Just what kind of life did Byrne lead when she wasn't around annoying him? Except it seemed like in the more recent days, she wasn't doing that so much. She couldn't say what it was, but when she spent time with him, she felt an odd type of calm about her. When they had first met, she'd had an irresistible urge to do absolutely everything she could to annoy him. And it hadn't been hard to do. In fact, just opening her mouth seemed to piss him off, and the angrier he got, the more she enjoyed it.
Then there came the day she returned from the oceans of sand, aware of her 'destiny.' A heavily weighted word. Reality certainly seemed a little less forgiving with her return. All the more so when Byrne had found a door Nabooru had not opened. Not for lack of want, but more of a yearning to distinguish herself in every which way from the rest of her kin. She was no mere Gerudo woman. She was not like every other one. She was unique and one of a kind.
Byrne had not liked her destiny, had not seen the point to her going along and 'surrendering' to it. Yes. He'd probably seen it as her 'surrendering' to a power greater than hers. He couldn't have done it. She knew that. In those respects, she saw herself - and truly believed it - as stronger.
It was really too easy to lose herself in the past. To drown in those thoughts that she often held underneath a blanket of confidence and arrogance. Yet he just as conveniently yanked her from them when she realised he was toying with her hair. Nabooru eyed him, wordless, but a little amused that he found something intriguing in order to play upon her in such a way. He was not an affectionate man. Not unless it was really for his benefit. But he respected her, and she knew that well enough. And appreciated it.
And as if he played the part of the male spider with the female, she could only define his motions as 'cautious.' A delightfully nerve-racking kind of cautious. For she couldn't remember the last time she'd been kissed and genuinely felt her chest tighten. So that was the weight of love, was it? The kind of pressure that sat on her very heart and made her every reciprocation a kind of gentle hesitance. Nabooru wasn't against the idea of a kiss, however, as indicative by the very way her mouth curved a little after meeting his.
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Just what kind of life did Byrne lead when she wasn't around annoying him? Except it seemed like in the more recent days, she wasn't doing that so much. She couldn't say what it was, but when she spent time with him, she felt an odd type of calm about her. When they had first met, she'd had an irresistible urge to do absolutely everything she could to annoy him. And it hadn't been hard to do. In fact, just opening her mouth seemed to piss him off, and the angrier he got, the more she enjoyed it.
Then there came the day she returned from the oceans of sand, aware of her 'destiny.' A heavily weighted word. Reality certainly seemed a little less forgiving with her return. All the more so when Byrne had found a door Nabooru had not opened. Not for lack of want, but more of a yearning to distinguish herself in every which way from the rest of her kin. She was no mere Gerudo woman. She was not like every other one. She was unique and one of a kind.
Byrne had not liked her destiny, had not seen the point to her going along and 'surrendering' to it. Yes. He'd probably seen it as her 'surrendering' to a power greater than hers. He couldn't have done it. She knew that. In those respects, she saw herself - and truly believed it - as stronger.
It was really too easy to lose herself in the past. To drown in those thoughts that she often held underneath a blanket of confidence and arrogance. Yet he just as conveniently yanked her from them when she realised he was toying with her hair. Nabooru eyed him, wordless, but a little amused that he found something intriguing in order to play upon her in such a way. He was not an affectionate man. Not unless it was really for his benefit. But he respected her, and she knew that well enough. And appreciated it.
And as if he played the part of the male spider with the female, she could only define his motions as 'cautious.' A delightfully nerve-racking kind of cautious. For she couldn't remember the last time she'd been kissed and genuinely felt her chest tighten. So that was the weight of love, was it? The kind of pressure that sat on her very heart and made her every reciprocation a kind of gentle hesitance. Nabooru wasn't against the idea of a kiss, however, as indicative by the very way her mouth curved a little after meeting his.