Private The Parent's Trap

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Everything was going to be fine? Fine? Really?

At this point, Myra took her free hand to grab the washcloth Makai had pressed to the back of her neck. Finally looking up at his ice-blue gaze, she wiped at her mouth with the damp cloth, trying to get the taste of the bile off of it.

“Five, ten, f-fifty years? Everything will be fine? Is that why you said it’s better for me to marry Casteel instead?! Because then that will be fine?!”

It was like an echo of preteen Myra, but the hurt that shone in her eyes was evident in a way it hadn’t in the past.

“I never — t-there’s nothing,” another sniffle and muffled sputter as she wiped at her mouth again.

“ - at all with him. How could you say that?!“ when it’s always been you.

In her daydreams. In her fantasies. In her loab paper diaries, she practiced writing her signature and adding Dashiell at the end. Watching, waiting, hoping, praying, fighting, cursing, crying, obsessing with such stupid, foolish love for a blasted idiot who couldn’t see just how much she loved him.

“It’s you. It’s a-always been you.” She cried out, tears starting to fall from those stormy gray eyes, carving silver trails down her splotchy red cheeks.

Myra was not a pretty drunk.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

He had known about Casteel for less than four hours and he already had heard more than enough for the next four years.

Makai hadn't meant Ellie should actually be with Casteel. He had grown irritated at the fawning over the faceless blonde and the words had just tumbled out. He didn't expect to have them bite him in the ass so soon however.

“I was irritated. A little jealous. I shouldn't have said you'd be better off with him. I’m sorry.”

Hurt danced in those stormy gray eyes as tears started to fall. Now he felt like a complete idiot. Some things never change.

“Don't cry.” Too late for that Makai.

Dry towel came to wipe her face. He knew alcohol amplified fears and insecurities but he didn't expect it to come out so forcefully.

“I love you. It's you and me on this adventure. Nothing is going to change that. Not vomit, not some blonde dreamboat.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Makai dried her tears, but a few more returned. It was evident that imbibing too much alcohol heightened Myra’s insecurities and loosened her filter to provoke a few inside thoughts to turn into outside ones. Where she had lashed out aggressively in the past and just called Makai an idiot, in this instance, a snapshot or snippet of why she was upset would be relayed.

It was progress when considering Makai could pick up on it and not blank it out like before. Judah’s credits were not spent in vain.

His apology and affirmation that he loved her placated Myra, allowing her to calm down a bit. By now, her head felt slightly less muddled, but if she swung her head left and right too hard, it made her feel lightheaded.

Wait a second.

Blinking rapidly, she appeared confused, furrowing the dark slant of her brows forward.

“Jealous? You get jealous?” That’s new. It was usually Myra who befriended that green-eyed companion regarding Makai. Funny, the things her inebriated mind decided to focus on.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Of all the things he said she latched on to that. Granted, it didn't help that she perceived his inaction as indifference throughout the years.

“Yes, I do.” A pause. “However, I trust you. So I find it wise to not make such thoughts known all the time. I don't want to tighten my grip so hard it turns you against me. I've already did the entire losing you thing once.”

Hand squeezed her shoulder gently.

“Make sense?”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Myra seemed to muse on that a bit before giving a slow nod. Had she been more sober, she might have indicated she’d welcome him, telling her he was jealous that he wanted all her attention, much like she did with him. However, with all the gossip the four high society busybodies spilled, she was more worried about misunderstandings of where Casteel sat in the hierarchy of things.

Afterward, she stared at him and asked quietly, “So you believe me?”

The terrible things Blanche and the others said still rang in her head.

“He’s just my escort. N-nothing - “ Myra stammered again and looked to the side, watching the water from the two shower heads fall in the refresher. Splotchy red face flushed entirely red.

“I’ve never - nothing ever happened.” please read between the lines; her expression seemed to plead.

“I don’t want a last fling.” A pause, and then those smoky grey eyes came back to caress his face.

“I want you.”

 

[Makai Dashiell]

"I believe you. I wasn't trusting a word that came out of those old bats mouths to begin with.”

It was starting to dawn on him Mrs. Meris invited him over not to take out the rubbish or eat baked goods, but for high society gossip. Makai was no doubt quite a bore until Ellie showed up this morning for a day out.

At least his oblivious self never said much of importance. He has always been too busy stuffing his face.

