They'll blame you, and they won't ever stop looking. You will never be able to come back. Cole.
[ regardless of her youth, misha has been groomed for leadership for as long as she can remember, and she doesn't remember the last time she felt like a child. she does now though, a little, staring up at cole with a grim set expression on her face.
she has to make him understand, impress upon him how much she's asking of him--but he knows so much more about the world than she does. really, misha can't be saying anything that cole doesn't already know. she feels clumsy, immature, naive, but there isn't time enough to put more thought into this and choose her words more carefully. there's no constructed poise, just a frenetic urgency. ]
If you're not a hundred per cent sure about this...
[ she finally breaks the intense eye contact so that she can duck and grab his tossed clothes, pulling his shirt over her head and yanking comically large pants on. she doesn't care, it isn't important. there's only one thing that she can focus on right now, they're on the precipice of a decision that is going to change their lives forever.
even if he says no. even if he chooses to stay, misha still asked him, and they'll always know that. ]
[he could count the times on his fingers on one hand that she's looked at him like she is now. she's pleading with him as a child would - no, in her eyes, she's begging. his stoicism breaks, mouth slack. he wants to say her name, feels the urge catch in his throat.
a flash of what can only be interpreted as concern on his face as he watches her pull on his clothes. they hang off her small frame, swallow every ounce of her shapely body. in another world, in another time, he would have liked to see her in his clothes more. he can see it - a dozy morning with linens draped over her as they would drape over venus.
he wants to leave with her, for her. he's supposed to want what she wants, but now is abrupt and he can't linger on what should be inappropriate thoughts for him.]
I am. [he'll keep her.] I'll keep us safe.
[he's memorized the schedule of the guards and he's sure that she probably has, too, else she wouldn't be doing this right now.]
there isn't enough time to allow the gravity of the situation that they're about to plunge into sink in, but misha allows herself a small handful of seconds as she's hiking the pants up and as tight as they will go to exhale shakily. they're doing this, for better or worse it's decided now, and once they step out of the house there will be no going back.
misha would have done her duty. she would have walked into the slaughterhouse and she very likely would have won, and if not she would have died trying. misha would have done it all and she wouldn't have so much as considered the thought of running away, if it wasn't for--whatever nebulous, fragile thing that has bloomed between them. they haven't even put words to it. this is insane.
but she isn't worried about that. it's maybe the only thing tonight that she's been unwaveringly sure of. this is the worst thing that she will ever do in her life. it's the only right decision she's ever made in her life. ]
I don't think we have time to get anything.
[ not that she cares much for her belongings, they're representative of a very different future that she's turning her back on, but money would be helpful in finding safe passage, keeping witnesses quiet.
cole is resourceful though, and misha has been trained in more than just being a queen. she was supposed to be a killer out there, too. they'll figure it out. ]
Come on, we don't have a lot of time.
[ misha takes cole's hand, winds her fingers through his and squeezes, and it's not the first time she's grasped for a stolen and forbidden touch, but now, with what they're about to do, it feels brand new. ]
[quick to move around his room to pick up whatever he can shove into his pockets as she dresses. multiple knives -- some sheathed into his boots, others around his waist. his main weapons are his fists. he grabs money, enough to last for a few months if they're careful with it. he hesitates with his back to her by a nearby drawer, takes a quiet breath, caves and ends up tucking an suspicious little cloth bag into a spare pocket.
then she's at his side and he has to pretend like he isn't bringing what he's bringing. her touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. comfort is a stranger to him, and she's asking for it, but she's also reciprocating. he squeezes her hand back, his grip strong and assuring. with one last look at her he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.]
Whatever happens, don't make a sound. If I tell you not to look, don't look.
