Private Alkaline

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: The Big Dee'ja Peak
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian had not had a good nights sleep in weeks, but his exhaustion had started long before that. It lay in the subtle slump of his shoulders, in the dull ache behind his eyes, and in the way even his fierce smile felt too heavy to raise. The starship hummed around him, a low, constant sound as it cut through hyperspace toward Naboo, back from helping refugees on Ukatis. He was heading toward her, but even that simple comfort struggled to break through the haze.

He reclined in a chair, boots kicked out, head tipped back as the holo-feed crackled to life. There she appeared... Sibylla, framed in soft blues and gold light, her expression a mix of amusement and worry.

"By all the stars," Aurelian groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. "Sib, you have no idea what kind of week I've had."

She arched a brow, which he took as full permission to begin. "The Galactic Alliance is dissolving," he started, gesturing broadly, "which apparently means I'm the one who must soothe every panicking bureaucrat. Refugees are flooding from every border system, Ukatis is still burning itself back into shape, and my sister has decided to haunt me like a vengeful spirit in Parrlay."

He didn't stop. He couldn't. "And my houses business interests? Tanking. And do not get me started on that pathetic Senator from Malastare who keeps insisting I hold 'too much consolidated influence,' as if I asked to pick up the Chancellor's duties when everyone else scattered like frightened birds."

His voice cracked, just lightly, just enough that Sibylla softened. Aurelian's jaw clenched, the angles of his face tightening. He looked carved from fatigue and stubborn fire. His dark, tousled hair fell messily across his forehead. His eyes were the worst giveaway: tired gold dimmed by responsibility, by too many worlds pressing in at once.

"Far gone," he murmured, "are the days when all I wanted was to be the king Naboo deserved." A humorless note curled in his throat. "Now I'm apparently the leader of the Republic… and they hate me for stepping up."

Silence stretched. He let out a long, slow breath as if leaking out the last of his fury. His gaze lifted to hers again. "I'm complaining too much." He scrubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. "I'm sorry. I miss you."

Her smile, small and warm, undid something in him. "I'll be there shortly," he promised. He ended the call before he could linger and grow pathetic.

The landing sequence began, the ship banking low over Naboo's rolling mist and glimmering lakes. Dee'ja Peak rose in the distance, mountains crowned with morning light, waterfalls threading down their sides. Near the Abrantes estate, terraces carved from marble steps caught the glow like mirrors.

Aurelian stood, catching his reflection in the polished metal paneling. He paused, then stepped closer. His hair definitely needed fixing. He pushed it back, then immediately regretted it and let it fall in that artful, wicked disarray Sibylla always accused him of cultivating. He straightened his collar next and tried to smooth the shadows under his eyes with sheer willpower.

He wanted to look good for her. Not as the Chancellor-by-accident, not as a tired knight of Naboo burdened by galaxies. Just… her Aurelian.

The starship touched down on a mountain platform, repulsors sighing. The ramp lowered with a hiss of cool alpine air. He swallowed, nerves pricking his spine. This was her home. Her people. The legacy she came from.

Would they accept him? Would they see who he was in the past? He didn't know. But he knew he wanted to try.

He descended the ramp.

Then he saw her. Sibylla stood framed by the morning light, her eyes bright as the lakes below, her expression soft in that rare way she saved only for him.

Every worry in him; Malastare, Parrlay, Ukatis, the collapsing Alliance, the weight of a galaxy tearing at his spine, evaporated like mist in sunlight. His smile returned at last, slow and genuine. Aurelian breathed. She was enough to bring him home.

In that moment, right there at the foot of the ramp, he remembered why he carried all that weight in the first place. He remembered why he fought and kept stepping forward even when it broke him. For her. For them. For what they might yet build.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You look terrible. Handsome, but Terrible.
Aurelian Veruna

He looked utterly exhausted.

That was the first thing Sibylla thought to herself as the holofeed blinked out. Exhausted and weighed down by burdens he carried alone. She saw it in his eyes, how their amber light had dulled under the weight of a responsibility no one else had stepped up to take, yet everyone still rebuked him for shouldering.

It made her angry. Upset, annoyed, concerned, and worried all at once. Part of her was glad Aurelian would arrive soon, not only because she missed him dearly, but because she wanted to see him breathe again. To hold him. Even if only long enough for him to lean into her so she could gently cafuné her fingers through his hair and let him rest.

Yet another part of her knew coming to Dee'ja Peak was simply another stressor, filling him with nerves and likely a few self doubts, the kind that tugged him toward spiraling into believing he wasn't worthy, when he utterly was.

It only confirmed what they had spoken of on Zeltros -- that they needed a place of their own. Somewhere they could find sanctuary without the eyes of the galaxy. The memory of the yacht and the not-so-joking quip Aurelian made about investing in a yacht drifted through her mind. After seeing him on the holocall, Sibylla half wished they had diverted for a few days at sea just to let him rest before coming here.

But even Tona's or Corde's brilliance with scheduling could not carve out more time, not when her family's commitments had aligned to create this one rare evening where everyone would be home. Lord Abrantes would arrive later that afternoon after meeting Senator Sarn, while her mother was en route after collecting Elian from the Academy. Sibylla's mother had inferred she would be having her own conversation with her youngest brother, and she wondered whether their mother had already caught wind of his recent activities. That ride back from the Academy was sure to be an interesting one.

Cassian would join them shortly, which meant that aside from retainers, guards, and Caleb, Sibylla would have Aurelian to herself for a few hours before the others arrived.

Perhaps just enough time for him to rest, have a drink, unwind a little before the delightful madness that was her family descended.

Maybe that was why she had fretted so much over the menu, the settings, the guest bedroom just in case, and especially the hour spent deciding what dress to wear and how to style her hair. She had settled on a white dress and left her hair loose without any adornment. Simple. Classy... and hopefully didn't shout that she had tried on a dozen or so before settling.

But none of it mattered. Not the time she spent fussing, nor Caleb's amused assurances that everything was ready. Certainly not the way the elder butler's heavy brows had lifted when she referred to Aurelian by his given name rather than his title.

She couldn't hide it well... and perhaps that was for the best.

For as soon as the ship ramp lowered and Aurelian appeared -- exhausted beyond belief, hair tousled from restless fingers, wearing that slow unfurling smile that transformed his entire face, there was no stopping her. His eyes warmed again, amber depths sparking back to life like embers coaxed into flame.

Whatever propriety the Abrantes estate upheld was forgotten as Sibylla stepped forward, then broke into a run, her smile radiant as she looped her arms around him and held him tightly. She didn't care that the guards or Caleb stood witness.

"I missed you."

Breathing him in, Sibylla tipped her head back to meet his gaze, her smile deepening with affection, concern, and a soft laugh.

"You look terrible. Handsome, but terrible", she teased, giving a quiet huff.

"But truly... You look as though rest would do you far more good than socializing. Are you sure you want to step into the madness that is my family today?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I'm exactly where I want to be.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian didn't stand a chance.

The moment Sibylla broke into a run, all the weight he'd dragged across systems loosened its grip on him. His breath hitched once, sharply, before instinct took over. He stepped forward, caught her cleanly in his arms, and lifted her with a laugh that sounded too alive for a man who hadn't slept in days. The world tilted as he spun her, cold mountain air rushing around them, her hair brushing against his cheek like something he'd been craving without knowing it.

When he set her back on her feet, she remained in his arms, close enough for the rest of the galaxy to fall away without effort. Her teasing softened the laugh at his lips. He reached up, thumb brushing along the line of her jaw before tilting her chin. It was gentle, reverent, in a way he'd never let anyone else see. He kissed her, slow and grateful, the kind of kiss that spoke of crossing half a system for this exact moment.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against her mouth. "Entirely unfair, actually."

