Meredith had always known about magic. Her family was magic, one of the most powerful mage lines out there. Having lost her parents to all the fighting though, she stayed far away from it, focusing on school and lading a primarily normal life.
Unti...
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Rush set her down and it was on a bed, thank god, but it was a little too familiar. As she let herself sink into the familiar softness of maroon comforters, she glanced around the room. It looked the same as when she'd left it, before it had exploded.
"Did we time travel?" Mer asked in jest.
"Meredith, such things are purely fiction." As usual, Rush didn't get it, and she chuckled. Even that rocked pain through her chest ,and wheezing, she fell onto the bed with a whine. Existence hurt.
It didn't take Rush long to come and sit by her side on the bed. The man was staying away from her though, and she frowned at his distance. Reaching like the horrible spoiled property she was, she groaned as Rush noticed her outstretched hands but remained where he was, out of reach.
"Did you bore of me?" he asked. It was a strange question, considering her state. Like she'd had time to get bored of him. Between watching him get skewered and fearing he'd died, to being pressed against Damien's ravenous hunger and then fighting for her life, she wasn't sure which could actually be classified as boring.
Still, Rush looked downtrodden. The man, even though he feared her, had always been within inches of her in a dangerously forward way. The only time he hadn't been, was when he'd expected her to blow up his limbs. Right now though, certainly he could feel that she had no magic to harm him with, and it wasn't like they hadn't laid naked together for an extended period of time.
"Did I do something wrong?" Mer asked, her arms falling onto the bed limp.
The last she'd seen of him, he'd been bleeding on the ground and begging her to run. All she wanted was to hold him and know that he was alive and real, but he was so far away. Rush didn't answer her, and she grumbled in annoyance.
"I didn't bore of you, Rush. I was worried sick about you, but also fighting for my life the whole time. It didn't give me idle time to reconsider our relationship, if that's what you're worried about."
Why would he be worried about her attachment to him anyway? From what she'd gathered, while he was warming to her, it wasn't as if he was so attached to her that he couldn't bear to be without her–like she was, now, desperately wanting to feel his cool skin against her face.
"You liked it when he kissed you," Rush said, his expression so placid it was clear he was suppressing his emotional reaction.
"Kissed me?" Mer actually had to figure out what Rush was talking about.
It took her a moment with her throbbing migraine to remember Damien kissing her on the forehead and rubbing his face against hers. At the time, she had been ecstatic that her father was alive. Happy to be alive as well, she'd loved the cool mellow vibration of the dark energy against her skin.
"Are you jealous?" Mer asked incredulously as she lay on the bed, barely able to move.
"Please, I don't feel such emotions. I just wanted to know if you had bored of your fascination with me." Rush snapped it out like a grade-schooler accused of liking girls.
