ǫᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴇʟsᴀ (icicles) wrote in noexits, @ 2022-03-31 13:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, star trek: orlin dax, ₴ inactive: elsa, → week 033 (freaky friday) |
freaky friday - day 5
Hugh was a genius. Orlin never could have created such a spectacle on his own. Granted, it wasn’t too overbearing. Orlin wanted it to be lovely and special, but he didn’t want it to be over-the-top. Because Orlin wasn’t over-the-top. And, above all else, he didn’t want to be deceptive. He wanted a scene that reflected him and his abilities. Nothing too showy. Nothing too extravagant. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew Elsa was a queen. But he also knew that she was a woman who wouldn’t have chosen to be queen if another opportunity had presented itself. And he wasn’t trying to impress Queen Elsa. He was only trying to impress Elsa, the woman who had taken a keen interest in learning his trade. The woman who had shown him immense kindness since arriving. The woman who didn’t begrudge his counterpart’s deceit. That’s the woman Orlin was interested in. That’s the woman he liked. The table and chairs were set up out front of the greenhouse. Orlin was unaware that this was very close to the intimate evening Elsa had shared with his counterpart, but perhaps that was evidence of their similarity. Orlin and other Orlin had been very different in their histories and lives. But despite those differences, and the tragically harsh conditions his counterpart had to endure in his Derleth, they had many things in common. A genuine goodness at the core of their natures being one of those things. There was a white table cloth covering the table and a tall single candle as a centerpiece. The dishes were already set. Wine poured. In the trees up above were strings of twinkling fairy lights that Orlin had found in the theatre. Something leftover from an old Derleth performance perhaps. Hugh had also arranged lanterns around the area. They added a bit of rustic charm to the setting, particularly with their Irkalla designs. It was all very romantic. Which, of course, was the point. This was a date, after all. And it had been such a long time since Orlin had been on a real date. He wanted it to be as perfect as possible. But not completely perfect. Because that’s not who he was. And he didn’t want to give a false impression. For his own part he wore his Starfleet uniform, freshly washed and ironed. Communication badge and ranking pips shined for extra measure. Hugh had suggested something a little less formal, but this uniform was as much a part of who Orlin was as anything. And he felt the evening required a bit of formality on his part. What Elsa chose to wear, on the other hand, didn’t matter. She would always be lovely. He cleared his throat with a small cough and pulled out a chair for her. It was just a lawn chair. He couldn’t dress that up. But hopefully she wouldn’t be too disappointed. “I hope you’re hungry. Hugh made enough for ten people. But we can always wrap up the leftovers to share with everyone else tomorrow.” At the very least Orlin knew there’d be cake to spare. Yes, Hugh had even baked a cake. Orlin didn’t deserve such a friend! This was all gorgeous, honestly, and Elsa was floored by it - no one had ever really gone to such efforts for her before but she wasn’t surprised that Orlin was thoughtful enough to craft an experience that he wanted her to like; he was thoughtful in that way, and she appreciated that about him. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she praised as she took a seat, smoothing her skirt - it was cream-colored, and she wore a powder blue short puffy-sleeved sweater with it because she couldn’t seem to get away from her signature shade, and it went nicely with the snowflake pendant around her neck (which reset with her each week, as she thought it would). Her hair was done in a loose braid which hung over one shoulder and she did her nails too - the color of the polish matched her top and she wished she had more jewelry to wear but the lone existence of her pendant would have to do, and add that little bit of sparkle (along with her shoes, which were silver sequined ballet flats - they were a rather bold and dramatic theater trunk find, she thought). The fairy lights were a nice touch - they twinkled like they were fallen stars caught in the leaves of the trees, and she really liked the lanterns too. That warm and buttery light had a way of softening their surroundings - she almost forgot she was on campus entirely. “And I am very hungry,” she assured, unfolding her napkin to place upon her lap. “What are we having? You look nice, by the way. Very handsome.” She wasn’t particularly fussed about dinner fare - there was never a time to be picky in Derleth, what with the way the cafeteria reset and refilled