No Angel

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Had she been a child, she would have whimpered when [member="Marcello Matteo"] announced his departure. Instead, she did something almost equally stupid; and her body reminded her with about how unhappy it was with this spontaneous decision. It was like trying to move with a hippo strapped to her back -though she sprang forward with a velocity that suggested otherwise.

Kiskla was not good with emotions, though in her head she liked to think herself as romantic. The reality was that she wasn’t near any sort of sentimental. She’d always thought telling someone how she felt would need to be in some appropriate setting, somewhere blissful and serene — not in a rent-a-room in a massive sweater and underpants where she looked less like an esteemed Grandmaster and more like..well. Not really an esteemed anything.

“Marcello, wait.” She reached out to his wrist before he reached the duo of trays. The kiffar knew by now that physically trying to move Marcello without his acceptance was nigh impossible, so while she tugged she also took the liberty to cut him off of his path. Again, exhausted muscles retaliated with a warning ache. There was also a scent of the fluids Marcello had been working on earlier that sent a warning to her nostrils, but she'd have continued even if he were dripping in bantha dung. Maybe just.. without the physical elements. She could profess her compassion from a distance in that instance. But! Thankfully, that wasn't the case. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll go back to bed after this.

I promised you I had something to tell you — and I’ve told you everything tonight but what I promised. I don’t want you to leave another night not hearing something I’ve been too protective to say out loud.” She was going to sound daft if she continued speaking like this, so for both of their benefit she stopped her sentence by reaching up and preoccupying her lips with an alternative use.
On the coattails of her exhale, her voice found itself. Snowy irises captured his glacier gaze and a genuine smile touched the curls of her lips. "I love you." He likely knew already, Kiskla was reserved from exhibiting any sort of a partiality in all instances save for him. She'd also said it before once, though her words has gone unheard and suffocated by the sandman on Yinchorr. She hasn't said it out loud before though, surely, because she feared admittance. Not because she was worried about Marcello's reaction, but rather The Architects in using that emotional confession as a weakness to expose to her enemies and To herself, with visions beyond what she'd been trained to stifle. But he was gone now.

Palms slipped from his golden web to his chiseled jawline, bracing just before his ears "So much-" she assured him, sealing the dedication of her heart with a kiss. That one too ended, and was sandwiched by a restatement of what she'd already said. Mostly because she liked saying it, and who was hearing it. “Thank you for everything.” She mostly meant…feeding her and whatnot — but also his wholesome understanding through the entire confession.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

The softest of requests from [member="Kiskla Grayson"] was enough to root the large Jedi Master in place...more or less regardless of what was happening. Glacier-blue eyes focused on Kiskla as she blocked his path and pushed away pain to say...something. Were it possible, Marcello's face softened beyond all known limits as the brief kiss they shared dissipated and their eyes locked. Something within Marcello stirred. The two Jedi Masters had been intimate on several occasions and in a variety of locations and circumstances. However, before Kiskla was able to produce another syllable, the large Naboo native was struck with an air of familiarity.

The letter and two words that drifted into the air sent a multitude of emotions spiraling through Marcello's being. Whatever irritation he'd been holding on to faded almost instantly. The entire history of their interactions played through his mind like a holovid on speed as her hands repositioned. It felt like just yesterday that they were damn near trying to kill each other in a martial contest...a contest which had been designed around training others in how to fight. Clearly, the two blondes were far too stubborn to simply leave it at that...neither wishing to appear anything other than completely dominant. That constant struggle had continued for months and well into the year of their current relationship status. In the end...nobody ever really won, but they both conceded on various points and various times. Whether it was because either of them actually thought the other was right, was irrelevant. They did it because, in the end, neither wanted to know what it would really be like to drive the other away permanently.

That's right. Their relationship was...beautifully dysfunctional in some ways. Right here though...right now...anyone looking upon them would see nothing other than a deep love being conveyed between two people in practically every way. As if Marcello's emotions could not be pushed any further toward the breaking point, Kiskla uttered a reaffirmation, an emphasis that filled him with strength in several ways. As their lips found each other once more, Marcello blinked away a tear. He wasn't...super emotional in that regard, but his reality had basically just been shattered. He'd always had hope, but he'd never...expected. The Naboo native took the Kiffar for who she was always, without requirement.

