for bucky.

[marriageable]

[ She should really be heading home.

It’s the same thought she’s been having for the past hour — everybody else had filed out long ago, the hour hand on the wall ticking past eight. The museum had been closed three hours past already; she was sure to hear it from her mother for being late again to supper. It was not like Daphne to be late anywhere, save for the acceptable tardiness when one was being fashionable, or giving the host time to freshen up.

But she likes her job, and she really doesn’t mind the tasks handed to her; she’s the youngest of the curators, after all, eager to prove her worth.

Even if not absorbed in her work, she would think anything of a creak, or a shuffling noise in the distance. Maintenance came in at night, and old buildings make all sorts of noises.

None of it registers, until she shoulders her purse and flicks the lights off. A rustle, followed by a thud. In the dim hallway, she casts her eyes over toward the open door to the director’s office.

Something stills her from moving forward, but she calls out anyways, because it’s nothing, naturally, just another weekday night — ]

I’m heading out now, Dr. Porter. I’ll see you in the morning.

Comments

[marriageable]

[ That warrants a turn of her head, or as far as she can go, so that she can address his concern. For her to draw his eyes up to hers, three fingers under his chin. ]

Why wouldn't I? You helped me.

[ostavil]

I know. I am not...supposed to have things. So I don't think I am used to people who care about me.

( This is more difficult than he thinks it should be. Where are his words? Why isn't he able to just...be? )

[marriageable]

[ Her face creases with concern, with pain on his behalf, almost as if she feels that pain as her own. ]

That isn’t right. It shouldn’t be that way. [ She takes a breath. Reaches to stroke his hair again. Her mating gland throbs. ] It — it doesn’t have to be that way.

[ostavil]

It doesn't?

( It's strange to question it, to question anything, but he wants to. He wants to believe he can have something and the something he wants is Daphne. If he's allowed to have her as his omega, he thinks his life will be a lot better even if he isn't sure exactly how to make her happy. )

What can it be like?

[marriageable]

[ Daphne turns as much as she's capable of doing, which granted, isn't much, being stuck together. She wants to see his face. His face fills her vision. She reaches to pet his hair. ]

It can feel ... warm. [ She hesitates on that last word before settling on it. ] And beautiful. Life is beautiful, when you let it be.

[ostavil]

I want to see that.

( What he doesn't say is that he doesn't think he'll be able to because he's never been able to escape their leash for long. This is already pushing it, actually, but he wants to live in the fantasy of it for a little longer. )

I want to see it with you.

[marriageable]

[ Her nose crinkles when she smiles at him, gentle like her fingers carding his sweat-damp hair. His scent perfumes in the air. She coils a lock around her finger. Promises: ]

I'll show you. [ She settles back against his chest, quiet and content. ]

I have a name for you.

[ostavil]

( He hums a bit, completely content with himself, and this is a feeling he doesn't ever remember having. He's enjoying the feel of her against him when she speaks and then his interest is piqued. )

You do? Which name did you pick?

[marriageable]

[ Her rational mind would not be busy naming the man that kidnapped her. But her rational mind is also not at the wheel. ]

Volkov, [ she announces, only a hint of apprehension he might dislike it. Mostly, she thinks it suits him. That he will see that, too. Hopefully. ] You know what it means, don't you?

[ostavil]

You think I am a wolf? I like it. It is a strong name. It means that I can keep you safe.

( He doesn't know much about his life outside of the missions they send him on but he knows about this, about having a mate and keeping her safe. That comes on instinct. )

I won't let anyone hurt you. You belong to me.