Her admission of never having that type of relationship with Casteel wasn't all too surprising but it had weighed on the back of his mind.

“I want you too. Only you.”

Makai gently kissed her forehead,hoping it was safe from the vomit.

“Just remember these words when you're angry at me Ellie Arceneau. Remember you willingly picked me.”

A teasing grin showed up on his face.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

All those little tidbits from Makai gave the inebriated Myra a little burst of warmth in her chest, blooming at the gentle press of a kiss on her clean forehead.

Myra couldn't help the wide smile she shone after that. Not a tear in sight. Well done, Makai, you've survived your first, likely not your last, drunk Myra.

She'd shut her eyes when he kissed her forehead, so while she didn't see his teasing grin, she still heard it in his voice.

"That's not new. Just don't get mad if I call you an idiot." Or walk away. That part didn't come out. Not yet. Even intoxicated as she was, she held back on that. Too soon.

Taking a deep breath, Myra tipped her head back to rest the back of it against the wall behind her. The wooziness was getting better, but it would linger unless she got something in her stomach or hydrated.

And oh, right. Toothbrush.

"I need a toothbrush." I don't have one. Also, this dress had to come off. She let the damp washcloth fall to the floor and then began to try to unbutton all the front buttons of the summer dress. She had the bathing suit underneath anyway.

But the vomit dress had to come off.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

“I've always been an idiot so it's hard to dispute the facts.”

Watching her fumble around with the buttons, Makai was about to step out until he realized she had the bathing suit underneath. His eyes had drifted elsewhere on the heiress once her hands tried to work on getting herself free from the vomit dress.

“I'm going to get you a toothbrush and food and whatever else you want.”

Against his better judgment,hands gently came to overtake hers and unbutton the summer dress.

“Let me help.”

Icy eyes lingered over her form, the newfound curves before settling on her face. It was safer there rather than the task at hand. He felt himself blush and prayed she wouldn't notice.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

“I planned on it,” Myra told him without any filter in a manner an inebriated person is wont to do. If Makai thought staring at her face was the safe bet, it wasn’t. She may not look her best, with her hair askew, makeup ruined, and eyes slightly red-rimmed with her crying, not to mention vomit breath, but the sheer honesty in her expression steeled by liquid courage and a lack of filter was lethal.

“To help. With the buttons.” Here was a snapshot of Myra’s mindset. On why she had agonized over what to wear. “Only got this dress imagining you taking it off.”

Well, now he knew why it took three hours.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

“So it took you three hours to find a dress with enough buttons to draw this out? Quite the temptress Ells.”

The only upside right now to a drunk, crying Ellie was the lack of filter. Makai felt only a little guilty to be taking advantage of it ; the straightforward thoughts instead of ones muddled by filters and worry.

“It's working, I haven't been able to take my eyes off your breasts for more than minutes at a time. If things were…umm…different right now I'd be joining you in that shower.”

Bold but the truth. Yet he would never do such a thing with her in such a state. If they were going to do something so drastic he wanted her sober and fully aware.

It was still thrilling to at least be able to convey his deepest desire.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Myra didn’t feel like a temptress. She never considered herself one. She just wanted a fantasy to come into play, with the knowledge going in that it wasn’t likely ever going to happen. Three hours for the right dress. With enough buttons to make any red-blooded male think of taking them off. The whisper of fabric falling to the floor, imagining the look in Makai’s eyes.

Knowing he finally sees her.

Vomit dress aside, having Makai help her with the buttons, feeling the gentle tug and brush of his coarse finger pads pluck then slide the tiny pearl buttons aside immediately had her hitch her breath. The admission that he had been looking at her curves and noticing them only made the flutter in her neck skip again.

“You still could. Join me.” She told him, blinking up at him.

Oh. I should stand now. Since she’d been sitting on the lavatory, taking the rest of the buttons would be more complicated if she kept sitting.

So she attempted to stand, serving to sway before she steadied herself with a slight laugh.

This time, it was her turn to tease.

“You have your swim trunks on.” And she still had her bathing suit.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Myra Elspeth Korden Arceneau Kuhn was a dangerous woman.

Makai was at a crossroads. Did he take her up on her invitation or did he politely decline? There was the fact her insecurities were laying very raw at the surface,fueled by alcohol. If he declined did it roll back the progress they had just pushed through?