[orders for her coming from his own mouth are foreign, but there won't be hierarchy with what they're about to do. he's a servant, but now his role has rapidly evolved into something new. no one else will be able to watch him as she watches him.
he leads her into the halls, through the winding corridors. eyes and ears peeled for any remnant of sound; even a sneeze will give him pause. they have to make it to the carriage house. worst case scenario, they walk until reaching town, but that is the worst case. thieves lurk in the shadows of the woods and he'd like to avoid unnecessary combat.]
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no subject
[ regardless of her youth, misha has been groomed for leadership for as long as she can remember, and she doesn't remember the last time she felt like a child. she does now though, a little, staring up at cole with a grim set expression on her face.
she has to make him understand, impress upon him how much she's asking of him--but he knows so much more about the world than she does. really, misha can't be saying anything that cole doesn't already know. she feels clumsy, immature, naive, but there isn't time enough to put more thought into this and choose her words more carefully. there's no constructed poise, just a frenetic urgency. ]
If you're not a hundred per cent sure about this...
[ she finally breaks the intense eye contact so that she can duck and grab his tossed clothes, pulling his shirt over her head and yanking comically large pants on. she doesn't care, it isn't important. there's only one thing that she can focus on right now, they're on the precipice of a decision that is going to change their lives forever.
even if he says no. even if he chooses to stay, misha still asked him, and they'll always know that. ]
You have to be sure.
no subject
a flash of what can only be interpreted as concern on his face as he watches her pull on his clothes. they hang off her small frame, swallow every ounce of her shapely body. in another world, in another time, he would have liked to see her in his clothes more. he can see it - a dozy morning with linens draped over her as they would drape over venus.
he wants to leave with her, for her. he's supposed to want what she wants, but now is abrupt and he can't linger on what should be inappropriate thoughts for him.]
I am. [he'll keep her.] I'll keep us safe.
[he's memorized the schedule of the guards and he's sure that she probably has, too, else she wouldn't be doing this right now.]
Let's go.
no subject
[ so they're doing this.
there isn't enough time to allow the gravity of the situation that they're about to plunge into sink in, but misha allows herself a small handful of seconds as she's hiking the pants up and as tight as they will go to exhale shakily. they're doing this, for better or worse it's decided now, and once they step out of the house there will be no going back.
misha would have done her duty. she would have walked into the slaughterhouse and she very likely would have won, and if not she would have died trying. misha would have done it all and she wouldn't have so much as considered the thought of running away, if it wasn't for--whatever nebulous, fragile thing that has bloomed between them. they haven't even put words to it. this is insane.
but she isn't worried about that. it's maybe the only thing tonight that she's been unwaveringly sure of. this is the worst thing that she will ever do in her life. it's the only right decision she's ever made in her life. ]
I don't think we have time to get anything.
[ not that she cares much for her belongings, they're representative of a very different future that she's turning her back on, but money would be helpful in finding safe passage, keeping witnesses quiet.
cole is resourceful though, and misha has been trained in more than just being a queen. she was supposed to be a killer out there, too. they'll figure it out. ]
Come on, we don't have a lot of time.
[ misha takes cole's hand, winds her fingers through his and squeezes, and it's not the first time she's grasped for a stolen and forbidden touch, but now, with what they're about to do, it feels brand new. ]
no subject
then she's at his side and he has to pretend like he isn't bringing what he's bringing. her touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. comfort is a stranger to him, and she's asking for it, but she's also reciprocating. he squeezes her hand back, his grip strong and assuring. with one last look at her he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.]
Whatever happens, don't make a sound. If I tell you not to look, don't look.
[orders for her coming from his own mouth are foreign, but there won't be hierarchy with what they're about to do. he's a servant, but now his role has rapidly evolved into something new. no one else will be able to watch him as she watches him.
he leads her into the halls, through the winding corridors. eyes and ears peeled for any remnant of sound; even a sneeze will give him pause. they have to make it to the carriage house. worst case scenario, they walk until reaching town, but that is the worst case. thieves lurk in the shadows of the woods and he'd like to avoid unnecessary combat.]