Azahr leaned back, fingers lifting from the page to shove through his hair. He was growing more frustrated as the day wore on. This shouldn't be so hard, he mourned. But how could he study the ancient glyphs when a certain face held the majority of his attention? Azahr shook his head and blinked hard. This was foolish. Finish the work. A chill traced over his skin. Yes, he had to work. It was almost an echo in the small room that he called his apartment.

But some things were stubborn and his memory danced back in time instead of focusing forward. It had happened in the Red Dragon. He'd gone to the inn for the same reason he always went to the inn; to see friends and enjoy the warm fire. Sometimes he saw his cousins, sometimes others he'd started to count as special; the man with the silks, the silver haired elfess who always seemed to have a smile for him, the good doctor that seemed such a gentle soul. Those were the ones he went to see. He wasn't counting on chance meetings.

At that thought gray eyes danced over his shoulder toward his bed, a smile teasing at his lips. Azahr pushed away from the desk, leaving the chair to drop into the squeaky bed. He rolled onto his stomach and rested his face in the pillow, inhaling deeply. He held his breath for a moment then flopped over onto his back. The exhale came with a blossoming grin, fingers lacing on his chest.

Azahr liked fruit of all kind but at the moment he found himself more taken with strawberries than ever before. His eyes closed, lips still wearing a smile turned almost dreamy.

The couch, press of a body next to his, the warmth of the fire and murmurs of conversation, questions came and answered .. all mingling with the ever so faint scent of strawberries. A walk home, fingers touching. Cinnamon and nutmeg. Again with the press of a body against his, more strawberry. His eyes drifted closed as the memories continued. Murmurs, fingertips on skin and a happy tangle of an extended cuddle followed by a sweet peaceful slumber. Breakfast with icing and sweets for his new friend. A friend that had pretty much derailed his ability to think straight on the task at hand.

The apartment seemed colder, emptier without Cole's presence, voice and energy. Azahr's chest rose and fell on a sigh, fingers dancing on his chest. No distractions, something tugged inside. He argued with that insistent impression, Cole was not a distraction. Azahr felt more centered than he'd felt in a long time, warmer even. It was a feeling that was only marred by the distinct longing for a repeat. A repeat and, well, who knew what else? Cole had seemed willing to get together again and Azahr found himself hoping for it more and more. His eyes drifted closed; a quick happy sigh. Slumber took him once more into a gentle place of happy dreams.

Ensconced in his dreams, he didn't notice the pages of the book fluttering.

With one arm under his head and the other carelessly across his own chest, Azahr lay on his back with eyes focused upward as thoughts tumbled between his ears. How long had he known Cole and already he couldn't imagine a day without him? Azahr drew in a slow breath and exhaled quietly. He felt the smile and knowing who the cause was only made it grow.

There were moments when it was overwhelming and it stole his breath causing his heart to miss a beat. Cole was so precious but did he have the right to say anything? Azahr didn't want to interfere with Cole's life almost as much as he was desperate to be a part of it. Surely Cole knew he was special to him, right? Surely Cole knew that Azahr didn't want to spend a day without seeing him? He wanted to share his own history and family with Cole. He even found he wanted to share memories with Cole; memories of special people - like Shazir.

Azahr's fingers brushed down his own chest until they encountered the warm golden metal of his navel jewelry. Hard to exactly call it a ring since the scorpion was almost an inch and a half long. He remembered getting it with a smile turned fond. It had marked the last gift he'd received before tragedy. It was special because of it.

Azahr did not feel any competition inside his spirit. In truly thinking about it and giving it serious consideration, the memory of his love was still there, warm and familiar. It always would be there. The new memories with Cole were also warm. They were cherished and gave him a familiar glow inside. Before meeting Cole there had been occasional worry that maybe he'd already had his share of joy and perhaps he would never find it again like that.

If the truth be given thought, Azahr hadn't really even been looking for a someone to fill the void. He honored the memory of friends, family and his hearts-song by living his life without the mantle of overpowering grief. He did not dwell in the past. Sure, there were nights when he visited memories and longed for a return of those who were gone to him but Azahr knew they would be saddened if he did not continue to live and try to find happiness.

And then there was Cole.

He let his mind drift back to the beginning. So many almosts. Azahr had almost not gone to the inn that night. He'd almost not bought the candy. He'd almost left early. He'd almost not joined Cole on the couch. But he had, he had, he had and he had.

Another smile.

He'd not been with anyone intimately since he'd lost Shazir. He'd not really felt the pull or longing of it. He had friends, he made friends, he enjoyed being touched and sharing warmth but the sexual intimacy was just not something he yearned for. Until Cole. Their sharing had truly stirred him in those very same areas he never thought would feel quite that way again. The nights they'd shared, the touches and soft words, there again thinking of it caused his breath to be stolen and to yearn for Cole's active touch once more.

Was he in love? Could he be in love in so short a time?

Perhaps.

His eyes closed, the smile played with his lips.

His fingers were long. They were the sort that should be dancing across harp strings or over ivory piano keys. They often held books while he read. They were the focal point for the healing energies that he was able to pass to the injured. They were happiest when drifting along the flesh of a loved one. They were a lot of things. But at the moment, it was not what they were but what they were not.

They were not shaking. At least, not anymore. The problem was, he couldn't identify the thing that had caused the greater distress. There had been plenty the night before, unfortunately.

