So many lives lay on her shoulders, creating a burden she did not wish to share. The chains of slavery had been shattered and melted to form their armor and their weapons. There was no going back from here. Before her master's death, she could have gone back to being his slave. Maserai would never have to exist and she would be able to put the plight of her people behind her. Aureha would still exist, as a loyal servant who lived in quieted fear and unsure hatred, mixed with lingering love.
Instead, she had been a fool. It caused her the loss of her name, her wings, her initial purpose in life. What had it given her in return? A destroyed city they tried to rebuild, ex-slaves forced to become soldiers. She had gained nothing, and lost everything.
"My Lady," Maserai tilted her head up, feeling a familiar hand on the back of her head. Nothing was too cruel. She had gained a friend. Blind he may have been, he was the one she felt closest to. He knelt beside her, his hand struggling to find her shoulder after getting tangled in her hair. It had already started growing back from where her now deceased master had cut it. "Are you well?"
"I am fine, you've nothing to worry about." She cooed, reaching over and grabbing his hand. It was hard not to smile in his company. The heat radiating from his body pulsed softly, reminding her of a peaceful flame as it neared the final minutes of existence. It mixed with her own, slipping past her defenses and filling her heart.
"Sometimes I wonder if that is a lie, My Lady." He mused. The playful smirk on his face took the edge from his words. He had become more playful since the battle. "You have been busy much of the day. Are you not tired?"
Maserai studied his face. It was softer, a little feminine compared to the other men she had seen. His usually tense, narrow jaw was lax, bringing his mouth open just a little bit. The smirk had faded into a neutral line of concern as it always did. He was harder to read than the others, thanks to the blindfold obstructing the view of his eyes. She hated that; her curiosity too great for her own good.
"How have you been keeping occupied, Ikedo?" She asked, dodging his question. Exhaustion attributed some to her depressing thoughts before. His jaw tensed, lips closing and curling into a frown. He did not appreciate the question.
"You don't have to answer." Maserai mused, moving his hand from her shoulder. The hot air between them became tense, his expression falling into a hurt one. She hated that it was the only one she could read from his face. Why could he not just express his feelings to her? They had been together at the start of this rebellion, and she would not walk through it without him.
She moved to rise, but stopped when she felt his hand wrap around her forearm. Ikedo tugged, pulling her down onto him. His hands moved to her shoulders, gripping them as he pulled her into a kiss. Shock and confusion washed over her, leaving her stunned in his grasp for only a few moments before she leaned into the kiss. Heat filled the tent, emanating off their bodies like a bright aura. Any hotter, and the tent itself would burn down, she was sure of it.
It felt good, though. To kiss him, to undress him in the darkness of her tent, undisturbed by any other. The sensations were unlike any other as they explored each other's bodies with their lips, their hands, everything except for eyes. The burden on her shoulders disappeared in his arms, the guilt of her crimes giving way to ecstasy. Something about it felt too right, too good to be true.
Even in the morning, however, as the night left them naked in each other's arms, it still feel too good. Love had been something she did not want to allow herself, yet in him, she was finding it with all the vigor of a young girl. It was unreal, yet all too real.
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