She smiled, and something in his chest finally unclenched.

"The madness?" he huffed, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. "I'm ready. I've been looking forward to seeing you here. Your home, your people." His gaze dipped over her dress, then back to her eyes, warmth kindling again. "You're radiant, Sib."

He exhaled, letting his forehead rest briefly against hers. "Cassian, I could live without. But Elian?" Aurelian's mouth curved into a wicked grin. "He'll provide enough chaos to keep me entertained. Or distracted. Preferably both."

Then he shook his head, smaller, quieter, honest. "None of it matters, not really." His fingers slid down to lace with hers. "I get to see you. And for the first time in weeks, everything feels… manageable. All those other problems?" He shrugged lightly. "They don't stand a chance against this."

Against her.

His smile softened, stripped of the danger and the swagger he wore for everyone else.

"Lead the way, I'm exactly where I want to be."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: What would you like to do?
Aurelian Veruna

It felt so good to be in his arms again.

A silly, indulgent thought perhaps, but Sibylla didn't care, not with the incandescent smile brightening her face and the laugh that echoed down the landing path and up the garden as he spun her.

Giddy. That was the word. He made her feel utterly, wonderfully giddy.

She laughed again, the flush from his compliment warming her in a way that made every moment of preparation suddenly worthwhile.

"Mmm.. well, do not say I failed to warn you," she said lightly, leaning back to look at him even as the warmth of his lips lingered by hers with his kiss. His wicked smile only grew when she threaded her fingers through his unruly curls.

Truly, she could not keep her hands off him.

A politely timed clearing of a throat behind them reminded Sibylla, however, that they were not alone.

Caleb stood at a respectful distance, ice blue eyes composed and professional, though unmistakably amused. The guards were no different, and while they had seen the Abrantes siblings act out on one occasion or more, this was the first time they'd seen Sibylla act in such a fashion. It was enough to spark more than one set of curious eyes, but they were set on remaining professional. Not a single word of this would leak out of the Abrantes Estate.

"Right. Forgive me. Proper introductions are in order," Sibylla murmured, her cheeks blooming a very telling shade of pink.

"Aurelian, this is Caleb Irons, our Head Butler and my father's most trusted assistant. Though between us, he has long since become more family than staff," she added with a fond, conspiratorial lilt, the tone of someone quite determined to set expectations herself.

"I welcome you, Chancellor Veruna, to the Abrantes Estate," Caleb said with a dignified bow, decorum unshaken.

"I have prepared a room for you should you wish to refresh yourself or rest."

Sibylla, already looping her arm through Aurelian's, seemed prepared to whisk him away herself.

"I shall take him there if needed, Caleb," she assured quickly, then turned toward Aurelian with bright earnest concern.

"Now tell me are you hungry, or would rest tempt you more? I promise neither option will offend me, though I might be pleased if you pretend to choose wisely," she teased him, happy to just spend time with him before her family arrived, but knew well that rest could be temptation enough.

"Or I may offer you a third option of the piano room. I have it on firm account that there is a comfortable couch one could sleep upon, and we can call for refreshments and light fare as well."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I want to see you in your element
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian straightened the moment he realized they had an audience. His shoulders drew back, and his posture aligned with the easy precision of someone raised in courtrooms and council chambers. Still, the faint pink warming Sibylla's cheeks made it impossible for him to regret a single second of the spectacle they'd just given the estate staff.

He inclined his head toward Caleb, offering the man a respectful greeting entirely without his usual sharp edges. "Master Irons," he said, voice smooth but sincere, "the honor is mine. Thank you for receiving me, and for looking after Sibylla and her family with such care." This wasn't flattery. It was deliberate, necessary acknowledgment.

Aurelian let Sibylla loop her arm through his again, an instinctive shift drawing him closer to her side. Her question hung between them, asking whether he needed rest, food, or simply a moment to retreat. He could feel her earnestness in the way her hand tightened around his. He thought about it, briefly. He was tired and worn thin, and the idea of a soft bed certainly had its temptations. But he had just crossed an entire system to reach her. Wasting even a sliver of his time here on sleep felt like sacrilege.

His choice was easy. "I want to hear you play," he murmured, his voice dipping low enough that only she would truly feel the intimacy of it. "Show me where you practiced all those years. Where Sibylla Abrantes learned to make the galaxy hold its breath." His grin tilted, dangerous, warm, and unmistakably hers. "Besides… if I pass out anywhere, I'd rather it be listening to you."

He brushed his thumb along the back of her hand, stealing one more moment before he let her guide him inside. "Lead me to your piano room, Sib. I want to see you in your element." Then, just as they stepped toward the estate doors, he leaned closer, murmuring with that teasing edge she knew too well: "And if that couch is as comfortable as you claim, I may require a full demonstration of its merits later."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: You are utterly incorrigible, and you know it
Aurelian Veruna

Oh Shiraya. Caleb didn't hear that, did he?

Sibylla refused to look back and confirm it. Absolutely not. Self-preservation demanded she keep her gaze fixed forward, chin lifted with what dignity she could salvage. Instead she tightened her arm around Aurelian's and gave him the most pointed, admonishing tug she could manage as if that would curb that audacious tongue of his.

Of course it didn't. His low, deliciously amused rumble followed her like a warm draft, rolling down her spine and blooming heat across her cheeks. The tips of her ears burned. Wonderful. Now she would never be able to step foot into her piano room again without remembering his insinuation.

And he knew it.

"You are utterly incorrigible, and you know it," she whispered sharply, leaning closer so only he could hear the reprimand. The soft scent of citrus and waterlilies drifted around him as her words brushed his jaw. She tried for severity. She failed spectacularly. Her eyes sparkled with mirth, giving her away entirely.

And Shiraya help her, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Because beneath the teasing, beneath the embarrassment and flustered delight, she could feel it -- the tension that clung to him, worn into his shoulders, his breath, the small lines etched at the corner of his eyes. He was trying, as he had promised he would. But she could see the exhaustion he carried, could sense it as clearly as if it weighed her own limbs.

If she could ease even a fraction of it before he faced her family, she would. Happily.

The piano room was half an excuse, half a sanctuary; a quiet place where he could sit, lie down if he wished, or simply breathe without the universe demanding anything of him. With Caleb trailing behind smiling his knowing little smile before departing to check on ordering a lighter fair to the pinao room, Sibylla led Aurelian up the white-marbled path toward the heart of the estate.

Light filtered through carved stone arches laced with wisteria and climbing vines. Compared to the storm-tossed asture and powerful grandeur of the Rainspire, the Abrantes Estate was a warm embrace built into the mountain itself, with waterfalls threading around terraces, clear pools catching the early sun, balconies opening to sweeping alpine valleys and lakes. Light and nature intertwined, every corner made to invite rather than impress.

"Welcome to my home," Sibylla murmured, the words soft but shining with sincerity as she glanced up at him, searching his expression. It was his first time here. She wanted him to like it. To feel welcome. To feel comfortable and relaxed.

They crossed the airy atrium where staff offered quiet good mornings, soft and unobtrusive. Sunlight spilled like liquid gold through tall, arched windows, illuminating carved wood, mountain stone, and gentle cascades of ivy. It was elegant, airy, and serene, with every surface singing in harmony with the surrounding cliffs.

"You have arrived just in time," Sibylla continued, warmth rising in her tone as her excitement took hold. "The leaves are beginning to blush crimson. In another week or so, every balcony will look as though the mountain caught fire. You will adore it, I promise. It is breathtaking when the sun hits the canopy just as it sets."

Oh Shiraya I'm rambling.