with bland food every week, and sometimes they didn’t have much food at all. Mostly she was just looking forward to the conversation and the enjoyment of the fact that this was a date - maybe not a perfect date, but she wouldn’t even know what perfect would be. To her, it was pretty close. Once she was seated, Orlin moved around the table to sit across from her. There was a smaller side table where the food was waiting in covered platters. There were no electrical outlets near the old greenhouse that Orlin could find, but he’d adjusted one of his medical devices from the clinic to radiate a safe heat beneath the plates in order to keep the food warm. Hugh had given Orlin a few options when it came to meal choices, but Orlin went with the simpler choice. Roasted chicken breast with vegetables and a side salad of leafy greens and tomato slices. There was also a freshly baked baguette with butter spread. As far as Derleth dinners went it was an impressive feast. And Orlin had Hugh to thank for all of it. It went without saying that he owed him big time. “You always look beautiful,” Orlin said, a sheepish blush to his cheeks. “Roasted chicken with vegetables. Possibly small potatoes, too. I’ll admit I was so nervous getting things ready that I didn’t check.” Orlin cut up the baguette into thin slices and then placed the salad on the main table. “I’m not much of a chef, to be honest. I’m used to replicator food and admittedly haven’t eaten much natural food before arriving in Derleth. Thankfully Hugh was kind enough to help me. He aided me with the decorations, as well. The lanterns were his idea.” But the fairy lights were Orlin’s discovery. Orlin picked up his wine glass and held it towards her. “To a better date than the last one. Hopefully this one won’t be interrupted by bandits and bounty hunters.” But all things considered, he wouldn’t be surprised. Elsa didn’t know Hugh very well, but she had seen him about - and saw how into Shakespeare he was, and what a patron of the theater arts he seemed to be. It was nice - she’d have to remember to thank him as well, and offer something lovely for him in return. Maybe some snowflakes for scenery or a little cozy snowfall if he wanted to impress someone of his own - she did have a knack for picturesque winter scenes, not just the raging storms that were all blizzards of screaming white and gray and that looked like beasts with claws in the ground. It was always pleasant to use her magic for something good, anyway. “That sounds delicious - “ Her stomach even growled, as if accentuating the point. But first, she’d toast before digging in - so she lifted her wine glass and gently clinked it against Orlin’s. “To a date lacking bandits and bounty hunters,” she giggled, before taking a sip. “I suppose the last one was exciting, if nothing else - though I was a little disappointed it was interrupted.” Especially because Orlin wasn’t exactly a bandit, even if he’d attracted the attention of a bounty hunter after his mark. She spread some butter on one of the baguette slices (Elsa loved carbs, give her all the carbs). “This week hasn’t been too awful though, all things considered - “ Steve hadn’t frozen the campus, struggling to control Elsa’s magic, so that was something. Small favors. “Although I will be glad for a time when we’re actually ourselves.” “I was considerably upset that our last date was interrupted. I was really enjoying the conversation.” And Orlin liked the atmosphere as well. It was nice to travel to a place with new people and cultures. A place where they could garner new wares and experience new adventures. It reminded him a bit of what it was like to be in Starfleet, traveling to distant worlds and learning about new civilizations. He’d have to be more mindful in the future, however, not to get into more tricky situations like he had with the bandits and bounty hunters. Perhaps they’d luck out and be able to travel to another interesting world next week. One where he and Elsa could find another place to get to know one another better. But for now Orlin supposed his little dinner table with a backdrop of overgrown foliage and glimmering lanterns would have to do. “I’m glad not to have been affected by the changes this week. I wouldn’t want to think of how challenging it would be for someone to be in my body. Or how disorienting it might be for Dax. Dax imprints on a person after seventy-two hours. If someone had switched bodies with me it’s entirely possible they would receive all of Dax’s memories and experiences. And mine in the process.” He took a sip of wine. “That is not an easy process for the unprepared mind. Many Trill have gone mad from even earlier separations.” He picked up a knife and spread a thin layer of butter over a piece of bread. “I’ll be glad when everyone is back to normal. People deserve to be themselves. It’s not fair to