Kashik watched as the last wall between them crumbled, knew it in the strength of his arms around her and the flicker of light against his eyes, knew him and felt the world dissolve just as surely as he had. There were only the two of them, and whatever it was that troubled his soul they would fix together, two halves acting as a whole just as Cheva had intended man and woman to be. She listened with every fiber of her being, hands returning to curl around his neck.
And then you left. Her brows furrowed then, not because it was an accusation, but because her action had caused him pain. She'd known, though, that had she stayed and pursued him, he wouldn't have been ready for this moment - no, he'd needed that time for his heart to find it's own beat again. And though there was a moment of doubt just in the middle, when he told her that he'd given his heart away but before he revealed that it wasn't to be, when she thought he might be telling her that she'd missed her chance, she ignored the ridiculous twinge in favor of the love she saw in his gaze, the touch of his hands against her arms, the very fact that he was unburdening himself to her. And the rest of his words only served to prove that love.
She felt not the slightest touch of jealousy that he'd loved others in her absence. It had brought him joy, for all that it seemed in the end it brought him sorrow, and he'd learned how to give his heart again. Had he not given it to these women, whoever they were, he wouldn't have now known how much he needed her, would not have truly understood what he was asking. Her hands slid down to rest against the hard muscles of his chest just as his own tangled in her hair.
When he took her face between his hands, she trembled a little and halted her shuffling steps. Jewel-bright eyes widened, pupils dilated as if desperate to see every detail of his face, that gorgeous smile. Some small part of her brain whispered to her that she would remember this moment for all her life, and she didn't bother to argue. All she could do for a moment was stare up at him, and though a few moments' silence stretched on there was no hint of indecision anywhere on her face - she simply needed to remember how to move her tongue to form the words that would express what already lay in her eyes.
"The gods made me for you," she whispered, something profound and holy in that utterance. It was as if her whole life until this moment had been leading her to Vanator, to find him and open his heart and then leave him to let it blossom. And now that she loved him, she knew that she couldn't possibly live without him - and in that moment, she felt nothing but sympathy for the poor women who he'd given his heart to, for it was not an easy thing to be loved by this man. Kashik knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she ever lost him she would never recover, and she sincerely hoped that those others who'd loved him would not suffer the same fate. If she could, she would help them - not for herself, but because Vanator loved them, and she could not but love what he loved. Didn't even know them, but she would count them friends if for nothing else than for playing their part in helping his heart to heal.
"Yes," she finally breathed, a smile bursting across her lips. And then it twisted into something more wry and playful, achingly familiar to this man who'd first seen it as she laughed and spun in the torrential spring rains. One of her hands curled into a fist and she lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Gods, I thought you'd never get around to asking," she said, laughter threading her voice until it spilled out and washed over him, bright, undeniable laughter, echoing a joy she felt all the way to her soul.
And then you left. Her brows furrowed then, not because it was an accusation, but because her action had caused him pain. She'd known, though, that had she stayed and pursued him, he wouldn't have been ready for this moment - no, he'd needed that time for his heart to find it's own beat again. And though there was a moment of doubt just in the middle, when he told her that he'd given his heart away but before he revealed that it wasn't to be, when she thought he might be telling her that she'd missed her chance, she ignored the ridiculous twinge in favor of the love she saw in his gaze, the touch of his hands against her arms, the very fact that he was unburdening himself to her. And the rest of his words only served to prove that love.
She felt not the slightest touch of jealousy that he'd loved others in her absence. It had brought him joy, for all that it seemed in the end it brought him sorrow, and he'd learned how to give his heart again. Had he not given it to these women, whoever they were, he wouldn't have now known how much he needed her, would not have truly understood what he was asking. Her hands slid down to rest against the hard muscles of his chest just as his own tangled in her hair.
When he took her face between his hands, she trembled a little and halted her shuffling steps. Jewel-bright eyes widened, pupils dilated as if desperate to see every detail of his face, that gorgeous smile. Some small part of her brain whispered to her that she would remember this moment for all her life, and she didn't bother to argue. All she could do for a moment was stare up at him, and though a few moments' silence stretched on there was no hint of indecision anywhere on her face - she simply needed to remember how to move her tongue to form the words that would express what already lay in her eyes.
"The gods made me for you," she whispered, something profound and holy in that utterance. It was as if her whole life until this moment had been leading her to Vanator, to find him and open his heart and then leave him to let it blossom. And now that she loved him, she knew that she couldn't possibly live without him - and in that moment, she felt nothing but sympathy for the poor women who he'd given his heart to, for it was not an easy thing to be loved by this man. Kashik knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if she ever lost him she would never recover, and she sincerely hoped that those others who'd loved him would not suffer the same fate. If she could, she would help them - not for herself, but because Vanator loved them, and she could not but love what he loved. Didn't even know them, but she would count them friends if for nothing else than for playing their part in helping his heart to heal.
"Yes," she finally breathed, a smile bursting across her lips. And then it twisted into something more wry and playful, achingly familiar to this man who'd first seen it as she laughed and spun in the torrential spring rains. One of her hands curled into a fist and she lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Gods, I thought you'd never get around to asking," she said, laughter threading her voice until it spilled out and washed over him, bright, undeniable laughter, echoing a joy she felt all the way to her soul.