longer heated by the embers that had been burning in her belly. No longer fueled by the roaring flames. Was he speaking for her or for himself? Did he not want her? Was she not enough? Was there something wrong with her? Tove knew she wasn't the most pretty of women, the most skilled or experienced but it had never crossed her mind that he would push her away like this. It made her sick.

She was not enough.

Tove scrambled to her paws, away from him, away from Faust. She was still breathing heavily, her chest heaving with each exhale. Tears sprung to her eyes and she shook her head, wishing for them to go away. They did not need to make her more of a fool than she already was. “Fine.” She gritted out, tearing her gaze away from him and forcing herself to look towards home, towards the mountains. Her chest ached, longed to go back. “Have it your way.”

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Faust knew that he made a mistake once he saw Tove break away from him, her once delicate eyes now jaded with a shield that didn't let him in. His heart sank to the bottom of his stomach. He thought he may get sick. Her words cut deeper than any blade could, and he could practically feel his blood smolder against his heart. It choked him, rendered him speechless as he watched her get up. Away from him.

She cursed at him. He expected that. He had to make this choice for her so she wouldn't regret it at a later date. Because this wasn't a one time thing between them. This was what made his heart beat, what coursed his energy through his veins in the morning to get him going. To be able to see her, to be seen by her, was always a thought that drummed in the back of his mind. A rhythm that he walked life with.

And it all dissolved once she looked at him with her glistening eyes, tears pulsing at membrane. She scrambled to her feet, Faust following. She wanted to get away— he saw that, the way she looked towards the mountains. A chuff left his throat as he came closer to her once more, his words soft. "Stoirín..."

Faust let out a deep sigh. He didn't know what he wanted to say to her. What he wanted to do was hold her, caress her beneath the moonlight and the stars for the Star Mother to witness. Goddess, wouldn't that be a treat? But he knew if he did, it would only make it worse for her. For him. His heart already ached and he could feel the pain streamline down his muscles. He would drop to his knees before her given the chance, to kiss every part of her soft frame. But he couldn't.

"I don't..." he breathed, still keeping a foot of distance between them. "I don't want you to make a mistake—" the words just sounded like shit once he said them. "With me...I,"

The big, bad titan that sought claim to these deadly mountains was fumbling his words before her. "I don't want you to regret it."

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Her entire body shook, her limbs, her core, even her teeth seemed to chatter and click together as she found to gain her grounding. Fought to gain her composure. Tove had never felt this before, never like this. He had rejected her. He didn't want her. It hurt, more than any wound she'd ever experienced and it took her breath away and shattered her heart. She wanted him so much it physically pained her, so much that it made her stupid.

Tove wished to give herself to him completely, her body, her mind. Everything.

But he didn't want that.

She couldn't help the low grumble that escaped her as she heard Faust get to his feet, following her as she tried to make her escape. What was he doing? He had already made up his mind. 'Stoirín', the word was gentle, a warm and soothing caress against her ears, a word that would have normally made her entire body warm but instead, it left her cold. It left her mad. Her teeth bared, the ivory glistening under the moonlight and she made it a point to move further away from him, her steps frantic.

"Do not call me that." It was a whisper, the words bitter. She was not his darling, she was not anyone's. A frown had found its way on her speckled face as her eyes glistened and she refused to look at him then, continuing to keep her steely gaze on the mountains, the stars, the moon. She cursed herself silently, angry for the tears that threatened to betray her in front of him. "A mistake?" Her voice cracked and she barked out a laugh, devoid of any humor.

Is that what he thought this would be? A mistake?

“You may be my Sévir, Faust.” Tove snapped, shaking her head. His title was gritted out, harsh like it burned her tongue and her nostrils flared. “But you do not get to tell me how I feel.” She didn't wait for his reply and completely turned from him, taking the first steps towards home. She left without him by her side and once she was far enough, the anguished woman would finally let all her tears fall, her only comfort the stars that glistened above.

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Faust had nothing to say in response to her. It was a bullshit excuse, telling her how she felt, but she wasn't taking care of herself. He could see it from leagues away. It was no secret. She couldn't approach a body of water without clinging to him. She can't sleep. She barely eats. Faust notices it, sees it, and how her touch lingered on his skin. He felt like he was burning from the inside out.

But she needed to work through her shit before she threw herself beneath him. Faust couldn't care for her as intently as she needed now. She needs to grow strong again, truly think for herself without any of them holding her so tightly. Even if he wanted to.

He stood still, unwavering in the field as she walked off. Her teeth bared at him, a snarl rippling through her— the memory replayed through his mind. Faust stared at his paws, scrunching his toes against the dirt, ruining the bed of flowers he stood on. His teeth grit so hard against his mouth that blood dripped onto his toes. His chest heaved once. Twice.

"Fuck." He would curse.

Faust would walk off, too, but not towards her. Not to chase her. He went the opposite direction, his mind swimming with the memory of her tongue against his throat.

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