How much was she going to remember? Would it damage anything further?Probably not. As she so helpfully pointed out, he still had his trunks on.

“Of course I will.”

This is going to go great or horribly wrong.

---

“But…but you said you wanted to spend your nights in my bed…”

Even intoxicated she was brilliant, remembering his words exactly. Makai had argued that technically that it was his bed but it was a very half-hearted argument and one he knew he was going to lose right out of the gate.

So she had finally got her toothbrush, some carb-ladened food, and as much water and riptide rush he could get her to drink.

Now she was stretched out on his side of the bed, half-lidded eyes looking both sleepy and content all at once. Ellie had found of all things, a white button-down shirt with a few strategic buttons left undone. Yet her secret was out; Makai knew her game now. Not that he had any complaints.

“A whole lot easier without the IVs and wires and being terrified.”

An offhand comment as he slipped into bed, having changed into an undershirt and pajama pants, intent on being as comfortable as possible. He remained sitting up slightly, pulling her close until her head tucked against his shoulder, body pressed against his side. Arm went around her, fingers gently grazing against her upper arm.

Makai had no intention of sleeping yet. Remote turned on the holovid, tuning in the graviball game ; Tatooine Twins versus Dac Dodgers. He kept the volume on low, the screen illuminating the otherwise now dark room.

He wanted to enjoy some quiet moments reflecting on their day, to enjoy the feeling of her completely trusting and relaxed against him.

“Get some rest, you need it.”

Hospital room was darkened but it didn't stop the beeping, the roar of machines, or the light spilling in from the hallway. Makai sat in an uncomfortable chair right next to the bedside of his best friend, hand holding hers in a death grip. She was asleep but it was clear it wasn't restful, pain etched across her face.

From a corner lounger, his father shifted in his sleep, thin blanket covering him. The Dashiell men had offered to take up night watch and give Danger and Alric a much needed break.

He asked Dad if Ellie was going to die. His only response - this will mold you into the man you need to be or break you down. Not exactly helpful nor an answer in his eyes.

“Get some rest,you need it.”

Small strained voice broke his internal thoughts. Makai squeezed her hand gently and shook his head, shaggy hair doing most of the movement.

“It's too late to boss me around.”

“I'm not bossy.” Voice was tired, no bite behind the usual words. It terrified him.

“Come lay with me? Please?”

Makai paused, concerned he would hurt her. He saw the look in her eyes despite the dim lighting, he couldn't say no. Navigating a series of tubes, leads, and wires he found a place next to his friend, her head tucking against his shoulder.

“Thanks.” Body relaxed, eyes closed and Makai could feel her starting to drift off. He couldn't sleep though and flipped on some old Captain Atlantis cartoons to watch while she slept.

Not that he could focus on the cartoon antics. His mind was elsewhere. Drifting into the fact Ellie seemed to be fading with each day.

He couldn't lose her, he would turn into a ship with no port.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

The morning sun seeped through the frosted solarium glassteel, gently bathing the room in a soft golden hue. Myra blinked, her eyes adjusting to the warmth that enveloped her. A faint headache throbbed at Myra's temples as she gradually became aware of her surroundings.

The events of the previous night were shrouded in a foggy haze, memories dancing on the fringes of her mind but refusing to solidify. Confusion settled over her as she realized she wasn't in her own bed. Instead, she found herself lying in an unfamiliar room, snug beneath soft, comfortable blankets. Solid warmth permeated her side, a heavy weight at her waist, air gently fanning along the top of her head—another slumbering figure. Someone was holding her.

Wait a minute.

She turned her head up slightly, her heart skipping a beat in alarm until she realized it was Makai sleeping peacefully beside her. He lay there, his tousled hair casting shadows on his peaceful face. Myra watched him for a moment, her mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. The mere proximity to him sent a rush of warmth through her veins, tinged with a touch of nervousness.

What happened? She recalled the sailing trip, his dizzying kisses, and the annoyance of being interrupted by the four high society matrons. Anger. There had been anger and such a nauseating feeling. Mortification and being upset. Yet that was it. The uncertainty of not remembering the previous night's events tugged at her.