Another sign she was home, where all her perfect mask of composure softened and was now replaced by eager smiles, unguarded warmth, and the kind of gentle affection that lived only in the spaces she trusted. Spaces she now invited him into.

Sibylla slowed slightly, turning back toward him with that same quiet, fluttering hope stirring in her chest.

"Come," she said, her voice dipping into something both tender and teasing as she quickened her step. She turned toward him as she walked backward for a few paces, the silk of her dress fluttering about her slender legs as her fingers curled into his with a gentle, loving squeeze and a playful tug.

"The piano room is just ahead...and if you fall asleep while I play, I shall consider it the highest form of praise," she added with a playful lift of her chin, only for her tawny eyes to bloom with a spark of mischief. A smile curved into a wry, impish grin even as she moved to face forward once more, but not before one last murmured quip!

Even as she blushed right to her ears through it.

"And for the record, Aurelian...if you intend any demonstration of merits, I fear I may be tempted to provide feedback... in a very hands on manner."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Incorrigible? Me?
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian blinked with exaggerated innocence the moment she whispered that he was incorrigible. "Me?" he whispered back, pressing a hand to his chest as though wounded. "I've never uttered a single double meaning in my life."

The lie was criminal. His grin made it worse. He let her tug him along, his laughter softening into something warm and boyish as they walked beneath the stone arches. When he glanced back, Caleb was already disappearing down a side hall. Aurelian smirked.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about Good old Caleb Irons," he murmured. "I'm certain he's heard you and Cordé say far more inappropriate things about the devastatingly handsome Aurelian Veruna." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a wicked purr. "If these walls could talk…" He winked. Her scandalized flush was worth every sin.

As the path curved, leading them through gardens and sun-warmed stoneways, his irreverence gentled. Sibylla's excitement radiated through every step. He felt it in the coil of her fingers around his, in the way she slowed to show him details, and in the bright edge to her voice that only existed here. He wanted to match that softness. He wanted to honor it.

Aurelian slipped closer, letting their arms brush. "It's beautiful," he murmured, sincerity threading through every word. His gaze followed the cascade of vines, the light reflecting off the marble, the terraces opening to glittering lakes. "All of it... I can imagine you wandering these halls as a child." His smirk returned, gentle and teasing. "No doubt plotting trouble, scaring tutors, sneaking into places you shouldn't be."

She opened her mouth, offended, amused, probably both, but he squeezed her hand before she could defend her youthful honor. "And the mountain on fire... I want to see it." A rare vulnerability flickered through his expression. "If I'm fortunate enough to be invited back." Then, with a dramatic sigh: "Though I suppose I might be too incorrigible for such majesty."

She turned then, walking backward and beckoning him forward with that radiant smile, the silk of her dress catching the light. He followed without question or hesitation. There was nowhere else he would rather be. No war, no senate hall, no throne mattered half as much as the look she gave him now.

Then she said it. That line: "Hands-on feedback." Aurelian stopped dead in the hall and audibly gasped, scandal personified. "Sibylla Abrantes," he declared, his voice deep with mock outrage, "what has become of you? Speaking such things to an innocent man?"

Aurelian decided she had invited her own doom. In one smooth, lightning-fast motion, he swept her clean off her feet. Her gasp echoed through the corridor as he lifted her effortlessly, one arm under her knees, the other steady around her back. "Incorrigible," he repeated, carrying her toward the piano room as she clutched at his shoulders, half laughing, half furious, wholly delighted. "Look at you, corrupting a respectable visitor before he's even seated." He nudged the door open with his shoulder, stepping into the warm, sunlit space beyond.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Then I may as well claim my due.
Aurelian Veruna

"Aurelian!" Sibylla yelped out with a half gasp half laugh as he nudged on of the carved doors to the entrance of the piano room with a showman's confidence, sweeping Sibylla into the room.

Warm golden light poured through two-story arched windows, the entire circular chamber opening toward Dee'ja Peak's ridges and the distant silver fall of water. The domed ceiling arched high above them, soft curves catching the sun, while marble floors glowed beneath it all.

A crescent settee curved invitingly near a round wooden table stacked with lanterns and books. The grand piano waited in dignified shadow, its polished surface catching thin threads of light like it knew trouble had just arrived.

Sibylla clutched his shoulders, half gasp, half laugh. Really, he had some nerve to declare himself innocent and she the incorrigible one. Never mind what exactly these walls could say if they could talk!

"Aurelian Marcus Veruna -- honestly -- !" she repeated again, laughing in a way that made the sound echo in the acoustics of the room, but he only tightened his hold, smug and unrepentant, carrying her deeper into the room as if he fully intended to make the entire space theirs.

"Me? Corrupt a respectable visitor?" She scoffed, even as he kept striding forward. "As if. I have been the perfect picture of professionalism!"

Even then, her hazel eyes said otherwise, bright with amusement even as she guided his scruffy jaw toward her with a delicate hand.

He made her feel dizzy, ridiculously alive. With Aurelian, the universe always seemed to fall away until there was only the moment.

"But if I am already being judged for corrupting," she murmured, a wry grin curving her lips despite the blush, rising to the challenge in playful defiance as her fingers slid to the back of his neck and into the dark curls there, "then I may as well claim my due."

She brushed her nose along his chin, then his cheek, her breath warm against his lips before she drew him in and kissed him slow and deep. No audience. No expectations. Just them.

Shiraya, she had missed this man -- his audacity, his mischief, and the way he turned her entire world on its axis without even trying.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: So very unprofessional
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian huffed a low laugh against her mouth, the kiss stealing his breath and any illusion of composure he had left. She always did this, turning him molten and reckless, stupidly eager to chase whatever spark she set alight under his skin.

But he kept walking with her in his arms, because putting her down before he absolutely had to was unthinkable.

When she finally pulled away, breath warm against his jaw, he gave her the most devastatingly self-satisfied smile he owned. "Mm. Well," he murmured, voice low and sinful, "I'm not entirely convinced picture-perfect professionals go around kissing their guests the moment they reach the piano room." He let that hang for a beat before adding, with mock gravity, "But then again," he began walking, carrying her toward the windows as though she weighed nothing, "I did significantly worse when you visited my home."

He set her gently on her feet near the arched glass, the mountains behind her. The light caught the lines of her dress like she'd been carved to belong there. He brushed a stray curl from her cheek.

"Let's see," he mused. "Sparring with you AND kissing you in my home." He clicked his tongue. "Yes, far less professional on my part. So I suppose," he tipped her chin up with two fingers, "I'll allow this breach of decorum." His smirk sharpened. "Just this once."

Before she could retort, and he knew she would, he released her with a playful tug at her waist and crossed to the grand piano. Aurelian sat, exhaled, and pressed a single key. The note rang out, clean, bright, painfully nostalgic. Another key, and another. The sound echoed around the curved chamber, warm in the golden light.

"Hm," he smirked, looking down at the keys. "My tutors used to say I had promise." He played a short, clumsy scale. "I told them they were delusional."

He glanced over his shoulder, letting the light catch the sharp angle of his smile. "I never liked the piano. Hated the lessons, hated sitting still. Hated being forced to play proper little court pieces with proper little posture."

He let out another chord, lower and slower, almost thoughtful. "But," he continued, leaning his elbow casually on the keys, "if you had been teaching that class?" His eyes drifted over her, a slow, unhurried appraisal. "I might've paid attention. Maybe."

He tapped one key and then pointed it at her. "Or," he added, a grin spreading across his face, "more likely, I would have spent the entire time trying to make you laugh, and you would have been thrown out within twenty minutes."

He straightened, his fingers idly tracing a lazy, meandering melody across the keys. It was something half-remembered, sounding better than he expected. "Distracting," he declared, a teasing frown aimed directly at her. "That's what you would've been. Utterly, disastrously distracting."

