𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒔.
Maev Barebone never meant to get entangled with humans and their (seemingly) silly fights, but when her neighbor-turned-friend in Bucharest is arrested for a crime he didn't comm...
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AS THE DAYS past the air grew warmer and the two started spending the afternoon resting the hut to escape the heat, sharing bits and pieces of themselves as conversation flowed smoothly. James learned that Maev loved wildflowers and that muted yellow was her favorite color, her least favorite color being red.
She'd given him a glossed over story of the events that had occurred while he was under, before assuring him she was doing better, but every now and then a darkness would edge into her eyes when she got too quiet. It was moments like these that he offered her silent support, whether it be sitting next to her or brushing his fingers lightly along her spine or something in between.
James knew all too well what it was like to become someone you hated, and even with Maev and Shuri's combined efforts, some of his memories still eluded him.
Their mornings were spent gardening and some form of exercise, generally running and workouts that Maev modified to his needs. While they may be getting used to their new mundane lifestyle the two had spent too long living face paced lives to just walk around all day, and there was comfort in the routine the two had created, a luxury neither had had before.
And at night they wandered the grassy plains bordering the small village, the moon and its stars overhead their only company as the cool wind brushed their intertwined hands. It was here that silence tended to reign supreme, the two dividing their time between gazing at the empyrean constellations and learning every curve and line of the other.
One night as they laid on the grass, Maev rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbows. James watched as she ran a careful finger down his shoulder, tracing the black fabric encasing the stump that was once his metal arm.
"Shuri said you didn't have to wear this anymore." Her words were soft and no judgment was present, just simple curiosity visible in her dark eyes.
"I don't like to see them."
"Your scars?" She asked, and when he nodded, she pushed herself up, offering her hand to him. Once they were both standing Maev took a step back, reaching down to grab the sides of her shirt. With one swift movement, she removed the flowing fabric, letting it fall to the ground. Moonlight illuminated her olive skin and James stared at her, the silvery light making the scars littering her torso prominent.
"Scars are nothing to be ashamed of," Maev told him, twisting her arms so her forearms were bared, one covered in their Ranju marking, the other baring a single line, "they show that you're a survivor."
She dropped her hands and waited for him to say something, James shifting forward. He reached out but paused, his fingers hovering above her skin, his eyebrows furrowed. He slowly traced the largest scar on her torso, the jagged line running along her the bottom of her left ribs and cutting across her stomach, before ending at her right hip.
