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Moze didn’t like to speak. He remained silent, barely talked, barely even made a sound as he fulfilled his duties and acted as General Feixiao’s most capable Shadow Guard.
Even so, you’ve seen the thoughts behind his eyes, you’ve seen how much he had to say but kept to staying silent as he believed most could be conveyed with a look, with gestures and body language that did not require him to speak.
Few have heard his voice before, he only talked when his general spoke to him or when he deemed it absolutely necessary.
Sometimes, his silence made you doubtful of his thoughts and intentions, you always had to fight the urge to take a step back when he approached you. For whenever he chose to appear he did not differentiate between work and leisure time.
He moved among the shadows like they were a part of him, merging with the darkness of the night and the pitch black obscurity of labyrinthine alleyways.
When he appeared, gave people a chance to glimpse at purple eyes and sharp facial features concealed by a hood, and only his blade to catch the reflection of the moonlight, it was too late for it was the last thing they would see.
To this day, each time the shadows took shape before you it made your heart skip a beat despite how the nature of these scarce encounters has changed over time.
He always revealed his presence when you were alone, walking in the pale moonlight and only the distant city lights casting a gentle orange hue on your surroundings.
The silence has become a part of your meetings. While uncomfortable and awkward in the beginning, although in one of the few instances he spoke he told you why he so rarely used his voice, over time you came to enjoy these quiet moments.
You and him standing on a higher place on the Yaoqing, overlooking the busy streets in the evening, with the buzz of the crowds below and the rustling of the leaves in the wind filling your ears. He stood beside you, his gaze taking in all the sights, always observing, always watchful, a habit he probably would never be able to cast aside.
And yet, whenever you talked he listened. His eyes turned to you, all of his attention belonged to you. He didn’t mind if you talked, spoke and rambled about random things, ranting about your troubles and worries. When the topic became too serious he did speak to you, reassuring you or offering words of comfort and advice before letting silence rule over both of you again.
And sometimes, you couldn’t deny how cozy it was standing next to him, leaning on the railing, enjoying the warm breeze on your face. The distance between you was almost non-existent then. Arms brushed, legs touched, robes nudged the other as the fabric swayed in the wind…
But despite the cry of your heart, you never dared to reach out to him to make these moments last longer. You wanted to reach for his hand when he placed it on the stone railing, wanted to trace the prominent scar on his forearm, yearned to take off his hood to catch a glimpse of his face, unconcealed beneath the silver moon…
These moment made you remember that despite his arrival, born out of shadows and feathers, with him around you couldn’t be in a safer place.
But today… Today felt different. As if the very air surrounding him was replaced by something adamant, an intention that left no room for second thoughts.
He stood before you, his gaze stern, his eyes boring into yours from beneath his hood, his jaw tense.
And for the first time in a very long time you took a step back as he began to approach you.
Your back hit the wall of the building behind you almost immediately and when you averted your gaze as if to look for a way to run, his posture relaxed the slightest bit. Yet, he did not say a word, he did not stop approaching you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing, your heart pounding in your chest.
Whatever his intentions were, he was resolute, his steps didn’t falter, even if his shoulders relaxed, taking some of the edge off of him. And when he was a mere arm-length away, when you met his purple eyes, clouded by his hood, it stole your breath away.
You weren’t convinced it was entirely because of his unusual demeanor.
You opened your mouth to say something but the words never reached your tongue as he placed a gloved finger over your lips, silencing you. Words evaded you, your mind wiped blank while a thunderstorm raged inside your chest.
His finger left a tingling sensation on your lips when he pulled back, yet you didn’t dare to say anything, let alone move. Something about this encounter was very different than before and whatever it was, you didn’t want to break the tension around you.
Moze reached up and pulled back his hood, allowing you a clear view of silver hair, the tips glowing in the pale moonlight, his gorgeous purple eyes, bright and burning now that they weren’t clouded by the shadows of his hood…
You inhaled sharply, warmth rising to your cheeks, but you couldn’t look away, didn’t dare to break his gaze. This was new. He never took off his hood, never revealed his face completely while outside, even when concealed by the protective darkness of the night.
The next moments passed you by in a blur and yet, you became acutely aware of every detail. Deep and dark purple colors so very close to you, a whiff of freshly washed clothes, cool metal and leather on your cheeks…
Moze cupped your cheeks, his covered fingertips diving into your hair, it all happened too quickly for you to comprehend what was happening, before he tilted your face up and pulled you close.
And then, his lips were on yours.
Surreal and incredible as his lips molded against yours as if they were meant to be there, igniting sensations within you you didn’t think possible. Your eyes fell shut as sparks of electricity made your body come alive. His hands splayed behind your ears, in your hair, cradling you and yet barely concealing the desperation, the need to be close to you.
It made you sigh into the kiss, your hands grabbing his jacket to ground yourself, to keep him close.
You didn’t know what brought this on, what made him to find you here only to kiss you as if it was his most important mission, but you couldn’t linger on it. A fog shrouded your mind, every thought got lost in its depths.
Moze didn’t like to speak, but oh, did you hear all he did not choose to convey through words.
You heard it all. The soft intakes of breath, the small sounds he tried to hide by pushing his lips just a bit harder against your own, and when you placed your hands on his chest you could hear the pounding of his heart over the thin fabric of his shirt as if your fingers became extensions of your ears.
Every part of you craved to hear and commit it all to memory.
When he pulled back you chased the contact, the sudden cold and emptiness drawing a sigh from your lips, desperate and yet, full of longing.
He spoke your name and it made your heart burst with too many emotions you didn’t know your heart and soul were capable of.
A gentle whisper, so quiet and beautiful, it felt like the breeze of a warm summer’s night on your skin.
Before you could ask him, plead for him, to say it again, his gloved hands cupped your face again and pulled you close, drowning his words in the feel of his lips on your own once more.