He played two bright notes, like a punctuation mark. "Just like now." He patted the bench beside him without looking away. "Well?" His voice dipped, warm and taunting. "Are you going to come make a mockery of my childhood training? Or do I have to carry you again?" The challenge hung in the air, light, charged, and undeniably inviting.

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: File your complaint in triplicate!
Aurelian Veruna

There was a distinct, guilty pleasure in knowing she could make Aurelian laugh like that. A low, rich sound that always loosened something tight inside her chest. But seeing that wicked smile spread across his face, that slow, devastating, entirely too self-satisfied smile, Shiraya, that did something even more dangerous. It made her breath catch, and a warm, effervescent tingle drifted over her.

She shook her head at him, the soft waves of chestnut hair slipping forward to brush her shoulders and her cheeks yet her smile only widened.

"Well…If you intend to file an official complaint regarding my welcoming methods for a particular guest, please submit it in filmsi and in triplicate to Corde." She lifted her chin with mock authority, even as delight curved her mouth and her chin lifted in teasing defiance.

Sibylla's laughter softened into something warmer as he sat and played a few keys. Aurelian Veruna, smug and gorgeous and insufferably proud of himself, sitting at her piano as though he had every right in the galaxy to be there.

And perhaps he did. The sight was absurdly endearing.

But her teasing quieted as he touched the keys again, the notes echoing gently through the tall, domed chamber. That sound always reached her first…the warmth, the possibility, the way one single chord could feel like breathing after holding everything in for far too long.

She watched him for several slow seconds, the sunlight gilding his curls, the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his smile as he pretended to play poorly. Shiraya, she wanted to kiss him again for that alone.

Instead, she stepped toward him.

"I have noticed a distinct trend with your tales," she murmured as she slipped her arms lightly around him from behind, guiding his hands into proper position upon the keys. Her fingertips brushed over his, arranging each finger where it belonged.

She leaned in, her warmth and her lips brushing just close enough to make him still.

"For all your insistence that I breach decorum whenever I so much as look at you," she whispered, a playful curl tugged at the corner of her mouth. "it seems you are the one who cannot maintain your focus….makes one wonder how long has that been the case?"

Her cheek brushed his temple as she leaned in close, her breath grazing the shell of his ear.

"How utterly unprofessional of you, Aurelian. How ever will you get any work done if I keep your thoughts so hopelessly tangled?"

Her affectionate glance made the reprimand nothing of the sort, but it did bring to question another matter. One she would bring up later. Not now.

Not when today was just meant to spend time with him.

She drew her gaze to the keys then, her expression softening as her fingers descended to play a few guiding notes. The acoustics caught the sound, filling the sunlit chamber with gentle resonance.

"But the piano…" Sibylla's voice changed, deepening into something quieter and more vulnerable. "It has never been about impressing tutors or mastering court pieces."

Her fingers drifted into a slow chord progression, that was something warm and familiar.

"It was the only place I could let myself feel without risking a misstep. A place where I could speak without saying a word. Where I could be Sibylla, and not the perfect daughter of House Abrantes."

She paused, thumb brushing lightly along the side of his hand in a small instinctive gesture of affection.

"Whenever court demanded restraint, this was where I came to breathe. To be loud, or angry, or joyful, or uncertain. All the things I was not supposed to be."

A small laugh slipped from her, soft but sincere.

"Perhaps not unlike those clay figurines of yours," she teased gently, nudging his shoulder, "which you still have yet to show me, by the way."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Not Cordé!
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian let out a sharp bark of laughter the moment she invoked Cordé's name, an unguarded, delighted sound that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

"Submit a complaint to Cordé?" he repeated, appalled. "Shiraya's grace, absolutely not. I enjoy living. That woman could end me with a raised eyebrow." He shuddered dramatically. "No, no, you win. I'll suffer in silence."

Her arms slipped around him then, warm, steady, impossible to ignore, and suddenly suffering was the last thing he was capable of. She guided his hands into proper position, fingers aligning with hers. It could have been innocent. It wasn't. Her breath ghosted his ear, and his pulse misbehaved with humiliating enthusiasm.

"Focus was never my strength," he admitted. "Not unless I had to. Senators, courts, negotiations, I can sit still when the Naboo demands it." Her cheek brushed his temple. He stilled completely. "But ever since you started being… shall we say… far less professional with me," he murmured, his smile crooked and helpless, "I find myself daydreaming at work. A dangerous thing for a Chancellor."

He turned his head just enough that his words brushed her lips. "You might be the end of my career, Sibylla. And the worst part? I don't even mind."

Her fingers played a gentle pattern across the keys. The notes filled the room, warm, open, aching in the most honest way. Aurelian went quiet, truly quiet, as she spoke. He didn't interrupt or tease, and he didn't hide behind a grin. He just listened. This room was a place where she could breathe, feel, and not be held to perfection. His chest tightened with something sharp and protective.

When she nudged him about his "figurines," he huffed a laugh and let the tension ease. "They're not figurines," he corrected, elbow bumping hers. "They're bowls. Cups. Occasionally something that was meant to be a vase and lost the will to live halfway through." A sly smile curled at his mouth. "Next date, then. I'll show you. It keeps my hands busy, and strong." He eyed her just to make her roll her own eyes.

But the teasing faded as her earlier confession returned to him, settling deeper. He reached up, covering one of her hands with his, thumb brushing the delicate ridge of her knuckles. His voice dropped, quiet but unflinching. "I hate the thought of you growing up needing a room like this just to breathe."

His gaze slid to the keys, then to her reflection in the glossy surface. "I hate imagining you feeling alone in a house full of people. Or trapped by expectations that had nothing to do with who you are." He turned slightly, enough to catch her eyes over his shoulder. "I love…" A soft exhale. "I love the parts of you that aren't perfect. The pieces you weren't allowed to show. The ones only you know. That's who I crossed a system to see."

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips against her fingers, light, reverent, almost absentminded in its sincerity. "You don't have to be anyone's idea of perfect with me," he murmured. "And you never will."

Then, because emotion was terrifying and he was constitutionally incapable of leaving her unflustered for too long, he smirked and added:

"Also, you still owe me for calling me unprofessional. I'll be collecting that later."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: What does a Chancellor Daydream of?
Aurelian Veruna

Aurelian and his perfectly timed dramatics. Shiraya help her, the man truly had a gift for it, the exact alchemy of playful mischief and brazen incorrigibility that made her want to both laugh and shove him off the bench in equal measure. Every quip, every sudden grin, every earnest moment where he actually listened… it all knotted together into something that made her chest ache. Something frighteningly, beautifully real.

And just as Aurelian's laughter echoed through the chamber, Sibylla felt her own smile hitch upward in helpless response. How he always managed to do this, drawing her out of herself before she even realized she'd stepped past her guard.

From his dramatic aversion to Corde and all felines, to his absolutely shameless claim that her far less professional antics had begun to infiltrate his daydreams at work, she could only roll her eyes even as her heart curled warmly around the admission. And when he teased, with that sinful glint in his gaze, that he'd show her how pottery kept his hands busy and strong, she tried, truly tried, to look unimpressed.

But Shiraya, the faint blush and smile betrayed her anyway.

Especially when he told her she didn't have to be perfect with him. That she could simply be herself -- the one he'd crossed an entire system for.

Well, old habits die hard… but some habits loosen when Aurelian looked at her as if he truly saw her. All of her. And wanted her wholly for it.

So with a passing graze of her hand along his shoulders, Sibylla shifted, the soft fabric of her gown whispering over the piano bench as she settled to sit down beside him. Shoulder to shoulder now. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him that was equally comforting as it was entirely too distracting. She gave his elbow a soft bump, her own quiet way of saying thank you without saying the words out loud.

