Now it was Malhin’s turn to act. To stalk around the room, that erratic movement as if she were unsure if she should run or she should stay. To watch it from the other end, was disconcerting. Malhin’s show of indecision allowed him to see how he must have looked just minutes ago. Turning to leave, coming to a stop. Hell, the only thing the Bjarni woman didn’t do, was grab hold of something in the room and violently upturn it. She had cursed at him though, loud and clear, and it brought a rather odd reaction from him. He flinched. Just slightly, but enough that it would be difficult for the keen-eyed warrior to miss it. Had he ever flinched from her anger before? Not that he could remember, but this was a unique situation. For once, he completely understood her anger. How could he present her with hope in one hand, while simultaneously reaching to snatch it with the other? Of course, she would be angry. The human whirlwind was so far outside of her element right now, and he was not helping matters by giving voice to those negative thoughts that preyed in the furthest recesses of his mind.

The two wounded animals, who had spent the morning fighting with one another, stalking one another, searching for that moment to slip in and strike with the intent to kill. Those two animals were struggling internally, as much as they were externally. Anger had dominated much of the morning, physical shows from them both. A bottle flying across the room, a table flipping through the air. For the moment, their shared confession had quelled that anger. What was harder to fight, were those internal thoughts that seemed to dominate them both. For Malhin, it was her Pride. Her inability to admit that this could truly be happening. For him, Pride was hardly the problem. What bogged his thoughts, was that near overwhelming feeling of depression. Was he good enough? Would she be happy with him? Would he be able to let go of his past? Was it fair, to burden this woman with his life? What if he couldn’t let things go? There were a thousand and one questions floating through his thoughts, and very few of them were good.

Much as Malhin hadn’t turned around when she could hear him clearly approaching her, he didn’t take a step back when she approached him. Even as she made that attempt to raise her fist into the air, he made no attempt to defend himself. He simply watched her, with those dark eyes of his. That look in his eyes akin to permission, he understood all too well her desire right now. To seek comfort in destruction, to abolish the whole of this conversation, and replace it with flying fists, and broken bones. He already carried the clear mark of her fist over his one eye. One hell of a shiner she’d given him while they were drunk stupid. Not the first time she’d injured him in that way, and likely not the last, even after this shared confession of theirs. The only difference today, was that he understood. Understood her desires In such a way, that he could not rouse himself to any defensive action. There was a part of him that even agreed. If he could tap into his anger too, maybe things would have escalated. Her damnable confession though, it was still ringing in his ears. How could he act against her now, with those words hanging in the air?

A slight raise of his brows, and a shred of surprise could be found in those eyes, as Malhin’s fist fell back to her side. So neither could find the strength of will to strike the other right now. Or…just maybe, they had both found the strength to resist their baser urges. To resist that desire to hide within the twisted, damaged rules that had so far governed their relationship. What would come next? He watched the woman intently, waiting to see what she would do. He was waiting to see if she would speak, waiting to see what she would add to this confusing situation. He got his wish, though not in a way that he expected. No further words came from the spitfire, it seemed as If she could not speak to save her life. She had attempted to try, and had found nothing to vocalize. However, what she lacked in voice, she made up for with the look she levelled at him. That look of vulnerability, coming from those normally cool glacial eyes, it pierced his heart in a strange way. It was something new, a look he hadn’t imagined she could give someone. Seeing it, brought a fey thought bubbling to the surface of his mind. That thought? He wanted more.

“I want you Malhin.” The same words, spoken again with a firmer voice. Those little flickers of anger earlier detected in his voice? Those were slowly vanishing, temporarily subdued by the strength of the moment. “I want to see you. I want to be with you.” Having started, he allowed his tongue to carry his thoughts. He wasn’t sure if this was what he wanted to hear, but It was what he wanted to say. “I want to celebrate your victories with you. I want to commiserate in your defeats.” Malhin had not acted. Neither with her fists, or her words. The opening she had given him allowed him to speak, and apparently he planned on making good use of the time. “I want to hunt with you, fight with you, drink with you.” His tongue wagged, continuing the tirade that it had begun. Part of him wanted her to stop him, but a larger part knew that this needed to be said. “I want to get to know you, I want to tell you more about myself. I want to be a source of strength for you, when you need it.” With every word he said, it hurt him a little more, deep inside. It was the first time, since his wife’s passing that he’d ever admitted to wanting someone in these ways. To say it now, out loud to Malhin, it hurt. Yet it was also the first, in a long series of steps towards healing.

“I want the whole of you Malhin. I want the good, and the bad, and everything in between. I want to stand in that storm with you, and I want you to know that you’ll never be alone.” A selfish list of demands indeed. His voice slowly dying off now, as those words hung heavy in the air. It was an unconventional confession, this roundabout road that they had taken. Even when they’d said it out loud, it wasn’t normal as most city folks would take it. As the Bjarni trio would never claim to want to keep tabs on each other, to suffocate each other with their presence, neither did he want that for Malhin. He wanted to be a presence in her life, a source of strength, comfort, and companionship. What he did not want was to tie her down, much like the hawk that she kept as a companion he honestly believed that she should be able to soar free. The stronger for it.

No more words could be said, he had nothing left in him at that moment. It took all his strength just to keep his gaze focused on the smaller woman. What would happen now? In that swirl of thoughts that swarmed through him, he did want to close that remaining distance. Embrace the Bjarni woman, but at same time he didn’t know if that was wise. They had both confessed their feelings, had both embraced things today that they never had before. Both of them though, somewhere inside, they were still angry with each other. It was obvious in how they had acted not moments before. Still, there had to be something more, right? He just didn’t know what, and so he was left standing in front of this vexing woman, unable to approach, but equally unable to step away from her. Such an odd moment, how would they look back on this? A confession amidst shattered tables, and broken bottles. One of them wearing a black eye, with their shirt nearby on the floor. Such an odd way for two normal people to have such a serious discussion, but neither of them were normal now were they?