ten_of_swords | (no subject)

(no subject)

The door to the bar closes behind them.

Ruin wraps his arms around Miniver's waist as they stand in the living room. It's tasteful -- furniture carefully chosen, colours ideal, and outside the massive, clear windows roars the green-blue ocean.

He nuzzles Miniver's neck, smiling wickedly against his skin, and murmurs, "Welcome home, darling."

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"I remember," she says, the rage vanishing behind an impassive mask.

"I know what I was to you then. Foolish me for hoping that I meant more now."

Ruin meets Mary Anne's eyes without any trouble.

"I love you."

Simple as that.

"I love you, too."

No hesitation.

"But I hate it when you make it hard."

"Did you not know it wouldn't be easy?" he asks her blandly. "It can't be a surprise for you, Legs."

She purses her lips, eyes narrowed.

"I've never had any illusions about this being easy, lover, but sometimes it feels like you're trying to make it difficult."

Maybe he was.

If he was difficult enough, maybe she would leave.

And he would never have to see those two girls she met in the bar.

As these thoughts bubble from somewhere in him, he looks away from her.

For the first time since this conversation began, she's worried.

"What is it, Ciaran?"

He continues to stare at the pattern on the carpet, because it's so interesting.

"Doesn't it scare you?" he finally says. "This... playing house?"

She opens her mouth and closes it once, before murmuring,

"I didn't realize we were playing."

He looks up, his face a little ashen.

"It's better if we're playing at it," he says quietly. "Cause I can't really ruin play. But I can ruin something real."

"Not this you can't."

She crosses the room, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"This is ours, and yes, it's real. But you can't ruin this all by yourself. And I'm still willing to fight for it."

He smirks.

"You're just willing to fight."

She bites back a smile.

"Maybe that, too."

His hands go around her waist and he pulls her against him.

"So... I'm not allowed to use our house or my ring as a prop?" he asks.

She shakes her head.

"If you want to use a house or a ring, I can't stop you, but I'll be damned if you use ours."

It sounds almost silly as she says it, but she plows on. "This is...It's our place away from everything. I don't want you dragging...the job back in here. I won't either. And the ring...that's ours, too. It's not a tool. Please."

He's quiet for a long time as he stares down at her, hands laced at the small of her back.

Mary Anne Bell.

Well, Mary Anne Bell-MacLaughlin, which was hell to spell out on a deed.

When had he decided that this was important? Marriage and home and love and... eventually... children? Because he'd done it once before, and that had been a mitigated disaster.

But when she said 'please'...

"All right," he nods, his voice quiet. "Not our home. Not our rings."

"Good."

She smiles, soft and slow.

"Thank you."

He dips his head and kisses her gently, hugging her to him.

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"So," she whispers against his mouth, "we okay?"

"I think that's up to you to say," he murmurs, looking at her from under his lashes.

She's quiet for a moment before answering.

"Then I say we're okay."

He slowly smirks.

"Okay enough for me to take liberties with your person?" he teases.

"Hmmm."

She tilts her head.

"Okay enough for you to try and we'll see how it goes."

Ruin chuckles and dips his head to her neck as he slowly backs her towards the bed.

"So I shall," he purrs.

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