How did I get here? Her inquisitive grey eyes swept over the bedroom to take in what she could. The walls were frosted, floor-to-ceiling windows, and while the orientation did not provide for the rays of the morning sun to shine in, it was enough to give enough light to illuminate the expansive bed. There was a side table beside the bed, with the dim light of the Holoframe illuminating the image of two kids with their arms curving around each of their shoulders. One had a messy mop of dark hair and a cheesy grin, the other large grey eyes and a shy smile, backdropped by the bright blue of Dac's sea. Makai and Myra, as kids.

She glanced over herself and her circumstances, and the reality finally hit her that she was lying in Makai's bed. A brief rush of nerves shot through her until she realized she was thankfully clothed – only to realize it wasn't her own she was wearing. An oversized men's button-up with a brazen amount unbuttoned at the top, and, after a quick check amidst her blushing, underwear as well. Her face flamed further once she realized they were Makai's boxer briefs.

Did he change my clothes? Did I? How did we even…These questions echoed in her mind, swirling amidst the jumble of emotions she felt for Makai. Turning her head to look at his sleeping face again, Myra's heart fluttered with conflicting emotions – love, longing, and a trace of uncertainty.

As she watched him, memories flashed through her mind – pillow forts and whispered secrets, the playful innocence of their childhood with childhood sleepovers. The angst and frustrations of their teenage years. But now, here they were, adults, navigating the complexities of life and love and struggling to find out where they are meant to be.

Waking up next to Makai again was a dream she had given up on years ago after that terrible fight ended with their departure, miscommunication resulting in years of separation, and, on Myra's part, a deep hurt. It felt as if she had been split in two. As the years passed, she struggled with the realization that perhaps Makai would not be a part of her life, no longer as a best friend or in a romantic sense, as she'd wanted him to see her for so long.

Yet there he was, so close, his presence a comforting warmth beside her, the heavy weight of his arm cradling her waist, holding her close, as if even in slumber, he wanted her near. He slept on his side and turned towards her, one thigh casually resting over her bare one. She couldn't help but steal glances at the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his inky black lashes brushed against his cheek.

Myra couldn't deny the pull she felt toward him, a magnetic force that transcended their years-long friendship. The desire to touch him, to let her fingers trace the contours of his face, was overpowering.

So she did, one hand gingerly rising, fingers curling inwards save for her pointer finger. Holding her breath and with a delicate caress, Myra used the soft pad of the digit to trace the arch of his cheekbone.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

At first, he thought Kuro had come in to bother him for breakfast. Yet he didn't feel the typical weight of the loth-cat on his shoulder and usually his pet tried to poke his eye out. No, this was a whisper soft trace against his cheekbone.

Cerulean eyes opened, surprise danced in them before the recognition hit, softening in adoration when he realized who was touching his face. Makai was content, no dream he experienced last night touched the reality of their time in the shower, of waking up next to her. He was a man drowning in her orbit with no intent to ever surface for air.

Body shifted slightly, head lifting from the pillow to kiss her temple, hand tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.

“Good morning Mistress Arceneau.” Voice was low in her ear, thick with sleep as he struggled to fully wake up.

Hand lovingly caressed her cheek before dropping, arm slipping back against her waist. Makai rested back against his pillow, no intent on disentangling himself from her just yet. He had waited years to wake up next to her and it had been well worth the wait. Last night had unlocked feelings that had lay just below the surface, unsaid and unsure. Yet they both had expressed how much they loved and wanted one another. The heated kisses, the hands through his hair, her complete trust in him. There was no doubt he was fully engulfed by the storm that was Myra Elspeth Korden Arceneau Kuhn.

Cerulean met piercing cashmere, concern growing in his own eyes. Ellie had a rough evening, catching the brunt of the alcohol.

“How are you feeling? Your head probably hurts.”

Hand gently rubbed at her waist.

“Give me a few minutes, I'll get you caf and some medicine.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

As her finger drew lower towards his jawline, the azure of his scales along his neck caught her attention. There is a constant fascination with Makai that Myra could not put into words. When they were kids, back when Myra hadn't known any better for the reasons for Makai's scales. They shimmered like jewels under the sunlight, and when they dipped into the water, they took on a dazzling radiance that left Myra in awe. The way they caught the light, reflecting hues of azure and cerulean, fascinated her.

Makai never understood her fascination, but he humored her, allowing her to study them until his need to show her something else took over excitedly. But for the brief moments, she'd been able to delicately run her fingers along those smooth, cool scales, marveling at their intricacy and the way they seemed to ripple and shimmer with every movement.