subject them to these unexpected experiments. There’s no telling what the long term effects might be.” But perhaps that was too heavy a conversation topic for a date night. At least not until they’d finished their appetizers. “I haven’t forgotten my promise to you though. I’m still working on a means of contacting the other Derleth again. I picked up some potions and talismans last week. I don’t know if the magic will still work as I no longer have the power to wield it myself. But perhaps they can be used to construct some means of inter dimensional communication.” “That does sound like a troublesome situation - for you and for Dax,” Elsa winced. “And for someone who has to try to organize a lifetime's worth of other memories in a very short amount of time.” Of course it would be overwhelming for anyone’s mind - at the very least, she was glad Derleth had spared Orlin from that particular headache. Sometimes it granted them breaks - not very often though, because Elsa hadn’t felt like ‘herself’ in a very long time (and especially now when she had a figurative hole in her soul without her magic). She started on her salad, going for a tomato slice, wanting to fill up on vegetables a little before the chicken - which looked and smelled amazing. Apparently Hugh had a secret chef’s talent up his sleeves. “But oh - what kind of potions and talismans?” she asked curiously. “I maintained some of the spells I learned, I think - or, well, I haven’t really had a chance to try them out but I remember them. I could cast them if I actually had a connection with my usual magic.” If the connection wasn’t severed, which it was now - Basically she just had to hold on until next week. That was all. “We can work on it together. Especially since interdimensional communication seems tricky. And potentially dangerous.” “Most of the potions I collected were for medical purposes. Healing tonics and wound repairing solutions. But I did find one merchant who claimed certain potions could be used to communicate with people over long distances when combined with the appropriate crystals and amulets. It very well may have been complete nonsense, but I thought it was worth the try. Even if it doesn’t work out for between-dimensions, it may be useful for something else. I’m going to test the items with my tricorder and see if it yields any interesting readings.” Orlin had to be optimistic. He was motivated by optimism. Always had been. Which was not to say he hadn’t been through his fair share of tragedy. He had been. And with Dax’s memories he knew even more. But if he let those things get him down then he’d never get back up. And that’s not the kind of man Orlin wanted to be. He’d rather be naive and positive than depressed and heartbroken. “I’d be glad to show them to you. Perhaps you could tell me more about them. Or let me know if they truly do have any magical qualities.” He placed some salad on his plate as well and took a few bites. There was a very light oil and cucumber dressing on top that gave it a fresh taste. It was delicious. “I’d love to work on it with you. And don’t worry. You’ll be back to your old self next week. I know it.” Orlin smiled. No hesitation. No doubt. “But let’s not dwell on that now. Tell me something about yourself! Something I don’t know. Something you love or something about your life back home.” “If there’s any magic about them, I would be able to sense it,” Elsa said - she was fairly confident in that assessment, anyway. She also appreciated the optimism - usually that was Anna’s job, the effervescent princess whereas Elsa was a little more world-savvy and cynical, but as of late she’d tried to take a page from her sister’s book - especially after meeting her counterpart and seeing how dead inside she was. So cold and unfeeling but - there was still a spark. Somewhere. It simply needed kindling. Something about herself? Hmmm. She chewed (daintily, of course, with her mouth closed - she wasn’t a cow) as she considered. “I was introduced to a lot of intellectually stimulating activities when I was growing up,” she said, and just the description ‘intellectually stimulating’ made her laugh a little because it sounded so ridiculous - but that’s what her royal advisors and tutors had referred to it as. “I hated most of it because I’d rather be drawing or painting but I was actually pretty good at chess and do enjoy that one. Rowing was the worst. I just didn’t care for being on the water.” But it was also decent exercise, she guessed - more so than simple embroidery (which she also knew how to do). “Now you,” she grinned, gesturing for Orlin to go. “Tell me something. Anything.” “Jadzia was very good at Vulcan chess!” Orlin exclaimed with a level of enthusiasm that was beyond his norm. Because that was a bit of Jadzia talking. She was always extra enthusiastic about her passions. Orlin lowered his head