Since you left without a trace, [Galia]

[Zaman Jaraei]

He wondered if he could have been okay with a quick fuck and a quick laugh. He was good for both. He was great for both. But he also knew himself better than he should have.

He knew when it came to him, feelings got in the way.

“I'm bad at casual,” he said with a smile of his own. It pulled at the sides of his mouth, straining the skin there. He wasn't obsessive, but there was a definite need for attachment. It seeped into his life, into everything he did. Zaman didn't just want people to like him—he wanted them to love him. It was one of things that drove him. What people thought of him mattered. It was stupid and demanding, but he knew that one day he would cross a line with her that would ruin everything. He was convinced he was in love with every girl he slept with. It was a bad habit and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

As for her response; he heard that loud and clear.

“I know.” His smile was gone, replaced by a grim line.

He didn't expect her to give up anything for him. Who was he to her, anyway? Just some guy who'd almost hit third base with her once. Just another soldier. Zaman wouldn't give up anything for him either, based on that little résumé. He wouldn't give up two coppers.

A few seconds later he found the ability to move again. Nearing the fire, he drew a smoking stick from flames and began to make scratches in the dirt floor of barn. It was a map. “You head North until you see mountains to the East. Turn West at the Cracks and...” he marked an X. “Maristheum.” It was simple really.

There. Now she didn't even have to take him along.

[Galia Baryk]

The bottom line, it seemed, was that he expected too much, and she wanted too little.

If things were different was an unhelpful thought to keep coming back to; the circumstances seemed unlikely to change any time soon, if at all. Even if he quit his job (and she wouldn't ask him to do that, either), the conflict was more than external influence barring the way. Galia was selfish at her core, at least when it came to affection and adoration, and she would have starved him of both. Love in its romantic form was an abstract and terrifying concept, representing a loss of self rather than a gain of something greater. Maybe she was wrong, but she didn't have the luxury of finding out without penalty.

So they were at an impasse here, and to her surprise, that brought greater disappointment than relief. She cared, more than she could admit, and less than would make a difference.

At least they understood each other now. Galia followed him to the fireside, studying the diagram carefully as he drew it, grateful to put her mind to something aside from their respective shortcomings and missteps. It wasn't the most elegant of maps, but she had worked with worse. They could even bring one of the horses back to its original post on her way back. But...there wasn't going to be a 'they' anymore, was there?

Perhaps the question was stupid, but she had to wonder about his intent, with mild concern. "Am I leaving you here, then?"

[Zaman Jaraei]

She wasn't leaving him; he was letting her go.

There was a difference.

Zaman pushed himself to his feet and struck his hands together, removing some of the dirt and forcing some heat to enter his palms. His fingers were still cold. Looking at her, he nodded. “I'll be okay.” He just needed something to drink. Something strong and bitter.

Something that would snuff out whatever weird regret was dancing in his chest like fire.

[Galia Baryk]

"Okay."

Saying this moment was awkward was an understatement. Galia hesitated, uncertain what, if anything, she ought to say to him before leaving, if only just to be polite. It was silly to think manners were still worth it, after all this, but her mother had not raised her to be rude. Take care? See you around? Goodbye?

All of that was wrong. Words had never really been her true friends.

So she didn't say anything.

Instead, she reached out, fingers coming to rest on the back of his neck, nudging his head so that it aligned with hers, and leaned forward. A kiss. One last time.

[Zaman Jaraei]

And then he was less okay.

The kiss was brief. It was the kind of parting kiss that was pleasant and wrong—different from the kisses on the riverbank. His lips met hers, and for a second he could have almost forgotten everything he'd resigned himself to. Her. The decision. Them.

The reminder came sharp and fast. He jerked himself back, his tongue poking out to run a quick circuit across his lower lip.

Then he just looked at her, his expression unreadable.

It was so like a girl to do that, to leave on last imprint on him. To give him something only to show him how little he would later have. Zaman knew it wasn't her intention, but it still tugged at something he was sure she didn't want him to feel. Or maybe she did. He'd ruined her life, right? Maybe this was her chance to ruin his.

[Galia Baryk]

That had not gone as planned.

At all.

For that brief moment, it was enjoyable. She had been gentle, tender rather than lustful, keeping it short and bittersweet. Not a tease, but a better memory to hold on to, instead of their last bit of physical contact being her fist in his face. But that might have been preferable, given how rapidly the pleasure disintegrated into misery.

Stepping back, hand dropping to her side, she realized she had overestimated her defenses. Shutting off emotions wasn't like snuffing out a candle. Her attempt at closure had failed; worse, it only made her want to reverse the decision and that would have been a huge mistake.

Galia turned abruptly, before she could do anything else stupid, and would have left the barn immediately, were it not for the horses. Stupid. Fucking. Horses. No one could ever question she was principled, as she fumbled with the tied up leads on one of the mares, determined not to become a horse thief just because she had developed man problems.

[Zaman Jaraei]

She turned so sharply that Zaman had to wonder if she'd realized the same thing.

He watched her in silence as she moved towards the horses. There she fumbled with the reigns. He watched her fingers work over the knots, her face veiled behind her hair.

In a different time, Zaman would have offered to help. But it wasn't a different time—it was now, and he was just going to stand around and wait for her to leave. Because if he spoke again they would have a conversation. And if that happened, he wasn't so sure he could keep all this confusion bottled in. He would end up giving this emotion actual words. He would speak up. He would make a tale out of it.

Yar Zaman Jaraei would spill his guts, showing her all the complicated nonsense that swam like a serpent in his stomach.

But he also couldn't look away either.

[Galia Baryk]

She didn't have to look at him to know that he was still watching her, following her motions around the small space, but saying absolutely nothing.

The silence was maddening and stressful. Her fingers were cold and clumsy, and the knots around the post far too tight, and he was still watching. She wanted to scream, which wouldn't have helped at all, but it might have served as some kind of release.

Her tension had transferred to the horse, who wasn't helping at all by stamping in place, pulling back against the reins. To ease the mare's nerves, Galia reached out to give her a gentle stroke, but only received a set of snapping teeth in return.

Everything sucked.

Finally, the snag in the line pulled free. Backing away, she pushed the barn door open and let the troubled horse trot out ahead of her. Maybe it would find its own way home. Or maybe it would get eaten by wolves. Galia didn't care either way. Not her damn horse, not her problem.

She stopped in the doorway, back still turned to Zaman, staring out at the grey horizon. With the sun shaded by clouds, it took a moment to gather her bearings, but she eventually decided on a direction to call north and stepped outside. Mountains. She had to look for mountains.

[Zaman Jaraei]

He exhaled.

For a long time he simply stood there, his hands at his sides, and his eyes watching the spaces she'd filled just a few minutes ago. Maybe she would come back, he reasoned. Maybe she would turn around and run back to him.

When it was clear that she wasn't coming back, Zaman shifted. He began to move, first to snuff out the fire, then to untie the remaining horse. He took his time, easily working through the complicated knots he'd made a few hours before. When he was done, he ran a hand down the beast's snout. Sighing, he led the horse to the wide door of the barn and paused where she'd paused.

If it was him, would he have turned around?

Later, when he returned home to Maristheum, he hadn't gone to the first tavern that had come his way like he'd planned to. Instead, he went straight home to his little apartment. His jaw was swollen and sore, and his heart...

Well that was a story for another thread.