Her mama always had choice words to say about Makai's ma back at the Farm. She never said them aloud around Judah or Makai, but when talking to Alric, Myra overheard them. Say what you want about the Fishwife, but the allure of Makai's unique aquatic heritage she gave him was a marvel to behold.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Makai stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He met her gaze with a soft smile, and then she felt the warm press of his lips against her temple. This was enough to make her blush in bashfulness, but it quickly turned into something more as soon as he spoke, his voice low and husky with sleep.

Good morning, Mistress Arceneau.

He had a raspy, warm quality to his voice that would float along the shell of her ear, the warmth of his breath fanning against it. From the depths of the foggy mire, Myra's mind would overlap it with a sensual, warm timbre in resonance. Immediately, the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end, and her breath gave an unconscious hitch in memory. Her heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding her cheeks, her hand drawing back to rest by his chest, feeling the softness of his undershirt.

"... G-good morning," Myra stammered, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness and perplexity. Why did he say that? He referred to her like L3 did. Was he making fun of her? Before she could ask, he gave her cheek a loving caress, distracting her with his questions, concern evident in his gaze. That's when his hand began rubbing at her waist, the heat of his skin permeating over the fabric of the button-up.

A hazy memory rose, the sensation of fingers digging into her hip only to move to her waist tickled at her senses. Myra's mouth went dry. She didn't move away from his touch, but her legs gave a slight shift and slid against each other, feeling squirmy but unsure why. Blinking rapidly, she tried to process what she could. She was in Makai's clothes, in his bed, he was - thankfully clothed - and she couldn't remember how they got here. Despite the lingering confusion, Myra felt a sense of ease wash over her, finding solace in the easy familiarity of Makai's presence. While they only just reunited, Myra wholly trusted Makai. He would never deliberately cause her any harm. Sure, he might have been oblivious to her affections in the past, but he wouldn't do anything to take advantage of her.

Yet, the question of what occurred remained.

A brief silence settled between them, the air filled with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. Myra struggled with her words, unsure of how to broach the topic of their unexpected proximity.

"Yeah, just a bit fuzzy on last night," Myra admitted, finding herself fidgeting with the fabric of his shirt. Her mind raced, unsure of how to address the situation. "I..." her lips parted only to close.

"... What happened?" Another pause, cheeks turning pink at the reminder of her present circumstance, her position in his bed, and her donning of what she could only assume were his clothes. It was a dream come true, but she would rather know the why, how, and if she made a fool of herself.

"We were on the yacht... then." thoughts came to her regarding security. Was she poisoned? Did she suffer a heat stroke?

"...how did I get here?"

 

[Makai Dashiell]

When he saw the bashfulness on her face at his rather chaste kiss, Makai chalked it up to a memory, a reflection the morning after. Yet when he greeted her with the Mistress Arceneau confusion had taken over. Was she confused as to why he did it? For him, it was a lame attempt at letting her know she was an absolute temptress coupled with the buried desire to have her in control. If she didn't like it of course he would drop the term without a second thought, although

Ellie had never shied away from putting her foot down when it came to him.

Hand stopped its ministrations as Ellie mentioned she couldn't remember the events of the night previously. His stomach immediately felt as if it had a pit of ice inside. Makai felt a wave of rising despair at the fact she didn't remember a damn thing. Nothing. Not the confessions. Not the breathless kisses. The declaration of want and desire.

“Nothing at all?”

Makai couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice even if he wanted to. He had known this was a real possibility in the back of his mind. While he was grateful for what transpired, he had wanted to share it with her, to turn that corner together. Makai didn't mind starting back from square one but he had hoped last night would have erased awkward feelings around their physical desire towards one another.

If she couldn't remember…

“Last night was amazing. A lot of things did go wrong but you know what? So much went right…I…it was one of the best days of my life so far.”
A soft smile graced his features as he thought back. For Makai this was a massive shift in their relationship.He finally felt as if he was on solid footing with her for the first time since their fight, maybe even before. She was all in, he was all in.

There was no doubt anymore.

Makai caught the nervousness, the look in her eye.

“We didn't have sex, if that's what you're thinking. Thankfully I was only buzzed because if I was drunk this morning would be very different.”

He paused, thinking out loud.

“I don't even have condoms. I guess after that near-episode maybe I should.”