to shake off some of that excitement. Goodness. Had his voice raised too? He needed to get better control of his previous hosts. It was tricky with the reset, however. He always felt like he was starting over. “I’m sorry. She gets randomly excited at times. Vulcan chess is similar to Terran chess except that it’s played on multiple levels in a three dimensional space. There are usually at least three overlapping boards at once. It requires a great deal of concentration and memory. That’s why Vulcans are so good at it.” Orlin finished off his salad and took another sip of wine. “I’d love to see some of your artwork though. I’ve always wanted to try to be more artistic and creative. Guess I never really knew where to start. None of Dax’s hosts have been very artistic or musical. I’d like to see if I can break that pattern.” Orlin gave an awkward laugh. “Maybe if we ever find ourselves in a place long enough to be established I can take out some time to try painting.” But something about him? Orlin had to think. Most of his story was obvious or out in the open. Joined Trill. Doctor. Starfleet officer. Of course, he was part Betazoid but that wasn’t something he talked about often. Not that Elsa would mind. She wouldn’t understand the conflict. No one here would. Still, it wasn’t easy to talk about. Maybe something else. Perhaps he should tell her about— No, not that. He wasn’t quite ready to tell her that. Although, he wanted to. And he might need to eventually. He took another sip of wine. “I haven’t gone through the process of zhian’tara. Not yet anyway. It’s a telepathic ceremony that allows the new host of a symbiont to divest the personalities and memories of the previous hosts. It’s a very special moment when the new host gets to ‘meet’ the previous hosts and eventually allows their final personality to emerge. It requires a symbiont Guardian to oversee and ends in the Rite of Emergence. It’s an important event in the early life of a joined Trill. I was supposed to have it, but then I arrived here. That’s why I’m a little back-and-forth at times. And a bit uncertain.” “I’d love to paint with you,” Elsa’s enthusiasm was just as intense as Orlin’s had been about chess - and it was cute, that one of the prior hosts took to the game too and felt passionately about it (though three boards sounded complicated - Elsa liked challenging herself, however, so maybe she could give it a try sometime). Now - to try this chicken. She cut into it and gave it a taste and it was just as good as it looked, and smelled - she felt as if she hadn’t really sat down and had a real meal in ages so this was long overdue. And even better? Nothing was interrupting. Everything was so relaxed and it was like they were at some outdoor restaurant someplace, anyplace besides Derleth. “Oh, that ceremony sounds very important,” she said, once she’d swallowed. “Meeting the other hosts is what sort of pushes the new personality forward - is that the only way? To meet them, I mean?” She was certain there were other telepaths here but - it sounded complicated. And probably best for someone experienced with the particular ceremony. “It’s difficult to explain. Usually what happens is a Guardian asks the new host to present close friends or family to take on the roles of the other hosts. Then the Guardian initiates the telepathic ceremony. The previous hosts then take over the minds of the new host’s companions for a day to allow for a more physical method of communication. Then the new host can learn about each host individually instead of all at once. It’s kind of a mish-mosh in my head right now, if you will. I can hear their different voices and I can pinpoint their different experiences. But sometimes they meld together and it gets quite confusing. During the ceremony I can choose the qualities of each previous host’s personality that I like and that I think would compliment me in my new journey. That’s how I would form my new personality.” Orlin reached his fork into one of the platters and took a piece of chicken and then scooped some vegetables on the side of the plate as well. “It’s a little more complicated than that, but so much of it is internal and instinctual that it’s difficult to explain. I would still be me, of course. But I might gain the humor of a previous host or their confidence or their hot temper. It’s not always a direct decision which parts are incorporated. That’s why new hosts are often encouraged to begin their joined lives in new places. Because it can be quite jarring for their old friends.” But without a Guardian, and with the Derleth resets, Orlin would probably be stuck in this strange personality limbo. He wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t all bad. Not really. And he didn’t dislike who he was. He enjoyed a challenge. But it would be nice to have a calmer mind. It was getting quite