As his head swam with thoughts of what torments he would receive he opened his eyes to see the Arch Angel staring at him. Her hand was cupped around him in a protective embrace. Each of her fingers as large as a castle tower moved to encase him yet allowing him to still gaze upon her. Even at this close of a distance her countenance radiated a soft bright light that hid her expressions. Her head tilted to the side as she massages her shoulder, “Oh, Myos.” She immediately retracts her hand, as if she was uncomfortable showing that kind of weakness to her followers. She knows it’s normal for her body to ache. Even being an Arch Angel she was still a creature of flesh and blood. Besides, she knows how to take care of herself well enough.
“Are you hurt?” Myos asks, for a several painful lingering moments the only reply he gets is silence.
“No, this form just aches with the weariness of battle. ” She says honestly.
“I see.” he says simply, the awkwardness surrounding them feeling like it’s going to strangle you. However, being in the presence of a nigh divine being is supposed to feel like this, right? “Do you… want me to give you a massage?” He offers, unsure of what else he could provide to the Arch Angel.
“How can I refuse such a generous request?” She says before bringing her hand to her shoulder.
The Arch Angel's eyes light up as she waits for Myos to approach her. She is draped in her robe that was said to change colors at her whim. At the present, the robe was a dark blue. Myos gulps as he slowly walks along his patron's arm.
The landscape of her mighty limb proves to be pretty slippery as he struggles to keep a consistent pressure along her muscles. He can’t even tell whether or not he’s doing a good job at massaging his benefactor with how silent she is, and maybe that’s part of it. The knights' words from the past about bearing the weight of his self-esteem are still ringing in his head. He huffs a bit at the memory and doubles down on his efforts. The bitterness from earlier is still seeped into his mind no matter how much he wants to make peace.
He doesn’t need her praise; he just needs to do his best. There’s nothing he can do if he can’t meet her standards, anyways.
Still, there’s a tugging at his heart the longer he goes on like this in silence, “Is it…” He has to clear his throat before he can properly ask, “Am I doing, okay?” He asks, trying not to let the double meaning or the vulnerability in his voice bleed through.
For a few moments that feel like hours, the Archangel doesn’t say anything. Myos can’t tell if she’s thinking or if she simply doesn’t have an answer. He’s about to open his mouth to tell her that she doesn’t have to respond, but he nearly slips on her soft skin when she finally says, “You are.” Her tone is clipped and short, almost strangled even.
Maybe her mind is focused on something else. The lingering scent of salt on her skin suggests that she was at sea. Maybe she had to rescue a ship or fight with the dreaded denizens of the deep. It was not a question to ask at this time.
As he works through the tissue and muscle of the Arch Angel's trapezius, he finally feels a twinge of relief when she speaks, "It feels good." She says softly, and it makes Myos smile.
He presses a little deeper into the tissue of his savior's trapezius, causing her bare shoulders to flex beneath him, “I’m sorry for any trouble I have caused” He finally says.
“Thank you for saying that but there is no need to apologize.” She says stiffly, and it makes Myos' heart sink for a moment at the response. He wants to ask for her forgiveness already, but he knows it isn’t fair. He knows that he isn’t owed her forgiveness, but he wants to be. He wants to be entitled to forgiveness as unconditionally as a mother’s love, but he bites his tongue before it can dig him into a deeper hole. Surely she isn't this forgiving not to a tomkin.
“I’m sorry for this whole thing.” he feels the need to add, “I wanted to show that a tomkin could do some great deed and demonstrate my devotion to you, but I… I don’t think I’m doing that great at it.” He sheepishly admits, pressing harder into her taut muscles to bear the weight of his own vulnerability spilling out of him.
“Nobody’s perfect.” She softly reminds him, and in this moment all his fears fly away.
He nods, “I want to keep trying to be better though.” He admits as he walks along the edge of her shoulders, doing his best not to fall or ruin the moment of peace.
“Thank you.” He breathes softly, This was never about giving a quality massage anyways. More than anything, she wanted this to be a moment of quality time. It appears that beyond all reason, this Titan wanted to be alone with a insignificant Tomkin.
There's something to be said about how relaxing it is to just be in someone's presence without the company of the spoken word. The Archangel looks over her shoulder at her follower and takes a long deep breath. Myos can feel the air rushing past him like a gale. Even with the sharp sting of her breath the sweet scent of morning flowers envelops his body. It feels like home.
As the Arch Angel exhales the air leaves her lungs as a primal force of nature, "You're doing well for someone so small." She says before taking a moment to look up into the sky. There's no sound, but they can see the clouds rushing overhead. "I have always found pleasure in watching the sun rise over this little city." She admits.
Myos remains silent and keeps working his body across the Arch Angel's muscles. He wants to ask if she's still in pain, but he doesn't want to spoil this tender moment.
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