[size=9pt]Another voice sounds out from behind the panther, and whatever interaction he'd been having with V is completely forgotten. His smile falls flat, and, like some alerted Jack Russel, he lifts his head to peer above the crowd, ears swiveling towards the sound. It's Imperia. For a moment, he's frozen where he is, held back by the dread of how she might react to the newly scarred lion. He's never exactly been glistening in his appearance, but this took it to a whole new level. It didn't matter how hard he'd tried to scrub the blood from his fur.

He swerves through the crowd until he finds her, and whatever emotions he's feeling only heighten when he sees how she stands, an unstable, disheveled Imperia. As much as he likes her with messed up fur, he knows this look is for all the wrong reasons. She'd probably been terrified in there. And he'd been gone. He drags himself forward on bated breath until he stands at her side, and, sheepish and hesitant, tries for a smile. "Hey, he says, because he's completely lost for words. His tail floats behind him, badly wanting to touch her shoulder or comfort her in some way. But they're not there yet. His words are pathetic when he speaks. "You okay?"

[size=9pt]The french. It'd grown on him. He'd never given a fuck about language. Hell, his introduction to the bilingual members of the Ascendants was Gabriel-- if he ended up hating all the Mon dieu's and Bonjour's, it'd be justifiable. But he loved it. He held the language so close to his heart now, associated it with Imperia so strongly, that if he were to hear anyone else use it, it'd just feel wrong. They didn't speak like she did.

Something tight wound itself around his throat when she turned his way and spoke. Like a boa constrictor of foreign emotion he couldn't name. It made his face feel warm, and there was a prickling at his eyes that he could only hope weren't tears. That'd be ridiculous. Ridiculous. But he'd missed her more than he realized.

The hug takes him so severely off guard, whatever threat of tears in his golden gaze quickly disappears. He goes tense immediately, shoulders stiff and head lifted upright as the wolf presses her face into his neck. But then, slowly, the scent of the flowers, wilting now, reach his senses and her soft words, spoken so close to his ears, float into his mind and he slumps. He a breath, one he hadn't realized he'd been holding in, and presses his chin ever so gently down against her head. He doesn't know what to do with himself, doesn't know where all this touch came from, but it feels like it's meant to be. Like if he interrupts it, Aphrodite herself will come down from the skies and knock him out. "Missed you too." says the lion, as quiet as it is soft, as he's all too aware of their surroundings. But he feels like he needs to say it. It feels like a mandatory cheesy proclamation, a masked confession.

"Could-- Could we go somewhere?" he says, once he's dragged himself a step away from her. The loss of contact feels cold, but at that moment, he's completely overwhelmed. It shows in the set of his eyes, the shape of his lips. He needs out, out of the gazes that surround them, out of the vast plains that stretch before them. Somewhere for them. Voice quiet with thinly concealed desperation, he says, "I just want-- I need to-- you know. Will you come with me? Please?"

[size=9pt]The Cleric's Hide. Dem was just realizing that it was actually situated in the Observatory, and so all the time Moon had supposedly spent there, moping, while everyone was locked up, hadn't actually happened.

He was eager to get back to it. He didn't know exactly why, but it probably had something to do with the long nights he'd spent there, watching over Har, or the long days he'd spent there, the scent of Peri's flowers overpowering even the strongest herbs. It probably had something to do with the fact that he'd never really had a home, and so, at even the slightest offer of one, he'd latched on, never to let go. Being away from the Hide while in the Typhoon, being away from it when there was a ten foot steel door between him and the room, had been weird. It was an uncomfortable, detached feeling. He missed it.

But he didn't want to bring Imperia back in there. He knew she was on edge. He remembers the day they got locked in that room in the Underground Complex, and how she'd almost lost it when she'd realized. If it was anything close to that, he could only imagine the days she's had. Perhaps they could compete with the days he's had.

"Sorry," is the first thing he says. It feels weird in his mouth, clumsy. There's a bizarre anxiety that's finally ebbing away, but he'd be caught dead before admitting that was the reason he'd asked to leave. "Sounds dumb but, I just-- Crowds for some reason. I don't-- I mean, look at me. Not looking so good right now." He forces a small smile, glancing at her as they walk. He's not sure where they're going. Anywhere. Anything to get his paws moving, with another set in their wake. "Can't have them thinking Captain Hook took my good looks away."

