There was this little voice inside most people’s heads, that governed the concept behind speech. It was that little bit of conscious that told a person what to say, and when to say it, and most importantly when to stop. When he wanted to be, he could be damn good at the first two. As he’d gotten older, he’d found it harder to speak in whole truths. That was the domain of youth, those young spirits who spoke in absolutes. He’d found that the older a person became, the more they were prone to speak in half-truths, and white lies. It was as if all that emotional baggage stunted people’s ability to be honest with each other. When he put his mind to it however, when he really applied himself to the situation, he managed to hit a stride that could almost be considered smooth. It was just a shame that he’d never really mastered that third thing, that whole when to stop idea. Every time he opened his mouth, good or bad, he always said more than he wanted to. More than he needed to. It was a personal failing, and like so many other things tonight it was coming home to roost.

Against all odds, they had defied expectations, and had told each other how they felt. It wasn’t like how the books would describe it. Everything didn’t just wash away in those moments, as if the whole crux of their argument had been forgotten. It was simultaneously worse, and at the same time, better than that. All of that rage over misspoken words, all of that anger over the ridiculous series of misunderstandings, that was all still there. They wouldn’t just disappear; those feelings would likely continue to exist for a while regardless of how the rest of this event played out. What made it better though? The moment when he heard Malhin shouting that confession at him (A moment that he’d likely look back on and laugh, when things calmed down), that was the moment he felt a tug. Something deep within him, be it his heart, or his soul, it felt as if something had slipped into place there. A piece, that he had forgotten was missing. It was a warmth unlike the anger that had flooded through him moments earlier. Gentle, like the flames from a hearth. If he let it, if he could just let go of this anger, this resentment, this sadness, he knew that it would bring life to him in ways he couldn’t begin to imagine.

That was the key though, being able to let go of things. He did a poor job of that under normal circumstances, but today? When all these words, and these feelings were whipping around them? It felt as if the winds would carry whole pieces of him off, if he let go of anything. Even as tightly as he clutched to everything he held within, little bits and pieces slipped through. His confusion, his uncertainty. None of it was meant for Malhin, none of it was even about Malhin, truly. He had meant those words he’d spoken, of wanting the whole of her. The punch drunk, and rowdy Bjarni woman. The huntress, and the foul-mouthed spitfire. The human whirlwind, who’s chaotic storm would whip around them for as long as they drew breath. He wanted all those aspects of her, and more. The unknown, the undiscovered, and the hidden. Yet, those jumbled, hesitant thoughts he tried so poorly to share? They were more about the situation, than the woman. Would she believe that though?

At the very least, it seemed as if he would get the chance to explain. His words had died down around them, and the silence held clear until Malhin turned to face him. He could tell that she hung to her anger as well as he did. The way that her fists clenched, the stony edge to her voice. Those glacial eyes, that just could not hide the depth of feeling she was going through. It was a unique situation, this. Malhin was giving him time to explain himself. Words, over actions? He was surprised, and yet at the same time he understood where she was coming from. How long had they danced around each other? The snows had just begun to fall when he’d arrived in these lands. Though he hadn’t met the Bjarni spitfire until the icy winds had settled proper over the city. With the heat of summer just beginning to find them, that placed them at close to…six months, perhaps? Time was very much a spectre to him, there was little reason to keep track of it in a life that was dedicated to the road. This was the first time since his loss, that he stayed in one place for so long. Was six months not long enough? Long enough to make them tired of fighting? Long enough for them to want some clarity, and some honesty?

He was being given that chance, and as he released a breath that he hadn’t even been aware he was holding, he began to make use of it. “This isn’t fair, to you.” Would she find it odd that he would say that? The woman who had spent the morning telling him to simply get over his greatest tragedy. The woman he’d contemplated striking not thirty minutes ago, the woman he had just attempted to walk out on. Would it be strange, that once he put honest words to his feelings, that he was worried about this whole situation being unfair to her? “I’ve hurt you, and that isn’t fair to you…but I want to be selfish. I don’t want to hold myself back anymore, I don’t want to linger in this world of half-truths we’ve built for ourselves. I don’t want us to walk away from each other today, wondering how we feel. So I’ll say it again, plainly. I want you, Malhin.” He made no move to approach the woman as he spoke, feeling that slight bit of distance between them was for the best. Those dark orbs of his settled on those glacier pools as he began to speak, and he refused to let her go until he’d finished saying his piece.

There was so much in his eyes right now, that they would be hard to read. That glint of anger was still there, a glimmer of confusion, the faintest sign of hesitation. The look in his eyes ran the emotional gamut, but there was one thing held In the deepest core of his gaze that wasn’t there before. Resolution. The resolution to see through this cacophony of events, the resolution that he would speak plainly, and clearly before they parted ways. He would not brook more confusion settling between them. All the confusion they created, all the anger that they waded through together, it had done so much to confuse the situation. Even if they still parted ways furious with each other, he would have her know exactly how he felt. “I’ll say it as many times, as you need to hear it.” He was trying. Trying so hard to be clear. Trying so hard not to let his negative thoughts overpower the core of his message. Was he still angry? Very much so. Was he still hurt? It would be silly to think otherwise. Just for now though, for these few moments, he would set aside those feelings, and acknowledge that there was something bigger than just himself right now. Later…later, he could be furious again.