But the moment softened quickly into a huff of amusement.

"Do not be upset for calling out your unprofessionalism," she murmured, tilting her head just enough to give him a sideways glance of mock innocence. The spark of gold in her tawny eyes dared him to argue.

"Or," she added, voice dipping into something sly, "are you willing to explain just how professional these daydreams of yours truly are, Chancellor?"

Soft pink lips curved in wicked challenge, as she fully expected, and dreaded, and maybe wanted, a reply that would fluster her into oblivion.

But even through the teasing, the truth lingered between them. The future they wanted to build. Queen, King, Voice, duty, the weight of House Abrantes and Veruna. His six more years until re-election. The people they were becoming, separately, and perhaps together.

She inhaled softly, turning to the keys. Deciding that something lighter was needed, Sibylla let her fingers dance over the ivory keys in a playful melody. It was airy and warm, the kind of tune that lifted the heart simply by existing. The acoustics caught it, and it spread like sunlight through the room.

"It wasn't terrible, you know," she said gently, letting the music speak beneath her words. "Coming here whenever I needed to pour out whatever I wasn't allowed to say aloud."

Hazel eyes flickered up to his in small, quick, tender, unguarded glances even as she continued to play.

"We are born into privilege and duty, yes... but also into expectations. Countless, suffocating expectations." She pressed another chord that turned the tune more thoughtful. Introspective. And all the while her body gently swayed to the sound as she continued to play, "Yet...somewhere along the way, I realized many of those expectations were ones I placed upon myself."

Her mind drifted to her father, to that quiet, startling conversation about her stepping back from the Sovereign Campaign. About her fear of letting him down. Their House down. Herself down. That she hadn't known what she wanted. That Aurelian did.

She let out a soft, incredulous breath.

"I spoke to my father recently regarding why I stepped back from the campaign. How I had thought I was failing him. Failing our House." A wry, bittersweet curve tugged at her mouth. "And he looked at me as though he hardly recognized the weight I thought I carried... clarifying to me that he only set me on that path because he believed it was what I had wanted."

She stopped playing, and the sound faded into stillness.

"The irony of hindsight and how miscommunication can twist everything," she said softly, straightening her shoulders as she turned fully toward him. She drank him in, how he looked at her now, even as he listened to her with diligent attention, how he made her feel so comfortable telling him what had been so hard for her to relay to Cassian and her father before.

"Which is why I am trying not to make the same mistakes with you." Her voice gentled to a vulnerable honesty, thinking on where she had erred with Lysander and Ace. She reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his to steady herself in the warmth of his palm.

"I am still discovering what it is I truly want… and who I am when I am not trying to be someone's idea of perfect." Her thumb brushed over the back of his hand, a quiet plea and a promise intertwined.

"I may not know myself entirely. Not yet. But I am trying to show you every part of me. Even the ones I kept tucked away… like how I've wanted to help people since I was a child." She gave a soft, self-aware chuckle at the memory of what he had asked her to share.

"That I love snow but absolutely hate being cold. My first crush was Paulo de Lancret, who also became my first academic rival. I won, of course." Her smile tilted wryly before she continued, quieter. "And that the more intricate my braids are, the more anxious I am. It gives me the illusion of control when I feel I have none."

Sibylla's smile brightened, then softened into a conspiratorial one.

"And lastly, it is evident you make it entirely too easy to indulge my rebellious side," she teased, lifting his joined hand and pressing a light, affectionate kiss to his knuckles, her eyes sparking in delighted, daring mischief.

"So if I turn unruly, Aurelian Veruna, you will only have your own charm to blame."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I'll be with you the whole way.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian felt her settle beside him, shoulder brushing his. She was warm enough that it nearly derailed whatever reasonable response he'd meant to give. Her nearness made the air feel thick, charged, and dangerous in a way he relished too much. He turned toward her slowly, eyes dropping to where her knees angled toward his, then rising to meet her challenge with a slow, wicked curl of his mouth.

"Professional?" he echoed, voice dipping low. "Sibylla, my daydreams are nowhere near professional." His gaze swept over her deliberately, reverently, every inch of her catalogued with unhurried appreciation. "In fact," he continued, leaning just close enough that their noses nearly brushed, "most of them start in a room not unlike this one. A piano. Sunlight. You wearing something just like that except... " his smile sharpened "...perhaps a little less of it." His thumb brushed the inside of her palm, slow and suggestive. "And they never stay professional for long."

The flush that touched her cheeks was worth every future reprimand. But as she went on, as her voice softened and her truths unfolded between them, Aurelian felt something shift. Something low and instinctive. The teasing settled beneath a deeper feeling. Her fingers played, and she spoke of expectations, isolation, self-imposed burdens mistaken for duty. He watched the sway of her shoulders as the music carried her confessions forward. Underneath it all, through the warmth and the intimacy, Aurelian felt another wind stirring. Some thread in her aura pulled taut in a way he couldn't quite name. He didn't comment on it yet. He waited until she offered him the space to step into that part of her. Instead, he simply listened.

When she told him she thought she'd failed her father, failed her House, failed herself, he exhaled long and slow through his nose, jaw ticking. This was fury on her behalf. "You shouldn't have had to hold any of that in," he said, voice lower and rougher. "None of us should've had to. We didn't ask to be born into this life, or into names heavy enough to crush us before we could walk." His thumb stroked once over her knuckles, an unconscious gesture of grounding. "But you did your best with what you knew. That is not failure."

She continued, and he absorbed each word: her father's reaction, the miscommunication, the revelation that she'd spent years twisting expectations around herself like a cage. Aurelian's expression softened in a way he rarely allowed it to, especially in sunlight, where nothing could hide. "Your father should count himself lucky," he murmured as she finished, "that you care enough to worry about disappointing him at all. You carry more than most people ever will, and you've carried it with grace, even when no one deserved that of you."

Then she turned to him fully, earnestly. Vulnerability laid bare in the space between their hands. She spoke of discovering who she was, of showing him parts she once concealed, of childish wants, the rival she defeated, the way her braids betrayed her anxiety. Shiraya help him, she kissed his knuckles.

He lifted their joined hands and cradled hers between both of his, bending forward until his forehead brushed hers, only barely, a whisper of contact. "You could show me every piece of yourself," he said quietly, "every fear, every flaw, every ambition, every stubborn, rebellious spark, and I'd stay." His voice lowered further, gaining that rare sincerity he reserved only for her. "Because I'm not here for the perfect version of you. I've met her. She's terrifying. I'm here for the woman who wins academic duels, who hates being cold but loves the snow, who braids her hair tight enough to hide trembling hands." His thumbs stroked the sides of her wrists delicately. "I'm here for the real you."

He leaned back just enough to see her fully: the hazel in her eyes, the quiet storm behind them, the strength she didn't even know she had. "And if discovering yourself leads you somewhere unexpected?" he added, softer still. "I'll walk there with you. Even if I'm not the destination. Even if all I get is the privilege of seeing you choose for yourself." Then, because sincerity made him feel bare, he eased a grin across his face, slow, dangerous, and devastating. "And for the record," he murmured, brushing a stray curl behind her ear, "if you become unruly, I'll take full responsibility."

His lips grazed her jaw, light as a promise. "After all," he whispered, "I did warn you my hands are very strong." He pulled back enough to smirk. "Strictly due to pottery, of course."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

​

Location: Is it that easy?
Aurelian Veruna

The brazenness of Aurelian's scandalous implication hit Sibylla like a warm shock that surged from her cheeks down, the flush blooming high over her cheekbones, fire licking the tips of her ears.