busy in his head. “Perhaps we should try painting next week? Would you enjoy that? Maybe we can find some art supplies in one of the buildings. If there’s a theatre surely there must be an art department! We could try landscapes or still lifes or…” Yeah, no. Maybe he wouldn’t suggest that. That might be a little too provocative for a second date. (It was definitely Curzon’s idea.) “...portraits.” He ate a bite of chicken to hide a slight twinge of nervousness at his own thoughts. Hopefully she didn’t notice. Was Orlin about to suggest nude portraits or something? Him being flustered was adorable and it made Elsa grin a bit. She hadn’t known much about the personality mesh that was so very much a part of his identity, and helped him carve one out for himself, but it was endlessly fascinating to learn about. “Well, I do like your personality as is - if that helps,” she said, nudging him gently under the table. But she could understand wanting to undergo something so important too - something so pivotal to figuring out who he was; it was a different type of journey for everyone, as they figured out that sort of thing in their lives. “And next week sounds perfect for painting. We can just sit side by side and put all the colors on the canvas. I picked up some in our last world - paints and charcoals, what I could find at the markets and things like that,” she added happily, cutting into her piece of chicken. “But if there’s an art department here, even better - I’ve been to the library so many times, but never looked into art. I didn’t want to do it alone, perhaps.” But now she wouldn’t be alone - and if there was a thriving (sort of) theater, why not other forms of art and expression? That might have been his suggestion. Of course, he wasn’t quite so bold as to express that kind of interest out loud. Not yet anyway. Give him time. He was probably something of a rarity in Derleth for his modest propriety. But maybe that was part of his charm. Or his authenticity of feeling, at the very least. He gave a small laugh when she complimented his personality. The sharp corners of his cheeks blushing a deep shade of red that seemed to heighten the hue of his spots. Blame it on the candlelight! Although he did stretch his leg out a little further under the table so that their feet would remain touching. He pretended, of course, that he didn’t notice this little action. But cut-short performances last week aside, acting wasn’t his forte. Not even close. And it was painfully obvious he was just looking for an excuse to be closer to her. “I’m embarrassed to admit that even though I’ve been here for a few weeks now, I haven’t fully explored all of the rooms in the various campus buildings. It seems like every moment there’s a second of downtime we find ourselves in the middle of an attack.” Wampas, bandits, bounty hunters, other versions of themselves. Orlin was grateful that there was at least some semblance of a clinic at Derleth, but it was sorely out of date for all of these unexpected incidents. He really hoped the next place they went to offered more opportunities for updating the medical supplies and equipment. “I am glad to finally have a quiet moment. With you, in particular.” Was that too cheesy? Did he sound ridiculous? Maybe he should have asked Hugh for advice on what to talk about as well. Pity he didn’t think about that until now! “No need to be embarrassed to admit that - it is rather difficult to explore when we’re constantly having to defend what we’ve managed to scrape together and ourselves,” Elsa said with dry amusement. She was honestly surprised that nothing terrible had happened yet this week, though the bar was awfully low. Did ‘nothing terrible happened’ mean they’d get a week where they just - weren’t themselves? Weren’t themselves, but weren’t potentially eaten by whatever monster of the week? That seemed depressing for some reason. She wouldn’t consider it much - or go down that particular rabbit hole. She reached across the table and placed her hand over Orlin’s - her touch was warm, perhaps warmer than one might think given her proclivity for cold magic. Yet she didn’t have any of that now - she was just a regular human, one enjoying a lovely dinner and the atmosphere and even better company. “I’m glad to have a quiet moment with you too. Thank you, for this, by the way - “ Leaning closer, she was a bit awkward as she attempted to find the right angle and even gauge whether or not Orlin was going to turn away or flip a fork out of surprise or something - but she did it, she kissed him. A sweet one, yet still one that got her seeing exploding meteors which resembled fireworks in a vast expanse of sky - just a little taste of what he probably saw on a regular basis, up there in space. “It seems an odd experiment, don’t you think? If that’s indeed what this is. I have my doubts, but I know quite a few people here seem to believe that. The patterns do make it seem that way, but I wonder if it wasn’t merely an accident that got caught up in a loop of some kind. And somehow we were pulled into it. Perhaps not as purposefully as we believe.” Not that Orlin had had much time to consider the Derleth problem on its own. He’d been far too busy cleaning up scrapes and bruises and mending broken bones. He was glad that his tricorder and other medical supplies appeared to reset like him each week. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if his equipment began to get rundown with so much use. Old fashioned triage medicine, he supposed. But the mere thought of it gave him chills. He was about to reach for another piece of bread when she placed her hand upon his. He stilled instantly in surprise, but he didn’t recoil. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch, and it sent an anticipatory shiver through his skin. It was a good thing he was wearing long sleeves. Otherwise she’d be able to see the goosebumps on his arm. His lips parted to reply, but before he could utter a syllable she was leaning across the table. Orlin probably should have made it easier for him, but his brain froze for a moment. Of course, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to initiate it himself! He just wasn’t ready. And then— It was nothing short of a miracle that he didn’t flip his fork. Or accidentally knock over the salad bowl. He didn’t know what he expected in a kiss with her. Truthfully he didn’t expect anything. But it was a moment he would remember forever. In fact, it was a moment all of the future Dax hosts would remember forever. The awkward stretch across the table, the touch of her lips, the frantic beating of his heart and his desire to remove the obstacle between them, the way she made him feel like there was truly no one else for miles around. And when it was over he felt both fulfilled and empty. He was also holding her hand when their lips parted. He’d forgotten everything he’d intended to ask her that evening. And the only thing he could think to say was his response to her earlier comment. “... You’re welcome.” He tasted like the wine they’d consumed, and Elsa was feeling a little flushed - not in a bad way but it was all so heady and she didn’t quite want it to end either. It wasn’t even odd or different at all, kissing this Orlin - she honestly didn’t really see many contrasts between him and his counterpart in the other Derleth; at their core, they had the same heart even if the Orlin she’d shared their last night together with was more jaded. Hopefully she’d been able to inspire some hope in him, for the other side. “Well - “ she murmured, and it came out a little huskier than she anticipated - there was a fond twinkle in her eye, however, as her fingers stroked over his. “I think there’s cake? Did you mention that?” Dessert was her favorite part of the meal, after all. There was probably an Orlin somewhere in the vast multitude of universes who would have been jealous or intimidated by the passions of his counterpart, but this Orlin wasn’t one of them. Would he have been surprised? Yes. But not angry. Not envious. Perhaps a little sad. Because he would wonder if Elsa wished that the other Orlin had managed to remain, just as they’d planned. Just as they’d hoped. All of them. But that wouldn’t change how much Orlin enjoyed being with Elsa himself. Or his feelings—which may not have been as bold or brazen as his counterpart’s, but we’re just as strong. Truth was, Orlin really liked Elsa. Not just because she was beautiful and kind and intelligent—although she was all those things—but because she showed an interest in his work. An interest in caring for others. And in Orlin’s opinion, that was a quality in a person that far outshined physical beauty. She moved her fingers over his hand and it felt smooth. Like sliding on freshly cleaned ice. Like a newly blossomed flower petal. He was mesmerized by her touch. And he wondered if it would be too much to ask if he could— Orlin blinked. “Oh! Yes! Cake! Of course. I … I almost forgot.” He cleared his throat with a cough. He didn’t want to let go of her hand but he had to in order to lift the cover off the cake tray and cut her a slice. Chocolate on chocolate. “I know you’re probably sick of chocolate after eating it for a full week, but I thought since it was your favorite maybe one slice would be okay?” He stretched across the table and set the plate in front of her. Then he paused, catching a glimpse of her lips again. They shimmered under the twinkling fairy lights. He turned his gaze to her. “If you don’t mind I’d like to—” That’s when he realized his sleeve had caught on fire from the candle centerpiece. He yelped and pulled back to his side of the table, using a napkin to dab out the small flame which had singed his