Hand ran through his messy hair, realizing he got off track. His body shifted slightly, thigh disentangling from hers in case she didn't want to be as close as he desired.

It was hard. Ellie had unlocked a deep desire within, as if giving him the green light, and it was difficult to reconcile the morning after for him at the moment.

“Getting that out of the way… you drank some weird Zeltron ‘lemonade’ , got sick and vomited on said Zeltron. I've never been more proud of you by the way.”

A pause.

“You were so tipsy? Drunk? I had to carry you back here. You had bile all over that amazing dress but couldn't stand. So…we showered together. In our bathing suits!”

He was quick to clarify, not wanting her to think he was inappropriate in his actions.

“Then we…uh, we have some really intimate moments. Ellie I never knew you wanted me so much. That was validating and eye-opening and just.. perfect. You're perfect.”

Makai was rambling like his younger self at this point. Partially out of nerves. Partially because he was still on such a high of being wholly loved by her. Makai wasn't sure that high was going away anytime soon.

Hand brushed hair away from her neck, a deep purple mark a reminder of the night before. A fond smile broke through as he continued.

“Then I gave you a hickey…I…I don't even have the words Ells. To elicit such a response? To know I can make you gasp and…just, I don't know, turn you on with one simple action?

Makai thought it best to stop his rambling and let her process what he had told her so far. Perhaps he had said too much? He was certain she might need more context.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Makai's dismay was palpable. Myra could see it in his eyes, the soft tenderness in his gaze melting into one of crestfallen disappointment.

Nothing at all?

Myra opened her lips, only to shut them, eyes widening as her stomach began to churn at what events could have transpired last night to create such a reaction from Makai. She shook her head from right to left, her loose hair ticking her cheeks, but more annoyingly, getting caught under the weight of her head. As Makai began to explain, Myra did her best to lift herself half up, trying to pull the length of her thick hair from under and over her shoulder. At least, she tried to because once Makai began summarizing the events, Myra quickly began to wish she could hide behind it.

That had been one of his best days, and so much went right. The icy topaz in his eyes warmed in memory, his lips curving upward with a mesmerizing smile in remembrance, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and happiness.

Again, he has no right to look so good right out of bed, she mused, distracted by the way his tousled hair curbed over his forehead, the warmth of his body beside her, and that husky just woke-up timbre in his voice that was only enhanced by his reminiscing of last night. A wave of flustered disbelief washed over Myra. But it was only the beginning.

The credit rose.

We didn't have sex, if that's what you're thinking. Thankfully, I was only buzzed because if I was drunk, this morning would be very different.

The credit falls.

Wait. What?! Myra's heart immediately stopped, her attention drawing from his mouth to his eyes in growing alarm.

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no!

Not in fear that something might have happened, but after all this time, longing, pining, waiting in anticipation, she didn't remember anything about it!

I don't even have condoms. I guess after that near-episode, maybe I should.

"Wh."--what?!! Myra couldn't even finish the word, voice failing her. Near episode??! Did we almost have sex?! And I don't remember any of it?! How, why?? With each word uttered, her eyes grew wider, her mouth falling open in shock. The weight of Makai's words hit Myra like a thunderbolt. The conflicting emotions swirled within her-- a mix of joy, disbelief, and frustration at not remembering what she'd fantasized about for so long. Also, didn't he realize there were stims for that? No, wait, it's not important right now!

Just what happened? Then Makai explained. The lemonade had been a potent alcoholic drink concocted by that Zeltron floozy. In turn, Myra became drunk and threw up all over Blanche after the effects had snuck up on her.

"I...did what?" Myra murmured, her voice trembling with emotion. Aghast that she had thrown up in front of Makai, exposing a side of her she didn't want ever to let him see again. That was not the image she wanted to present to him. Nevermind he said it was an amazing dress! Of all the mortifying...A torrent of emotions flooded her peaking with the image he painted regarding cleaning up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. We showered together?

Oh. My. Goodness.

Ellie, I never knew you wanted me so much. That was validating, eye-opening, and just.. perfect. You're perfect.

What. Did. I. Do? What did I do? How did she finally make Makai realize how much she wanted him? It could be any number of embarrassing scenarios. Oh my stars, don't tell me I attacked him with my vomit breath like a drunken Zeltron in heat?