Once their lips reluctantly parted again, Marcello gingerly pulled the woman into a firm hug, exhaling heavily into her bed of hair. He didn't care what he smelled like in that instant. "I love you too, Kiskla, and I always will." Eventually, Marcello had to loosen his grip to gaze at her snowy irises. "And that's why...you absolutely need to get back in the bed. I will return once I have cleaned." There was...quite literally no way he was going to spend even an ounce of time anywhere other than with her that was not necessary. But...he wasn't going to wear the same clothes tomorrow so...getting cleaned up in her quarters was completely out of the question.

Turning, Marcello angled his body to help Kiskla back to the bed.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Chemistry rippled through her at his embrace, and she let herself immerse in the electricity between them. He assured always-- and that was a long time for anybody. Perhaps significantly less for a combat-oriented Jedi considering mortal circumstances, but the sentiment remained the same. Perhaps even stronger.

A taut smile dominated her features as [member="Marcello Matteo"] flipped to command status, and physically assisted in her redirection. Following instructions was not her strong suit, but in their duo it had been evidenced that he was efficiently practical in tactical situations. When it came to addressing the masses and give an overarching direction? That was her schtick. "Okay, okay." She dropped her hands and took a step back, not to be babied. If there was one thing she could do, it was snuggle into a comforter. Oh, and throw a wicked hithering glance over her shoulder as she walked to said comforter.

"I also love when you take charge." (If I wasn't on my phone love would be italicized for emphasis).
The statement held a fraction of validity -- it was moment depending; because the overall sentiment of submission was not in line with Kiskla's spectrum of... anything. No realm of possibility to dwell in there.

Anyways. Through the little entryway to the quarters she slipped and wound herself within warmth. One couldn't be certain if the exhausted Jedi heard the departure of the other or not, but slumber certainly didn't withhold anything to make her it's captive.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello smiled thinly and shook his head at [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s comment. Well...the comment wasn't amusing so much as the manner in which it was delivered. As Kiskla settled into the bed, Marcello resumed collecting the trays. He departed the residence silently less than thirty seconds later.

After returning both trays to the mess hall, including his own untouched tray, Marcello made his way back down to the hangar to finish the work he'd basically left incomplete. It wasn't like R9 was capable of doing routine maintenance...though the little droid did do his part doing the routine systems back-up and flush. Another hour of time passed before Marcello was finally done and retired to his own modest quarters.

Emerging from the refresher cleaned up, he sunk into the comfort of his own bed. Obviously...his intent to return to Kiskla that night faded, but it was a calculated decision. They were both exhausted, and he had no desire of disturbing her slumber.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

The morning was staved off for as long as the light didn't face her window -- unfortunately, those hours were not enough. In the best of circumstances, Kiskla was a pathetic morning person. In the instance that she had exhausted all of her mental and physical resources, she was even worse. So, when the overbearing light burst its brilliance through her bedroom windows, it was met with a throaty growl. At first, her fingers moved to cover her eyes as a temporary solution.

However, this only worked for a handful of moments because even behind her eyelids the colours burned. Still, he kept her eyes covered while extending a lazy arm outward to the controls near the windows a few meters away from her. Her wrist angled to a drop, giving a metaphysical pull downward which activated the blinds to adjust and block out the persistent sunshine. This immaturity could only stretch for another hour or so however, when the ingrained sense of responsibility caused a ripple from her stomach outward. Another groan manifested and she rolled to her back, both hands folded on her stomach and staring at the inexplicably boring ceiling. The dullness of the presentation was fine, considering she wasn't even focusing on what there was to look at -- she was focusing more on how her body felt and was reacting to the slightest of movements. A toe wiggle here, an abdomen flex there, lifting her hands up and down, clicking her teeth. For the most part, the burning sensations had rescinded and she was left with only the slightest awareness of discomfort -- and likely only because she was peering for irritations. Reconciling with herself that all was relatively normal, she sat up and crawled forward, twisting her hair up in a knot as she moved. The Jedi was on a hunt now, and gravely disappointed to find that Marcello had been efficiently tidy and cleaned up after her. Leaving her with nothing to munch on in the AM. Very well. She could distract herself with a shower before getting back to the full swing of things.