uniform. She was about to tell him that chocolate cake was perfectly fine - Elsa had enough of a break to where it wasn’t a big deal, it was clearly back to being her favorite - but then Orlin just about set himself on fire and she let out a squeak of surprise, automatically moving to shoot a stream of ice at the offense. However she didn’t have her magic so it was basically just her and her hand movements, with nothing happening. Drat. But he seemed to have it covered and she exhaled a sigh of relief - if it had escalated, she may have just had to rely on stop, drop, and roll or something. “I love chocolate cake,” she assured, hand pressed to her heart to quell its sudden stampeding. “Some fire squid demon won’t stop me from that - “ But, oh, right. That sounded odd, didn’t it? Moving along from Michael and that whole annoying week... “You can, by the way. Whatever it is you wanted to do.” “Fire squid demon?” Orlin looked up again, expression caught in an odd flux of panic and relief. It was fortunate that his Starfleet uniform would reset with him. That the damage wouldn’t last. Then again, he was beginning to grow accustomed to ruining his professional attire. Multiple weeks in a row it had been stained in blood thanks to all of the attacks and his seemingly nonstop efforts to prevent everyone in Derleth from bleeding out. A little burn mark was nothing in comparison to that. Maybe he could get one of the magic people to fix it for him. Especially if he and Elsa decided to plan another dinner date or outing before the end of the week. Or maybe two dates in one week was too much to ask for. It was probably better to time these things out with some space in between. Right? Something about absence making the heart grow fonder, for example. Not that it was really possible to avoid anyone in Derleth. Even if you wanted to. Orlin set the napkin back on the table and stood up. Then he made his way around to the other side and held out his hand to Elsa. “I would, with your permission of course, like the opportunity to kiss you again. More appropriately this time. That is, to say, without a dangerous flame in between us.” Oh goodness. He just realized that she might have caught her hair on fire when she’d kissed him. Then he definitely would have flipped his fork. Fire while kissing (well, literal fire - not the passionate, figurative kind) wasn’t really romantic at all so Elsa was glad they were playing it safe. And that Orlin had come around to the other side of the table so she didn’t have to do that awkward leaning thing again, which was probably less awkward than being set aflame and - you know what? Maybe she should just stop overthinking this. “Of course - yes, definitely,” was her enthusiastic response as she took his hand. Then, without the danger of being burned, she leaned in and kissed him just as enthusiastically too. It was fiery and she saw red - bright as a zinnia plant, more like, something beautiful. They could both still fumble a little and experience beauty regardless - that was probably inevitable. It was rare that Orlin experienced a bold streak. A moment when he didn’t consider how poorly things could go or how he might embarrass himself. When he met his counterpart he had the opportunity to witness a version of himself who was bold by necessity. Who feared less because he’d seen more. Orlin didn’t want to be like that. Not exactly. But he did desire that confidence. That willingness to take the plunge, to leap without looking. Perhaps that’s why he felt so daring this evening. A kiss probably didn’t seem like much of a leap. Not to most people. But for Orlin it was a step down a different garden path. It was a start to being a new version of himself. A version that was more willing to try out some of the other hosts’ traits. And hopefully find the few he wanted to keep. Once she took his hand, he pulled her gently towards him, craning his neck down to kiss her. There was a moment of hesitance. A split second tremble where his breath caught in his throat and he feared he might choke. But then their lips were together and everything else fell by the wayside. His free hand cradled the back of her neck, fingers curling through her hair. The last time he’d felt such an enchanting spark? When he was joined with Dax. And before that? The first time he saw a nebula; a brilliant swirling gaseous cloud of blues, greens, and purples against a twinkling backdrop of stars on a black canvas. But even that somehow paled in comparison to this moment. He didn’t breathe until he broke the kiss. And by then he’d forgotten all about the cake … again. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a nice time with someone.” Orlin brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I hope we can do this again soon.” He gave an awkward laugh. “But maybe I’ll wear something fireproof next time.” |