someone hold me, i'm done with this game

[irritating]

[ It's been a long time since she was home. Too long, much too long - but she's here now, and there's only one person on her mind. So she goes to her ship and finds him, ready to shriek excitedly when she sees him - but when she throws open that door she finds him sleeping, and suddenly she's so overcome that instead, she just... stands there, for a moment.

She's wordless, but the way her smile lights up her face is warm and genuine.

Quietly she pads across the room, until finally she's crawling onto the bed beside him. Briefly she considers letting him sleep, so when she reaches out to push some of his hair out of his face, it's with gentle fingers. But she's much too excited to leave him as is, so she begins to nudge and poke at him instead, just about climbing over him as she snuggles him with that characteristic aggressive affection of hers, purring as she nuzzles against his cheek. Even the scratch of his beard against her face is a comfort she's missed so horribly. ]

Mala, Malakai, wake up. [ Sounding almost desperate to get him to wake up now that she's started, she nuzzles harder and places kisses all over his face. ] Mala, I love you. Wake up, love, I'm home an' I missed you. [ She gives him a little push. ] An' you need to get up an' kiss me.

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[assenting]

[If it's been a long time for her, it's been longer for him, or felt it, at least. It's been the not knowing that's been bothering him more than anything, the mild concern over her leaving without saying a damn thing worsening to worry when he can't track her down, not on his own, not with outside help, then the panic that something's gone wrong. More than wrong. That something's gone sideways in such a spectacular way he'll never recover.

He's never suspected she left him, not like that. But he's stooped to spending more than a night or two drunk and trying to reconcile with what life without her might be like.

And it's been enough nights like that that when he half-wakes with the familiar tread of her foot on the floor, when he feels the familiar pattern of the press of her knees and hands on the bed, when he feels the familiar softness of her face, the scent of her hair, her warm breath - he thinks it's a dream. He thinks it's a dream and he closes his eyes harder, he refuses to wake because then he'll have to go back to worrying and wondering. It's the persistence that gets his attention, in the end, because the dreams are fleeting and she's not, she's pushy, she burns like fire, and so he opens his eyes, just a flicker of dark eyes under dark lashes, and she's there. She's really there, real and solid and asking for kisses.

His arms come up around her before he says anything, and he's rolling her over onto the bed, his breath fast, suddenly, fast and hard, and he's ducking his head to kiss her, rough and open-mouthed and demanding. Needy. It's only when he pulls up that he speaks, voice throaty.]

Firebird. You've come home.

[irritating]

[ Thinking that she's left worry and doubt in the wake of her unwilling disappearance has been something that's lingered constantly in her mind while she was away. She knows her husband well enough to know that he wouldn't think badly of her, that he wouldn't assume or accept the untrue notion that she had willing left him like that - but that doesn't erase the terrible sinking feeling of guilt that drags her down every time she thinks of what she must be putting him through.

But she puts all of that aside when those familiar dark eyes open for her. Malakai is awake and pulling her into his arms, and that's what matters right now.

When her mouth meets his, it's with the same energy - rough, demanding, needy, desperate. There's the slightest tremble in her hands when she reaches for him too, even as she latches onto him like she never, ever wants to let go again. She kisses him like her life hinges on it, pouring all of her love into it, hungry for his taste, his scent, and god, even the way his beard feels underneath her fingertips as she cups his face and goes with him when he rolls her over is a certain kind of comfort that floods her with emotion in an instant. ]

I have. [ Her voice is a whisper when she speaks, breathless and raw. And when she realizes the implications of what he's said - that time had not stopped like she had hoped, that she really had put him through a hell - she's all kisses, and it works to keep her from tears. ] Sorry, I'm sorry, [ Her apologies come between those kisses, her lips still touching his as she breathes out what she wants to say. ] I love you, Mala, I've missed you, an' I'm sorry, I didn't-- I didn't mean to do that, not to you. Not ever.

[assenting]

[There'll be time to be angry later - maybe not at her, but at whoever took her, and once he hears the story, at a whole lot more than that - for now, he doesn't have it in him. His joy at her return is too all-encompassing, it swallows him up as he rolls her under his body, as if he could keep her safe, as if the sheer weight of himself could hold her down, keep her from being taken from him again, under him and with her words coming breathless. She sounds vulnerable, and he's cheered and frightened by it all at once, but she's alive and she's in one piece and she's with him so whatever it is that makes her vulnerable can be tackled.

If they're together, nothing can be completely broken, no matter how afraid he was that she'd gone away, like Molly, not because she wanted to but because she couldn't help it. Losing her...losing Apollo, his firebird, his phoenix, that would be worse than what he's already endured. He's already loved her too long to take another chance.]

Oh, bird.

[His voice is soft, rough, there's a growl to it that's less anger than the threat of tears that he won't let fall, not right now.]

I love you too.

[Words are difficult, it's hard to articulate when his relief and fear and anger and joy are too strong to quantify. So he just kisses her again, tilting his head, burying his face into the crook of her neck, and it's only there that he finds the words to express at least one sentiment.]

Don't go again.

[irritating]

[ When he rolls her onto her back like that, keeping her tucked in close, Apollo does feel safe. To her, being in his arms and having him in hers - that's the safest place there is, so she keeps him close to her too by wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. Here, it doesn't matter if she's vulnerable or not, if she's capable of taking care of herself or not. It just matters that she's here at all.

She makes a noise when he tells her he loves her, something between a sigh and a breath of laughter. It feels good to hear his voice, and it feels even better to hear those words in it.

Smiling, Apollo's eyes slip closed when Malakai buries his face into the crook of her neck, shifting her head so that she may place gentle kisses to the side of his. With her left hand she threads her fingers through the waves of his dark hair, affectionate and loving with every touch and noise she gives and makes. ]

I don't want to. [ Gods know she doesn't. ] Wasn't my choice, I just-- I dunno, one day I woke up an' I was somewhere else, another world, which coulda been a lot more fun with you. [ It isn't said in a way at all meant to make him feel guilty. It's just her, talking away and making her thoughts verbal, genuinely believing in what she's saying. But again, her voice falls back into a whisper as she juggles the flurry of emotions she's feeling right now. ] Some people didn't think anyone'd go home. I'm glad they were fuckin' wrong.