Scrub-a-dub-dub that didn't take long and presto we have a nice clean Grandmaster---who was also feeling slightly introverted and didn't much feel like departing her quarters just yet. Besides, she didn't really have anywhere to go directly-- but that could easily be resolved. As usual, the first task she invested in were the Padawan requests and updates since Alderaan and her departure. As well as any other immediate information -- she knew [member="Marcello Matteo"] had promised to keep her updated, but the less he had to do the better. She also liked to be informed on her own accord. From the notifications sitting on her channel, it appeared that the prisoners from Teta had been recovered -- including some additional bodies. Padawans were needing to be trained, and there was a message from a Jedi Knight who had been abandoned; someone Ben knew. Recovering Knight Nyinx would be her first stop, and then Ossus.

For a moment, she stopped reviewing the glowing screen and covered her mouth thoughtfully. She'd told Marcello that she loved him last night, actually she'd told him a lot of things last night. A majority of them that weren't positive. And yet, she'd still promised that he loved her always. Kiskla hadn't done this before, and back on Ahto Marcello had suggested he would screw this up. The conflict of inexperience and involuntary withdrawal made the young woman slightly nervous though she doubted anything drastic would change between the pair. It's not like the confession would draw either of them to a devoted standstill and build a little house on the prairie in isolation, give up their jobs and devote all their energies to each other entirely. Neither of them were built for that sort of relationship. Were they? Well, considering that last night might have been one of the most grave of their relationship, and they hadn't ended it together, very much answered the former query.

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello had, per usual, arisen hours before the sun did on Anaxes. The conversation of the evening prior still lingered in his brain as he knew it would. His entire being desperately wanted to stay with [member="Kiskla Grayson"] the night prior, but he pushed aside what they no doubt both wanted in order to make way for what Kiskla actually needed. The Jedi Master had weighed the pros and cons of sending the wrong message, certain that the young woman would more or less understand. The thoughts melted away as Marcello finished pulling on his pants and turned to collect his shirt.

After pulling on a simple blue shirt, Marcello exited his room a couple hours after sunrise. The vast majority of the compound was alive and set to purpose already, so the Naboo native did not find himself fighting through throngs of people in the chow hall. Piling food onto only one plate this time...he ensured the portions were hearty. Even if Kiskla chose to eat pathetically again, Marcello was pretty much going to devour food.

Exiting the chow hall, Marcello greeted those that greeted him in the corridors as he made his way back to the living quarters. There were a couple of politicians and senior military officers leaving residences that he did not recognize, and they did not seem to recognize him. They saw him, sure, he was hard to miss in that regard, but they kept to themselves and did not even bother to so much as utter a greeting. That being said, Marcello certainly didn't hide what room he was going to.

Unsure of whether or not Kiskla remained asleep, he finessed open the door through the Force once more. When the door slid open, Marcello was somewhat surprised to see that the woman was awake. Given that she was awake, he was very much..not surprised to see her working. Managing a thin smile, he crossed the room without comment, allowing the door to close behind him. Setting the tray down in front of her, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thought I might actually catch you before you got up."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Domestication round two. The idea that the morning creeping on with her still beneath the covers wasn't totally beyond the realm of possibility.

"Can go back if you like." Came the flirtatious purr as he withdrew and she leaned back, extending her arms and legs like a stretching cat in her seat. Simultaneously, she set down her data pad next to the tray he delivered, grinning wryly until she picked up a fork.

“But I didn’t want to be completely fresh to the update field,” the prongs tapped the screen of the device, indicating that she’d done some research and the amount of information [member="Marcello Matteo"]’d have to divulge would be reduced. Hopefully. “-I’m aware that those that had been napped on Teta have returned,” She’d even confirmed a reception with Liadain’s former Padawan “-Received a distress signal from Eol Sha, and started reviewing the amount of Padawans ready for Masters — to which Merrill was correct in saying there will always be Jedi. Just seems they’re all coming in at once..” Clearly, she was feeling ten folds better. Speaking no longer burned her throat.

