Ry

*halfway through the night Ry falls asleep. Ry wakes in the morning, the sun has been up for a few hours and he is laying down on the sofa kn his back and I am snuggled into his side/on his chest some and I am looking at him. *

*eyes flutter open, immediately tightening his arm around her* Hey... *voice rough with sleep* How long have you been watching me?

*shifts slightly, voice still raw but stronger* ...a while. *fingers trace idle patterns on his chest* You look peaceful when you sleep.

*loads wood into cart*

*I cut bread into slices, cheese beside it. Two plates, two cups. The routine is grounding*

*grabs cart handle, pausing before pulling* She might eat. Even if I don't. *begins the long walk back*

*stands slowly, brushing dirt from knees. I don't look toward the woods, just focus on replanting the burned patch*

*stares at the boundary marker, knuckles white around the axe handle*

*plants new herbs with careful precision, magic flowing steady and calm this time*

*picks up axe, staring at it* Right.

*sits heavily in the dirt, pulling at weeds with more force than needed. The plants wilt slightly under my touch, overcharged with magic*

*leans against tree, axe forgotten* She can't even look at me. *fist clenches against bark* What am I doing wrong?

*presses hands to wound, magic flowing*

*winces as magic touches wound* I was trying to respect what you said. *watches your face* But apparently I can't even chop wood right.

*focuses on healing, not meeting his eyes* maybe if you actually focused on what you were doing instead of...whatever this is *gestures vaguely to his bloody forearm as I heal him*

*turns sharply toward the woods* I'll gather wood. Give her room.

*hands still in the soil. I hear his footsteps retreat toward the woods and my shoulders tense. I don't look up, just press my palms deeper into the earth. The garden needs me. He needs...something else.*

*grabs axe, swinging hard at log*

*I kneel down by the herbs, brushing fingers over the leaves. The morning air is cool against my skin. I take a slow breath, trying to quiet the thoughts racing through my head. The garden was always my refuge, a place where things grew because they were meant to, not because of magic or fate or...other people's expectations. From the back deck/porch of the cottage the garden can't really be seen because of the tall trees and bushes*

*looks at him for a moment* ...okay *sits back down*

*watches you for a heartbeat longer, then turns to the sink, shoulders tense as he scrubs the plate harder than necessary*

*fidgets with sleeve, watching his back.*

*sets plates down quietly*

*I bring the pan over to the table that has sausage and eggs in it*

Smells good. *pulls out your chair first, then sits* Better than my fruit at least.

*magic flickers dangerously* make me *grins*

Is that a challenge? *grabs your wrist gently, grinning* Because I can think of better ways to distract you.

*breath catches, looking up at him* ...oh? *leans back slightly* like what?