By now, Myra had pushed herself up into a sitting position. Her hair was a wild mess, with that button-up askew and gaping at the front enough to reveal the flush of her skin over her decollete. So when Makai brought his fingers up to tuck wayward strands of mahogany hair away from her neck. That's when he went in for the final kill.

The graze of his blunt fingertips sailed over where that crimson stain popped in stark contrast against her alabaster skin. His eyes seemed to darken looking at it, not just in fondness but with other emotions tied to the intimate act. Pleasure at the memory of the warmth of her damp skin beneath his lips, the remembrance of the gasps of delight he had elicited from her, and the thrilling sense of claiming her as his own.

Myra's hand immediately rose to her neck, where Makai's lingering caress seemed to burn like a brand. He gave me a hickey?! Her mind reeled, torn between the surreal revelation and her inability to remember.

"Oh. My. Goodness." Each word was punctuated in mortification, frustration, and albeit on par for the course, a sense of dramatics. Feeling the need to sink into a hole, the young heiress flopped back onto the pillow. She immediately covered her burning face with the blankets as if that would help hide some of the horrifying shame and disbelief at what she could have possibly done to Makai to warrant such a response -- and then not remember a single moment of it.

"What did I do?" her muffled voice almost wailed out, "Don't tell me I attacked you in the shower?!"

Knowing her darkest fantasies, she wouldn't have put herself past it. What could she have done to get Makai to the point of giving her a hickey? Her mind was running wild. She'd never consider that it had been Makai who had initiated such an act, encouraged by Myra's confession regarding her fantasy of strategically selecting her dress and bathing suit with the thought of him taking it off. Seeing is believing, and there had been no doubt in the reality of the emboldened, liquid courage and blunt honesty revolving around Myra's affection for Makai.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

Makai had been propped up in bed at this point, watching her go through every range of emotion possible. He felt bad for her, for the range of emotions she couldn't put words to. Now she was laying back on the pillow, blankets covering her face, muffling her words. He could understand to a point. It had to be frightening to wake up without much in the way of memory. Yet it was him. It was clear from the night before she trusted him and he hoped there were no doubts about his chivalry.

Makai adjusted his position to where he could sit up and lean over her. Weight was positioned on one elbow, facing her, their bodies barely apart. Free hand slowly removed her blanket hideout down to her neck. There was nowhere to run to, his body trapping her.

“Ellie.”

Grey orbs finally opened.

“Ellie, it's okay. You didn't embarrass yourself. You could never embarrass me.” He used her words from last night despite knowing she wouldn't remember. “You didn't do anything inappropriate, we didn't do anything inappropriate.”

“I know it's going to be hard to separate the two but you don't have to worry about being Myra the Trade Heiress when it's us, at home, in complete privacy. It's okay to be Ellie.”

Makai shifted a little, thinking for a moment.

“Do you remember when I lived at the farm and we had that private tutor, Mr. Kits? Always wore those weird tweed suits. Either way, we were doing this assignment on symbolism in literature. There's this quote that has stuck with me, because it made me realize I had the biggest kid crush on you possible.”

He smiled at the memory, the original book still tucked in his office. He could quote word for word the passage he had read so much.

“We fall in love with people whose darkness we recognize. You can fall in love with a person for all of the right reasons, but that kind of love can still fall apart. But when you fall in love with a person because your monsters have found a home in them-- that's the kind of love that owns your skin and bones. Love, I am convinced, is found in the darkness. It is the candle in the night.”

Ocean blue sought out stormy grey.

“I love you unconditionally Ellie. Every piece of you. You don't have to hide when it's us, you don't have to shy away.”

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Swallowing hard, Myra stared up at Makai, held in place not just by his words but also by the sheer presence of all he was hovering over her.

Her tendency for dramatics was well known to Makai. She had them when she found her voice, finally able to verbalize her thoughts aloud. They only grew worse when it came to anything regarding Makai. It was a wonder that it hadn’t pushed him away sooner, even if it eventually did come to a head in that last terrible fight that led to almost half a decade of separation.

It was why Myra was so scared—scared that it would happen again. Afraid that if he saw the worst parts of her again, he’d leave.

Maybe that’s why, beyond the fantasies and desires to dress in a way that would make Makai look at her as a woman, it was also her method of showing her best foot forward. To not be the crazy, obsessed, overanalyzing, easily anxious wreck that she truly was.