The heel of her palm met her chin, fork sticking out between her knuckles as they folded against her jawline, elbow on the desk. “What else have you got?"

 

[Marcello Matteo]

Marcello smiled mischievously at [member="Kiskla Grayson"]'s initial comment. The fact that he'd very much like that went completely without saying, but he gave it a response anyways. Leaning his head down next to her ear, he gently nipped her earlobe before offering a brief whisper. "You are always what I want."

Recoiling at a casual pace, Marcello made his way to the wall upon which one edge of the desk was nestled. Leaning against it, the large Jedi folded his arms across his chest and gazed down at Kiskla through strands of blonde hair. She basically recited everything that he'd...more or less felt actually warranted her attention or awareness. Shrugging slightly, he allowed an easy smile to settle on his lips. "That's the more critical aspects. A few other things out there...nothing new really. Reports of some Sith Pestilence on Onderon. A number of border skirmishes cropping up already. Individuals have been tasked as necessary."

Pausing, Marcello considered something. He considered it to, arguably, be the more important reality. "To your comment about new blood... It's becoming an almost daunting reality. We're taking on more demand than our current cadre of experienced Jedi can responsibly address. Our young members have no choice but to subject themselves to a baptism of fire." It ensured quality Jedi ascended to the higher ranks, but it also ensured that untold numbers were being lost at an increasing rate.

"You already know all of that. We have plenty of self-starters amidst our Knights. Surely the successes and failures of the Order will rise and fall on the backs of that critical level of membership."

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

An involuntary shudder rolled through her in response to the erogenous interaction. She could hardly focus on his next sentences after that, she was too busy making her fingertips go white from her intense fork grip.

But the topic changed and to keep herself focused she dove into the nutritious presentation. Her sight was now fully back, and she tried to distract herself with appreciating the textures of the food. Really interesting stuff.

"I know." Kiskla responded, and set down what she had been about to bite into. She'd always been a supporter of 'No threat no purpose' with training, and that real situations were the only way to guarantee performance but having unqualified persons teach those even less qualified could quickly be a downward spiral. "Membership and leadership. I could take on a few more students, teach me not to be so neglectful." Both were integral to functionality but leadership had severely even reduced — but that was in order to make others rise to the challenge -and after some resistance, she could see them stepping up.

She was also aware that [member="Marcello Matteo"] fell into that category of shouldering many a burden — though he had only recently returned, he too had jumped into the fire. This wasn’t information he’d offered , but simply derived from the records of activity. Something kept on everybody, likely even her -though she never investigated her own doings. “You’ve set yourself up as a very integral pinnacle in The Order since you got back, and taking on a lot of Padawans.” She pushed her seat back to stand and meander in his direction. Her arms moved to wrap around his waist and lock behind his back, forcing an intrusive distance between his spine and the structure he was leaning on. She gave a light squeeze and lifted to the tips of her toes, leaning into a tender peck of his lips. A smile ended the interaction, book ended with a; “Thanks.”

A hand moved from resting against his back to brush some rogue strands of blonde from his face as she continued. “I’m thinking of reaching out to the Levantines once more. The timing isn’t completely tender now, but Rosa and Ilias offered their assistance before. They have many qualified masters in their end of space that could also assist in training students — it’s just a matter of making sure that relationship is still there."

She dropped her hands and stepped away a foot step for two, gesturing as she spoke when it was appropriate. "I've got to do some conditioning of our own before that foot steps forward; make sure it's more of a two way street than my prior attempts." She frowned slightly at the recollection of the lack of response from the SJO and Levantines to come together against The Sith and put their self-erected barriers to rest. But, professionalism prevailed long enough for her personal wants to push the memories from the forefront of her mind. "So that venture is not for today" Kiskla reassured him, wrapping an arm around her waist and propping an elbow against the wrapped forearm, biting down lightly on her pointer finger as if she had looked contemplative a moment ago. Light eyes were transfixed though, on the single being of interest in the area. She'd just admitted a clear schedule for this day to him, but she was coming in blind to this -- unknowing although hopeful to her lover's plans. So, that index finger drew across her lipline so that only the nail was wedged thoughtfully and coquettishly between her teeth. "What does your Thursday look like?"