First there'd been the bony feline. Azahr'd been walking all along to the Inn minding his own business and then this .. this *thing* had come from nowhere. And there was no 'here kitty kitty' and offer it a saucer of cream either. The cursed thing had started chasing him. It didn't take much to make him run considering Crystal was carrying a sword and yelling and the thing looked like it was more than capable of causing hurt. He probably looked like the newest village idiot running like he had been.

He made a vow not to make too much fun of people and creatures fighting in the Inn from henceforward. He didn't know most of those who'd come to his aid but he did appreciate it. Huge. Lang he knew as a minstrel, he'd been the one playing the music when Azahr'd performed the Volta. During the ordeal people kept telling him to go inside but he couldn't abandon Crystal, not when she was in harms way. Azahr had not realized how adept at fighting Lang was although it was Crystal and an unknown other who brought the beast down.

Then he'd seen Cole. All alone and unprotected. What if there were more predators? He couldn't see Cole injured. The idea of something hurting Cole drove him to make sure that Cole found safety.

And then things went from bad to worse.

Azahr knew Crystal was hurt but she was uncooperative in letting him do anything for her. Cole grew silent and drifted away. Azahr felt all alone in the middle of a chasm. He couldn't tend to one without the other suffering in some manner. Crystal finally opted to remain in the inn overnight to allow herself rest and healing before attempting to wander through the night. Who knew if there were more of those things out there?

And then Cole.

Azahr'd been debating on whether or not he should just go himself, to let Cole have a night's peace. A part of him wanted desperately to comfort Cole and let him know that everything was all right but the other part of him was afraid of smothering Cole and of accidentally pushing him away because of being 'too much clingy'. Cole returned though. Azahr recalled thinking things would be okay.

But the conversation was not warm and cozy. More slippage toward disaster.

Once they started talking, Azahr began to dread the next words out of Cole's mouth. Distraction. Space. He might have said something else that Azahr couldn't quite remember, the panic was too loud in his ears. It only settled when he realized that Cole wasn't leaving him.

But his fingers continued to shake off and on for a long time afterward. It wasn't until after sleep with Cole pressed in against him and their limbs all tangled comfortably did the shakes go away. It hadn't been about sex that night. It was all about just holding Cole and being held. He desperately wanted that forever with Cole. He hadn't realized just how much until the idea of not having it was presented in such a real manner.

Azahr wanted Cole to be happy and relaxed and pampered. Azahr wanted to be the one making Cole happy, making sure he was relaxed and delivering the pampering. But if Cole wasn't, then something would have to change. Azahr blinked hard and breathed slowly around the tightening in his throat. It had been years since Shazir. Azahr had come to peace with the idea that he'd had his happiness and did not fight the quiet of being alone while others went on and found new loves. He did not feel 'lonely'. He enjoyed his friends, he loved his cousins, and he pursued his 'potential' with study. That was a good life, right?

But then came Cole. The depth of feeling that Cole had unlocked still stole Azahr's breath right away.

Azahr leaned forward, head resting on the desktop. For long moments he remained bowed forward. Deities he had long since been silent with received words of entreaty to please, oh please keep Cole safe. He begged and bartered during the largely one-sided conversation. At the end of it, he slowly straightened. He didn't feel much better per se but it had a sort of cleansing effect. He could not keep his eyes from wandering back to the empty and disheveled bed. Azahr could also not find it in himself to stay away from the tangle. He slid out of the chair with a graceful shift of body weight, his form drifting to the bed silent as a ghost.

He curled into the blankets and drew a deep breath inward. Strawberries. His eyes closed as he clung to it. The sweet sweet scent. If he concentrated, he could feel the warmth of the body that had left the scent.

He concentrated very hard and through it, drifted into slumber.

The book crackled when he opened it. Slender fingers brushed over the naked page to smooth it out, the surface unmarred by anything just yet. What would he write? He often saw Cole writing and there was a curiosity in what Cole would consider important enough to put to pen. Azahr did not ask, however. Those moments and whatever those thoughts were, they belonged to his lover and he didn't want to intrude on that special place.

Yet those thoughts about Cole and his writing prompted some of his own thoughts. What words of importance did he have? Azahr wasn't sure anything he said or did was of any great importance but the act of penning a thought to paper held a certain allure. He was not an artist and was not able to fully capture Cole's beauty in a sketch. Azahr knew better than to try. But words. He could craft words and perhaps impart a little of what his heart felt into something visible, tangible.

And still the page remained empty.

Recent events, moments shared, warmth in recalling Cole's face breaking into a smile .. they all raced through his mind. How could he pick only one to center upon? They were all special. They all filled his heart with hope.

Like the time he and Cole were curled on the couch together. There was a movie of some sort playing. Cole was tucked in next to him and he had his arm around the smaller man. The warmth of the moment was more than just tactile contact or a movie or the snacks they were consuming - it was the intimacy of simply sharing time together.

Or the morning that he'd woke Cole up with breakfast. Azahr had been so proud he'd managed to make the shortcake. The directions were not easy to read but he'd managed and the breakfast was a success. Cole on the bed with blankets all around tussled up, pillows haphazardly scattered .. and whipped cream on his nose and chin.

Chasing each other through the house, simply having fun with a chase that ended up with breathy kisses and a night of touches and whispered words.

He couldn't possibly give those moments justice with simply the written word. Azahr could not articulate how much they meant to him.

With that familiar crackle the book closed, the naked pages hidden from sight and as yet still unmarred. He set the quill down and put his hand to the cover of the book just resting palm there for a long moment. He would keep the moments in his heart where they belonged; where he could feel them and remember them clearly and hold them dear. Age might eventually steal the finer details but he would never be without the warmth they generated.