It thrilled her. Provoked her. Made her mind go blank. She had tried to play it off by focusing on the keys, on posture, on breathing. Anything to regain composure. Thankfully, as she found her words again and as she spoke of expectations, of fears, of misunderstood duty, the heat receded to something she could breathe around.

And then she noticed it.

The way his jaw set. The way his shoulders pulled taut. Aurelian's anger, not at her, but for her, hit her with unexpected force. It softened something in her chest, a place she rarely allowed anyone to touch. That fierce protectiveness of his, simmering beneath every word he offered her… she understood its weight.

"No… you are right," she murmured in answer, her fingers trailing over the keys, a softer melody replacing the racing of her pulse. "We didn't ask to be born into this, and certainly it won't end with us…or the generation after."

Considering their positions and even more so for Aurelian, for he had the duty to produce an heir. One who would face the same duty, responsibilities, and perhaps, the same set of suffocating expectations. But how those are relayed is now within Aurelian's hands and judgment.

"…but just like you said, one can only do their best based on what we know at the time. Just like now. Even stepping into the Interim Queen seat… it has been one day at a time."

Sibylla took in a breath, her thumb grazing lightly over his hand.

"And I admit, if one good thing came out of this madness with the Chancellorship, it is that I had to face my fears and doubts about the crown head on. I could not overthink it. I just had to do it. And, in its own way… that helped me see things, understand them, about myself and the position that allows me to recognize whether I find joy in it or if it is merely just another responsibility I'm taking up because I have to. The rest… perhaps time will answer."

But it was his next admission that undid her. That, regardless of her flaws and her journey, he'd stay. Walk with her through that discovery. And her hazel eyes lit with stunned affection, a quiet aching tenderness as he went on.

But a slight frown creased her brow when he clarified that it would be enough to walk beside her in her discovery, even if he wasn't the destination. The sincerity of it struck her deeply, too deeply even as it sliced her with the painful prick of a paper cut. And of course, he swept it away with some wicked remark about pottery and his strong hands, dragging her mind helplessly back to the daydream he'd shared, to the image merging with that of endless tanned skin, sunlight, and far less clothing.

Her imagination betrayed her spectacularly.

Heat flared again, scarlet blooming across her face just as she felt his lips graze her jaw. She inhaled sharply, a sound far too revealing at how he affected her. She tried to act as though he hadn't just irrevocably altered how she would think about her piano room, but his smirk told her he knew exactly what he was doing.

Quips were her only shield.

"You know," she managed, voice thinner than she intended, "when you talk like that, you sound so sensible. Rational. Understanding." And while it was a tease, her tone was gentle and threaded with genuine appreciation.

"Aurelian Veruna, full of such worldly wisdom," she said with a small, betraying smile as she lifted her hand to cup his face. Her thumb brushed the faint dark stubble along his cheek, only to pause, her brow furrowing delicately again as that nagging sting brought the fears of a teenager back to the fore.

"But perhaps I have not learned yet how to be as mature as you claim to be," she murmured, sliding her hand down from his face to sail and rest palm down over his heart. "Because you have tempted me to want to be selfish."

And while her heart quickened as a thread of uncertainty rose in her, she still did her best to try to meet his gaze.

"Or…" she said softly, the words slipping out before she could stop them, "is it truly so simple for you to walk beside me now without ever being with me?"

There was a slight tremble on the edges of her voice, quieter than she meant it to be. She knew he had spoken to ease the weight on her shoulders, to give her room to breathe and discover herself. But part of her heard something different -- the possibility that he could simply step back, observe her from a polite distance, and call himself content.

She wasn't certain she could endure that kind of distance.

Aurelian Veruna, with his infamous reputation for indulgence and his alleged aversion to anything resembling permanence should have made such a stance predictable. Yet he was not the man the whispers had painted. Not to her. He had proven himself thoughtful, protective, startlingly earnest beneath all the mischief.

And while she wished she could claim to be as selfless as he implied… the truth tangled painfully in her chest -- Sibylla wasn't the sort to easily let go.

"I wish I could say that watching you choose yourself would be enough for me," she admitted, her gaze searching his with a kind of fragile bravery, "but I am not certain I possess that kind of restraint."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I hate restraint.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian went still the moment her tone shifted.

It was subtle. Sibylla's quip landed soft instead of sharp. Her brows knit with something quieter, wounded at the edges, rather than teasing confusion. Then her hand slid down his chest, settling over his heart, and he felt her. The sudden unraveling of something he had never meant to set loose.

His smile faltered. It did not vanish, just broke, the way light bends when something precious is at risk of cracking.

"Sibylla…" he began, but she continued, and every word made his pulse stumble.

Is it so simple for you to walk beside me now without ever being with me?

Aurelian inhaled sharply, shoulders tensing beneath her palm. Shiraya. He hadn't meant that, not the way she'd heard it. He'd only tried to give her freedom, space, because some selfish, trembling part of him feared one day she might look at his childish ways, his brazenness, his impossible incorrigibility and decide she wanted something better than him. He had tried to brace himself for a heartbreak that hadn't even happened. And she thought he was preparing to step away.

Aurelian's throat tightened, hard enough to ache. His hands found her waist instinctively, fingers curling in the silk of her gown as though anchoring her would keep the moment from slipping into something unbearable.

"Hey, no." His voice came out low, rougher than he meant. He shook his head forcefully. "Sibylla, that's not, Shiraya, that's not what I meant."

Her eyes lifted to his, open, searching, afraid in a way that made his chest feel like it had been struck.

Aurelian exhaled unsteadily and cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheekbones with gentle urgency. "I wasn't trying to be noble or wise or any of that rubbish," he admitted, voice unsteady, stripped of all the polished bravado he usually wore. "I said what I did because I'm terrified one day you'll see that I don't deserve you. And if you chose something else, someone else, I wanted to pretend I'd be able to survive it."

His laugh was barely a breath, pained and disbelieving. "I was lying. To myself. Horribly."

His forehead dipped to hers, resting there with a fragile, grounding pressure. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the truth tear free.

"I don't want restraint," he whispered against her skin. "I don't want distance. I don't want to just walk beside you." His hands slid down her neck, curling around her shoulders, drawing her closer until she was pressed fully into the solid line of him. "I want to be with you. Entirely. Shamelessly. Recklessly."

He pulled back just enough that she could see the rawness in him; no smirk, no mask, no shield.

"I'm in love with you," Aurelian said, the words trembling with the force of being held in too long. "I love you so much I can't think straight half the time. I love you so much I tried to convince myself that letting you choose anyone but me would be some noble act." His jaw flexed as he searched her face, afraid and hopeful and wildly undone. "It isn't. It would break me. Shatter me to a million pieces."

His thumb traced her lower lip. "I want to be selfish," he murmured. "I want you. I want to be the one you discover all those pieces with. I want to be the one who gets the privilege of every version of you. And I don't want to pretend otherwise."

His voice dropped to a whisper, raw and unguarded.

"So please don't think for a moment that I could be content with just walking beside you." His forehead pressed to hers again, breath mingling. "I want to walk with you because I hope, Shiraya help me, I hope I'm the one you choose."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: I choose you, Aurelian Veruna
Aurelian Veruna

Aurelian had gone still in that particular way he did only when something shook him to his core.

And in the next breath, Sibylla felt everything narrow to the pressure of his fingers at her waist, the roughness in his voice, the way he held her as if letting go would break something fragile between them.

That's not what I meant.

The relief that flooded her was so sharp it made her tremble. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath until it escaped her in a quiet, shaking exhale. His hands rose to her face, and she melted into them instinctively, even as the desperate and earnest press of his forehead against hers made her heart give a painful lurch. And as each of his words followed, the raw honesty of it made her breath quicken with a rising swell of emotion she had no defenses left to temper.