Yet there he was. That he wasn’t embarrassed by her; words that resonated from the mire again, hitting her with vague remembrance. All the while, Makai stared down at her with that probing, cerulean gaze that just cut through her defenses and saw her for the hot mess she was. Telling her he loved her wholly and unconditionally—every single messy piece.

How did he have that way about him to make her feel so vulnerable but yet so secure? It was senseless. But maybe that’s what love did. It made crazy things seem right. That light in the dark. Like that quote, he just recited.

“… you had a crush on me as a kid?” That didn’t make sense. She would have picked up on it, right? Or was she too obsessed and close to Makai that she missed it in its entirety?

She had other questions. More things to say. But she was still processing— And hating herself for not remembering what clearly had been a night great enough for Makai to take action in ways they hadn’t before. She couldn’t help but let her fingertips draw over where he’d told her he gave her a hickey. How would it have felt? What else would they have done?

 

[Makai Dashiell]

A soft smile for her, eyes noticing her fingers ghosting along her neck where he had marked her so possessively.

“Yes, of course. I made the connection sitting there, staring across at you instead of doing my assignment. We were eleven or twelve, I don't know. Before we were teens.”

Makai moved again, now his back against the headboard as he sat up fully, allowing her free movement since he was done with the first part of his story. Blankets bunched up at his waist as he stretched his legs out.

“Story time.”

He had never laid out this portion of his life before and he wondered how Ellie was going to take it. Especially since she was still processing so much from their night and what he just said.

“So, my Ma left us twice. First for a year when I was four or so. Flight Captain, some kind of assignment. The second time…. I was a little older six or seven. Right before we met in fact.”

“The second time…the second time, it was just me and Ma at home. She wakes me up and hugs me, says she has to do something for Dad, that my grandparents are coming over. Well, of course I'm all forms of excited and want to go too.”

“She says I can't. Tells me to go to my room but you know, little me digs in my heels. Ma just starts getting angry, telling me Dad is going to ground me when he gets home for a entire month. No holo time, chocochews, no trips.”

Makai turned his head away from Ellie, not wanting her to see his reaction for the next part.

“I naturally started to cry. She looks at me and walks away without looking back. She yelled at me and just left. My grandparents hadn't even arrived yet.”

He paused for a long while, drawing a shaky breath as if not to cry. Face finally turned to her to continue his tale.

“Then I moved to Dac and about two weeks later I met you. I remember being so excited, I didn't care if you couldn't speak. I slapped you with a nickname you probably don't even like and just forced you to be my friend.”

Makai couldn't help chuckle at his explanation of their first encounter.

“Then from there we were inseparable. Part of it was me being clingy from what happened but another part of it was just you filled this lonely void. I felt like a normal kid once again.”

“Everything is fine until we move into our teenage years. Around fourteen or so my Ma came back and didn't remember a single thing. Nothing about her life, including me. It was worse than believing she had died and I wrestled with the fact that deep down, I wish she never came back, that she really did die. There's a lot of guilt associated with that.”

“That's when our turbulence started in earnest. I was eating chocochews and trying to fly ships and really do anything to earn my Mas love back. Then every time you got angry at me or raised your voice I just froze. The little scared six year old boy inside me was afraid you were going to leave too. Teenage me didn't know how to express this. Part stupidity, part not wanting to look weak in front of you.”

“Then we fight and we really do leave one another. I go to Tatooine to talk to your Ma and wallow in my own misery inside a firegem mine, determined to dehydrate myself to death. Miss Arceneau said…Myra ain't your Ma, that you wouldn't leave, but I already knew this time was different. I was too frozen and you were too hurt.”

Makai took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“All this long rambling story to tell you I never wanted to leave, I never wanted to stop talking. I had this massive crush mixed with a lot of emotional issues and it wasn't a good time. I could never express how much I loved you and miscommunication just made it a horrible mess.”

“If I could change things, I would just tell my teenage self to let you know how I felt. To tell you the story about my Ma and don't worry about looking like a stoic man so soon in life. I can't change what happened though. This tale of woe isn't an excuse. Think of it as insight as to what caused our fight.”

He gently took her hand, weaving his fingers together with hers. He needed her steady connection, her touch, her strength.

“Your love has always been the candle in the night for me, especially in those dark days. Even when we we were apart, I never stopped thinking of you.”