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coldshrugs · 4 months

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talk me down

pairing: io laithe/estinien varlineau word count: 1.8k note: this is a modern au in which io and estinien are roommates but io has been offered an orchestra chair in a city across the country; she accepts it. estinien is grumpy about it. some cursing and alcohol mentions.

There’s nothing between them—not like that anyway—so why is he bothered?

Io would be stupid not to take this opportunity. Estinien told her that much. He insisted. And when it became real, well… it was easier to be excited about an application than the acceptance.

Now it's easier to hide.

Estinien shifts his weight and the fire escape creaks, another notch in his confidence that this place is actually suitable for inhabitants. The rent is cheap and the neighbors mind their business. That's always been good enough, because Io made it home.

The sounds of her going-away party stream from the window he crawled through. He tries not to think about each second bringing tomorrow that much closer. Focuses instead on the cars a few stories below, the wail of a siren in the distance, the glittering lights and warm breeze and none of it works.

Two years in this apartment together, a few years of therapy and studying and feeling each other out before that. “Friends” doesn’t feel like the right word, but it's the word he's got. The word they use.

Tomorrow he will take her to the airport and watch her fly east, and that will be that.

“Hey,” she says, more question than greeting. Io is already halfway through the window by the time Estinien turns around. “I thought you’d be out here. Everything okay?”

Last he saw her, she and their friends were getting a little rowdy during a drinking game, making the kind of memories he isn’t ready to accept as only memories. Each time she laughs, it’s a reminder this is finite. This isn’t how his life will be next week, or six months from now, and will they even be in contact next year? Just… fuck. So he came out to the fire escape (where it’s easier to hear her if he can’t see her), a reasonable behavior any of the people inside would expect from him.

Except for Io, who knew a going-away party was not his idea from the moment she walked through the door. And she knows he’s not out here just for a smoke.

Her hair has frizzed a bit with the sheer amount of body heat in their apartment. She wears an alcohol blush and a smile that says I can leave you alone if you want. But that’s the last thing he wants so he digs deep, past his natural inclination to run away.

“Just needed some air.” He lights a cigarette and leans against the rusted metal railing. An invitation if she wants it. “You know how it is. How I am.”

Io nods, and the sobering breath she takes, the mental armor she slips on to be around him right now... it kills him. He thought he was doing a decent job of keeping his sulking to himself. Her eyes flick to his, then out at the restless city as she says, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s you.”

But she decides to ignore the eggshells for now and pulls up next to him at the railing, their backs to the noisy street below and the bright lights beyond. Shoulder pressed tight to shoulder, and there's nothing between them.

They face the worn, brown-brick building. Their home. Tucked into the corner of the fire escape, Estinien catches only blurred glimpses of the party inside, but someone (Thancred) has found his guitar and a chorus of off-key voices squeeze out of the partially open window to join them in this already public hideout.

Io hums along for a line or two, then nudges him gently. “You like this song.”

“Alberic likes this song,” he corrects.

“And you like what he likes. Albie may not be your dad, but your taste in music? Something genetic about that.”

A tiny part of him wishes she would stop. That she wouldn’t put her blowout evening on pause just to stand in the dark with him. That she’d do him the service of pretending she doesn’t know his life inside and out.

But the bigger part of him is selfish.

He nudges back. “Yeah, well, you try being impressionable and depressed at fourteen, getting dragged to Blue October and Hinder shows every month. Not my fault it stuck.”

“I think it’s sweet.” Io shrugs. “It’s not just Albie, either. I like how you pick up things from people you love.”

What does he say to that?

His responses snag on "I like how you," trying to twist it into something... Something. So he takes a long drag from his cigarette and says nothing. As they stand there, listening to their friends (badly) sing this song, leaning on each other a little heavier than before, he wonders what she thinks he’s picked up from her.

The song ends in a round of cheers and whoops that cut through this little calm. Estinien shakes his head. Maybe they should go back in. He might be more fun after a couple of shots.

Next to him, Io laughs. The sound is small and out of focus, her real laugh. It’d be lost in the noise inside, so he commits to a few more minutes on this metal deathtrap.

“What?” He passes her the cigarette and she takes it without looking.

He looks though, watching the way their fingers graze, barely, handling something small and smoldering so delicately. Watches her follow some movement from inside, her smile creeping from lips to eyes until the skin on her nose wrinkles. A strand of dark hair blows across her cheek. She raises the cigarette to her mouth, pulls in a slow breath, and his smoke rolls between her lips and into the night.