I don't want restraint. I don't want distance. I don't want to just walk beside you. I want to be with you. Entirely. Shamelessly. Recklessly.

"Aurelian..." Sibylla murmured with a shaky breath, breathing him in, letting the truth of him settle over her like something she had needed without knowing it. Her fingers skimmed up from his chest, curling into the fabric at his shoulders as if that alone could steady her. But it was his eyes, gold bright and undone, and the warm stroke of his thumb across her lip that held her in place.

I'm in love with you. I love you so much I can't think straight half the time. I want to be selfish. I want you. I want to be the one you discover all those pieces with.

His confession pressed right into the fear she had carried for weeks: that she would want too much and he would retreat, that she would lose someone she was still learning how to let herself have. That like others before, it would be so easy to let her go. Act as if it didn't affect him at all.

But it would affect him, shatter him -- she felt it in the tension of his muscles, in the falter of his breath, in the way he held her like she was an anchor and a risk all at once.

"Aurelian...hey. "Her voice trembled, fragile and coaxing. She lifted her hands from his shoulders to his collar, then to his cheeks, her palms warm against the scruff of his jaw as if she could soothe the rawness she saw there.

Without hesitation, she tugged him down into a kiss.

It wasn't teasing or playful. It was grounding. Fierce in its tenderness. A silent plea to pull him out of that free-fall, to remind him he was wanted, wanted deeply, wanted now. Her lips pressed to his, her tongue brushing his softly, her body leaning into his despite how awkwardly they were angled on the bench. None of that mattered. All that mattered was anchoring them both.

She drew back only after a few seconds, eyes still closed, their breaths mingling. When she finally looked at him, it was as if she saw all of him at once -- the strength, the softness, the fear, the want. And reflected there, she saw herself.

The corner of her mouth slid into a soft, trembling smile.

"I love you, Aurelian." she whispered, and though her voice was quiet, there was nothing uncertain in it. Her thumb brushed his cheekbone as his jaw flexed beneath her touch.

"And I choose you." she breathed out, making it clear. She leaned forward to brush a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then to nuzzle his cheek in a motion far more intimate than a kiss, a confession caught between breath and warmth.

"I choose you. Entirely. Shamelessly. And yes… recklessly," she echoed with a slight laugh, her fingers sliding up to curl at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer as she said it again, her voice surer with each repetition. Grateful that he had soothed and clarified that he did want her, and didn't see himself so easily leaving her.

"Today, tomorrow, and every day after," she murmured, fingers brushing the back of his neck, "I want to discover every new part of myself and of you… with you beside me, with the man I love."

When she finally pulled back enough to meet his gaze fully, her hazel eyes shone bright in that luminous, steady, impossibly sincere gaze. Was it naive? Perhaps. Could someone say she was too young to truly know what she wanted, and that it might change in the future? Certainly.

Because Sibylla knew herself in this.

She knew Aurelian. Knew how he lingered and colored her thoughts, how he pushed her to laugh, to risk, to feel. Knew and loved how he changed her to enjoy the delights that life gave and the simple pleasures that followed. She knew the rush she felt in his presence and the safety she found in his arms. She knew he wasn't perfect, and neither was she.

What that the whole of him? No. There was still much to learn about him. Just like her, he had his own secrets. His own likes and dislikes that she was still learning about every day, discovering him as he was discovering her.

But she wanted all of it.

A soft twist of her lips turned into mild wry humor as the tension and anxiety that she felt bubbled forth.

"It is too late for you anyway," she murmured, breath still mingling with his. "I have already informed my father that I love you, so you must now make an excellent impression." Her fingers curled at his nape in a soft, affectionate squeeze. "I should like you to return and see how Dee'ja Peak sets itself on fire when the leaves change colors."

And then once again, there was a spark of mischief in her hazel eyes, his affirmation on what he felt for her, and his desire to remain at her side, allowing her to quip once more.

"And if you do particularly well…" Her smile curved, slow and wicked despite the soft pink rising in her cheeks. "I might even tell you about the daydreams I have of you."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I dont deserve you
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until she kissed him. This one was different. It anchored him, pulling him out of the free-fall he hadn't even known he'd surrendered to. Her mouth was warm, certain, and completely unshaken by the fear that had gutted him moments before.

When she pulled back and said, "I love you," and then, "I choose you," something inside Aurelian went quiet in a way nothing in his life had ever been quiet. It felt like peace. He could hardly process the words as she repeated them with that trembling sincerity, her hands tugging him closer by the nape of his neck.

He'd spent years convincing himself he wasn't someone who got chosen, especially not by someone like her. Sibylla was infinitely better than him. She possessed a steady heart, a razor edge of brilliance, and an impossible sincerity matched only by her stubborn resilience. She held all the softness he'd never been allowed to keep for himself. She was everything he'd been raised to admire but never believe he could actually have. Every time she looked at him with warmth in her eyes, some long-sealed part of him cracked open, whispering that maybe he could be more than what his father claimed. Maybe he wasn't a disappointment waiting to happen.

He didn't realize his vision had gone slightly unfocused until her thumb brushed his cheek. Aurelian blinked, exhaled, and let a shaky laugh escape him. It was an unguarded sound, boyish and almost disbelieving.

And then she said it. "I have already informed my father that I love you."

Aurelian froze. When he grinned, it wasn't the dangerous, wicked expression he used to dismantle opponents or charm a ballroom. This one was smaller, softer, and earnest in a way he very rarely allowed anyone to see.

"You... told your father?" he repeated, trying to ensure he'd heard correctly. The helpless, warm smile tugged wider. "That means more than you know."

It truly did. He'd spent years seeing other fathers look at him the way his own had: a liability, a political tool, a future failure with too much pride. The idea of her father, stern, discerning Naboo royalty, hearing her say she loved him simultaneously terrified and thrilled him. It made something in his chest feel too big for his ribs.

His hands slid down her back, tracing the outline of her spine with reverent slowness before he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. It was a grateful, disbelieving brush of lips. "Dee'ja Peak," he murmured against her skin. "If it's on fire when the leaves change colors, then I suppose I should be there to witness the spectacle. Especially if I'm expected to make an excellent impression." His voice dropped, threaded with laughter. "Which, for the record, I can absolutely do. I'm devastatingly charming under pressure."

Then she added the part that nearly set him ablaze: "And if you do particularly well… I might even tell you about the daydreams I have of you."

Aurelian pulled back just enough to look at her fully, his eyes narrowing with slow, delighted mischief. His dangerous smile returned. "Well," he drawled, brushing a curl behind her ear as his fingers slipped deliberately down her neck, "I did share mine. Sunlight, a piano, far less clothing..." His voice dipped low, teasing and dark with newfound confidence. "Seems only fair that you tell me yours."

He leaned in, lips grazing her jaw again, lingering this time with a barely restrained hunger. "Go on," he whispered, "what do you daydream about?" His thumb traced her lower lip again, slow, coaxing, and wickedly patient. "I'm dying to know."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: I already told you, you have to make a good impression first!
Aurelian Veruna

Sibylla had thought her heart had already reached its limit in how fiercely it could ache for him -- and then Aurelian looked at her like a man who had waited his whole life to be chosen and had never once believed it possible.

It pulled her straight back to the night he told her of his childhood, of growing up convinced he was worthless, shaped by a father and a sister who carved that belief into him until he could no longer tell where their voices ended and his began.

It made Sibylla only more determined then. To remind him as much as she could, be it by words, actions, or her affection, that he was worthy of love, of having someone at his side, truly, completely, without fear of any machinations or underlying schemes.

It only confirmed her suspicion when he froze at her admission about her father. For a heartbeat she nearly laughed, a small, helpless sound caught somewhere between delight and disbelief.

