The Beach, Saint James, Barbados, Wednesday Night (Post-Party)

[deathsmajesty]

As expected, Liliana and Ignis left the party on the early side, though they didn't linger long in their room after they left. They stayed just long enough to grab a few things from their belongings and to make sure a few more things were readied for them to pick up on their way, and then they headed out to the beach. There, with a music box playing its usual tune, and a blanket set up with a platter of fresh fruits and a bottle of wine or two, they danced beneath the moonlight.

[For the gentleman (party and work willing) and artwork done by my amazing friend, Fofo!]

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[deathsmajesty]

"Survived is different than thrived, my 'Nys," Liliana murmured, her head tilted backwards to give him room for his search. "I will enjoy watching you flourish and thrive for the rest--" The slightest stumble. "The rest of our time together."

For the rest of your life was what she'd thought, but could not bring herself to say.

But she did raise his face to hers, kissing him desperately.

[chef_chocobro]

And of course Ignis caught that stumble, and he cursed himself for it, especially since he had wanted to say it that, yes, he'd survived without Ebony before, but he didn't believe he could do the same without her, but held his tongue for the harshness in the mirror of that sentiment, the expectation that she would have no choice but to, eventually, inevitably, go on without him.

But there they were, anyway.

And they didn't need to be. He could just tell her now, the real reason for all his meetings with Kristoff, he wanted so desperately to tell her that that time together could stretch itself even longer than the lives of those stars she would soon laying out for him across a canvas of her rich velvet words. But he still had so much work to do. There was still so much to figure out...

Olivia Voldaren was back to the forefront of his mind. He could probably go to her tomorrow and have it be done, just like that. But it of course wouldn't be that simple.

Of course, he could just tell her, confess it, but then she was kissing him with that undeniable desperation, and he knew that it couldn't be now. Not tonight. Not yet. Not like this.

So he just let her pour that desperation into him, and, oh, he poured his own right back into her, as well. A desperation to tell her that he was here now, ans that he'd be there for as long as she'd have him. A desperation for the promise he made to her, that he wasn't going to walk about, he wouldn't give up on them.

No matter what it takes.

But tonight would be reassurances in kisses, of making the most of time they did have. And later, there would be stars and stories of lights that spent eternities just to reach them, but now was all about making eternity out of a moment.