She passes it back to him, still looking inside.

“Urianger just cleared the table for a tarot reading, but Tataru picked up his spread like he dealt her a hand of poker.” She mimics holding the cards, laughing again. Looks like her buzz is back, and maybe he’s catching it too. “He looks crushed. Ugh, I'll miss this. How am I supposed to do this without you guys?”

Estinien chuckles. He takes a final draw and stubs out the finished cigarette. “They'll be lost without you and you know it. You won't be left out of anything, whether you like it or not.”

“What about you?” She turns to him, breaking the line of warmth at their sides. Replacing it with a teasing smile. “Can't wait for me to go so you can finally have some peace and quiet?”

He looks through the grates under their feet, thinking about this apartment—this city—without Io: Never finding his clothes in her laundry, no surprise takeouts when he’s home late from work, not getting absorbed into her fucking obscure dramedy binge-watches. Her quiet hope, the music she radiates even in silence. The thing that’s taking her away.

How did she come to occupy so much space in his life, burning through him, like smoke in his lungs? Their friends won't be the only ones lost without her.

“That’s not true.” His lop-sided grin feels out of place in this sea of sudden nerves. Honesty has never been a difficult thing before tonight. “I’m gonna miss you like hell. I just—” he looks at her, and now he’s the one being watched. She holds him in those big, dark eyes, and maybe there is something between them. Maybe it’s always been there, dormant, or intrinsic and now he's forced to see it for what it is. “I just worry you leaving means we won’t… be like this anymore. That you won’t miss me like I’ll miss you.”

“Estinien—”

“Io—”

“Hey,” she says. Comfort, not a greeting. She surges forward, arms around his neck and waves of puffy blue hair in his face. He feels her cheek on his neck. Her breath, warmer than the night.

The railing is a sharp pressure against his back as he wraps his arms around her, squeezing her closer. The wind moves their hair and clothes, but they stay, swaying when one repositions an arm or chin. The lights and sounds fade to nothing. There’s only this.

Estinien isn’t ready to let go when Io loosens her grip and pulls back. He hasn’t fully etched the feel of holding her this close into his memory—then there's another feeling. Io presses a kiss to his cheek, so soft he isn’t sure it’s real. She turns her eyes on him again, and his are wide with surprise.

“Estinien." Her voice is low. It shakes. "All I can think about is how I miss you already.”

She lingers, too close to the corner of his lips, arms loose around his neck. Her full weight leans against him, trusting him to hold them both upright. What the fuck is happening? He hasn’t processed her breath rushing over his mouth or her half-closed eyes when she pointedly brushes her nose against his.

He doesn’t know when he started wanting this, but good god, he does. Whether she is in the next room or two thousand miles away isn’t going to change that.

He nods. Their faces glance. There is something comforting in the way even that new touch feels natural. They hover in the almost of it all, and Estinien wonders for the first and final time what Io’s lips will feel like against his, how she tastes.

They meet, then they sink. He follows her lead, the gentle press and the beginning of a hungry rhythm. Her hand drifting from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, and he shivers at the thought of her sliding it into his hair, fingers tangled and tugging—

Glass breaks, and so does their kiss.

“Shit!” Cid’s unmistakable voice is thick and slurred.

Io bolts toward the window. “What on earth did they do?”

“Hey,” Estinien says softly. She turns back to him and when they're eye to eye, he knows she finds his meaning without the need to spell it out. She’s confused like he is, and sheepish delight brightens her expression as she waits for him. “Are we okay?”

“We’re always okay.” She climbs back into the apartment and pokes through the window again. “Now please come back inside. I don’t want to be at the party you planned if you’re not there.”

She air quotes you and planned. Estinien laughs through his nose, but even this pulls him toward her.

“Fine. Move so I can get through.”

They rejoin their friends. Tomorrow still fucking sucks. The difference is now Estinien thinks about how his life will be next week, or six months from now, and how many times he will have kissed Io by next year.

#azia writes #io/estinien #io laithe #otwr au #i truly do not know what is happening anymore but #i'm having fun #i miss writing modern stuff like. the energy i had during the wayhaven days flowed through me for this one #i'm not editing this. it's just write and post. BYE #i feel like. they're not saying or doing enough in this #but that's fine because in the story of this au that's in my head all of this means so much a;sljfdlsk

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