It's an attempt at humor that falls dry, lacking his typical pearly grin. His muscles hurt when they work to carry him. The side of his head pulses like molten lava. The pain is as distracting as Imperia is. Silence falls for a moment, and, mostly unaware, he drifts closer. He's still worried. "How were you in there?" asks the young lion, voice soft as he casts a look her way, brow gently creased. He says the words and then he realizes it might be none of his business; she might not want to reminisce on the time in the Underground Complex. Maybe it's none of his business. "I mean. I just, you know-- Just because you don't like being trapped. Like everyone else didn't like being trapped. Not that you'd freak or anything." he pauses, frowns at his paws for a moment because he sounds like a fool fumbling with a lie. But he's already in deep; might as well keep going. "I came to the door when I got back. I could hear everyone in there-- V, Hazel. We were talking. You weren't there."

[size=9pt]She smiles, and for a moment, he gets lost in it. He feels like a dumbass in a badly written romance novel as he watches the lovely crease that forms around her lips, the crescent shape of her eyes as her mouth lifts. It keeps fucking happening-- he keeps getting caught up in how gorgeous she is, and he'll flick his gaze from the ground to her face and back again because he doesn't want it to be obvious that he wants to stare, but she's magnetic; he can't look away. She draws him back again and again and he has no fucking idea how he ended up like this, but there's no stopping it now. In his head, he thinks of the scene in The Polar Express where the train ends up on ice and the breaks don't work, and it's racing over thin ice towards an inevitable disaster, and Moon never liked that movie that much, but he feels like the train, now.

Her mouth forms shapes and he realizes he's zoned out a little bit. He catches the tail end of her words; '--sous toutes les coutures'. Something intensely fond blossoms in his chest. She's back with the the obscure french statements, again. His mouth curves into a close lipped smile, and he wanders impossibly closer to her, bumping shoulders and paws and staying there, because Moon never had any self control, anyway. His head ducks in close and it looks casual, playful, almost, but when he speaks its molten and rich and heated, the air begins to crackle between them, and the part of his brain that's self-aware has it's palm over it's face, shaking its head in dismay, because this is how it starts. "Thought you would have learned by now that I'm too slow for that shit, Frenchie." They're close like they were back outside the Observatory, but there's no stares burning into his back, now, and he's dragged in by the scent of her, the recent memory of his face in her fur. He nudges the side of her face, because he can, because he's hooked and he's not putting up a fight. "I know you do that on purpose. You playing me? Taking advantage of my linguistically lame brain, Angel?"

The rare moment fades. He sees the uneasiness in her and is reminded of his own, and he wishes he could soothe hers with his presence, but the reality was that not even Imperia being here, with him, was calming his own anxieties. He still felt unsteady on his paws and his heart still beat too fast, feral and unsettled in his chest. There's no changing some things. They'd just have to live with it. "It's okay." He says, words short but genuine. He kicks a rock with one muddy paw. "All that matters is you're out, now. Next order of business is convincing Bast to ditch the Star Nerd theme and burn down that rat trap shithole."

[size=9pt]"I think you think I'm better than I am." He counters. And thats how it ends, as all good things do. His smile is small and forced as he stares down at his paws, browned against the dirt. He wanders, so slightly you'd miss it if you weren't paying close attention, to the side so that they're not crowded up against each other anymore. Whatever had been in the air is replaced with something that leaves a lot to be desired and their brushing fur is only contact, nothing more, and he's got his lip caught between his teeth instead of against the side of her face.

He'd seen it in her eyes. Glittering and gorgeous as they always were, but so warm, too-- The type of warmth that instantly reeled him in and for a moment he'd wanted to kiss her, like he had so many time but more so, now-- but he hadn't. Because that type of look was the kind he'd get hooked on. And if he'd of kissed her, they would've skipped off into the sunset together, stared lovingly at eachother for the good half of an hour before he'd inevitably do something wrong-- he always did something wrong. And she'd realize what big fucking mistake she'd made and she'd take off. And a good thing would be ruined. They wouldn't even be friends. And he loved her. He needed her to stay, because he was a weak piece of shit and at this point, he didn't know what he'd do without her. He needed to not fuck this up, and if that meant playing safe--

'Are we really just friends?'

Fuck.

A falter in his step. He takes a moment where he stares at the ground and watches the crease of the grass under his paws. Sucks in a breath, turns hesitant, golden eyes on her. This is where it all turns to shit. "What else would we be?"