But then his expression changed.

The shift was subtle, profound and it stole the breath from her lungs. That soft, earnest smile. The quiet awe in his voice as he echoed her words.

The warmth kindling behind his amber eyes. It softened him, stripping years from his face, leaving him almost boyish in his wonder. As if her simple confession had been a gift he'd never expected to receive.

Oh. That look could undo a woman.

"It was important," Sibylla admitted quietly, in an almost shy but assured tone. "He deserved to hear it. And… I wanted him to know."

She brought her right hand up to gently trace the line of his jaw with her fingers, gentling the disbelief she still felt radiating off him.

"I wanted him to understand that my love for you isn't what made me choose you...it was everything that came before." Her hand slid up, fingertips diving into the dark locks at his nape, her breath catching as his delicate touch ran down her spine.

"How I saw you as a man I would gladly stand beside. A man I trust. One who has shown, time and again, that Naboo's welfare is not just your duty, but your heart. Not your name. Not your House. But you. Just you." And with that Sibylla closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself revel in the security of his touch. The solidness of him. The way he held her as if the universe made more sense with her pressed against him.

But then he had the audacity to tease her. Aurelian Veruna, devastatingly charming under pressure. She huffed a laugh as he leaned in, his voice rich with promise.

"Flattery will not save you if you misstep," she teased back, though her voice wavered when his fingers traced down her neck. But it was nothing compared to how her entire body went molten when he returned to the subject of daydreams.

Shiraya helped her; she could feel the heat rising from her decolletage to the tips of her ears.

"Aurelian…" she breathed, barely managing the word as warm breath skimmed her ear. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of everything: his knees grazing hers, the faint rasp of his stubble against her cheek, and those maddening, capable fingers tracing the line of her neck in a slow, deliberate path that made her spine arch toward him. Her own fingers tightened instinctively in the curls at his nape.

"This is not a matter of fairness…" she tried, though composure slipped through her fingers as quickly as her thoughts. Every one that remained was far too incriminating.

"My daydreams," she said softly, her gaze flickering traitorously to his mouth, "are private."

She swore she felt his smile sharpen in wicked challenge.

"And if I were foolish enough to share them all," she continued, cheeks warming further, "you would be utterly insufferable."

Yes, that maddening smile grew even wider.

Sibylla shot Aurelian a look that was equal parts scandalized, flustered, and unwillingly amused by his brazen confidence.

"And I already told you," she murmured with a slight huff of a laugh, turning to face him even as she knew he would quip back and scandelize her more to her incredulous delight, "if you prove to make an excellent first impression with the man I know you to be… I might consider telling you one."

She would stand firm on this condition. Completely firm. Fully resolved.

At least that is what she was telling herself.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: I wouldn't want to tempt you.
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes

Aurelian's grin sharpened the moment she said private. He knew that tone; the flustered, breath-caught tremble she tried valiantly to smother. It lit something wicked and triumphant in his chest. "Private?" he echoed, his voice warm velvet and trouble. "Sibylla, my heart, saying that only makes me want to know them more."

His hand slid up her spine again, slower this time, deliberate as a promise. He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his breath tasting her gasp before she could swallow it. "And insufferable?" he murmured, teeth grazing lightly at the edge of her jaw. "I'm already insufferable. You love me anyway, you just admitted to it."

Aurelian let his nose trail down her cheek, then lower, just barely touching the line of her throat. He felt her pulse jump under his lips. "Just think," he whispered, his thumb tracing the hollow at her collarbone, "you could spare yourself all this torment… simply by telling me one little daydream." She shivered. Subtly, but he felt it.

Because he was Aurelian Veruna, and self-control was something he exercised only when it amused him, he leaned in as if about to kiss her neck, and stopped. A breath away. She felt the heat of him, the promise of pressure, but not the touch itself. He heard her inhale sharply. Victory was a sweet, dangerous thing.

Aurelian's lips curved against her skin without ever touching. "But no," he murmured, pulling back slowly, savoring her disappointment. "You insisted I must make an excellent first impression. And I will be..." He tilted his head, golden eyes wicked. "…a perfect gentleman in your home."

He slid off the bench with fluid ease, stepping back before he could give in to the difficult temptation she created. Crossing the room, he dropped onto the couch and sprawled back, one arm draped along the top. He gestured for her with his hand to play something, his smirk softening into something intimate and unbearably confident. "Come then," he said, reclining like a man who knew exactly the effect he'd left on her. "Let me practice being the perfect gentleman." A slow, sinful smile. "Unless you're still thinking about those daydreams."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Oh you little...
Aurelian Veruna

Truly, Sibylla's physical reaction to Aurelian was unnerving. It was as though her whole body forgot how to function the moment he leaned close. Her insides twisted tight at his proximity, at the low velvet drag of his voice, and when that tension snapped, everything restarted at once. Her heart lurched. Her breath stuttered back into her lungs. Her thoughts scattered in a wild, reckless rush that made her mind go blank.

For one suspended, scandalous heartbeat, she leaned into him without thinking at all, caught in the heat he summoned with maddening ease.

And then he stopped.

The breath she had been holding escaped in a soft, startled rush that hovered between disbelief and utter exasperation.

"You…" Sibylla breathed, trying, failing, and then simply abandoning the attempt to knit her composure back together. Her face burned. Her pulse skittered. "....are truly insufferable."

But he was right. She loved him for it anyways.

She bit her lip, drew in a slow breath, and fixed him with a look that balanced incredulity and barely contained frustration, then gave a slight huff as she shook her head, the length of her hair lightly swaying about her shoulders.

"A perfect gentleman," she echoed with a dry laugh and a pointed lift of her brows. She couldn't even argue with him, because that is exactly what she wanted him to express. To make a good first impression on the one man whose guidance and opinion she held high above others. "Yes...naturally."

As if those words and Aurelian Veruna had ever belonged in the same sentence.

Her point was proven the moment she glanced over at him.

There he was, sprawled across the couch as though the gods themselves had carved it for his personal lounging pleasure, amber eyes heavy with smug satisfaction as he gestured lazily toward the piano. Entirely unbothered. Entirely self-satisfied.

Meanwhile, Sibylla's skin still burned wherever his breath had touched her.

She turned back to the piano and let her fingers hover over the keys, trying to ignore the racing of her pulse and the warmth still blooming across her cheeks.

"Well…" she managed under her breath, "I do not play on command, Aurelian Veruna."

Prim. Regal. Utterly betrayed by the flutter beneath it.

Yet her fingertips brushed the ivory, and despite herself, they twitched, aching to translate the confusion and provocation he stirred in her.

So she let them.

The first notes struck sharper than intended, bright with fluster and indignation. But her hands settled quickly into the familiar rhythm that always soothed her, weaving irritation into something far more intricate, far more honest.

Sibylla played because she had to.

Because the storm inside her could only be released across the keys.

What she could not bring herself to say aloud, the piano confessed for her: a flare of embarrassment, a spark of fury, a rush of energy she could not contain.

"And for the record," she said lightly, fingers flicking into a teasing flourish that betrayed her more than her tone, "I am not thinking about those daydreams."

The melody trilled, and the tips of her ears flushed pink.

"…not all of them."

And Shiraya help her, the riff that followed was far too bold, far too bright, far too revealing.

Fine, she thought. Two can play this game.

Her hands flew faster, the music rising and tumbling in a dance between provocation and confession. Every flick of her wrist, every shift in tempo, every fierce, breathless chord revealed more than any quip she could muster. Her fluster. Her defiance. The maddening thrill he coaxed from her so effortlessly.

She refused to look at him.

But the way she played made the truth unmistakable.

She knew he was watching.

And some part of her… wanted him to see exactly what he did to her.