Jealousy - Orion (Patreon)

Orion isn’t sure what he expected to see when he turned around, but this wasn’t on the list.

This past week, you’ve apparently come to enjoy watching him train. Your arm is still healing from a wound, so you can’t simply join him like usual. Still, you claim to like sitting on the sidelines and staring at him while he hacks away at dummies.

So he turns, expecting your eyes to be on him. Maybe it’s a rush, if he’s honest. He likes knowing you want to be around him, you want to see him.

Except your eyes aren’t on him this time. A knight stands by where you sit, talking his head off while you watch him with furrowed brows.

There’s an ugly urge stirring in his mind; Orion wants the knight away from you, wants to smooth the disconcerted crease between your brows out with his fingers. He wants your eyes back on him.

When the knight moves closer, looking like he might sit beside you, Orion sees the small grimace you try to hide. The expression on your face is clear; this isn’t what you want to be doing.

Your eyes dart over to him quickly, pleading, and he’s nothing if not at your beck and call.

The knight notices him immediately as Orion approaches, wooden sword still in hand. The man pales, snapping upright.

“General!” He says, eyes wide, “I was, uh, just leaving. I bid you both a good day!”

He practically flees, and you’re at least courteous enough to wait until he’s beyond earshot to burst out laughing.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Orion automatically defends himself.

“The look alone was enough,” You pat his cheek gently.

Orion leans into your warm touch, satisfaction curling deep in his chest. He’s been hunting for light his entire life yet you seem to have an endless supply to grace him with. A treasure in a world where he finds little has any actual worth.

You huff at the reaction, an amused noise, and both your hands are on his cheeks then. You tug his face toward you, pressing a kiss to his brow.

“I did not mean to scare him away,” He says, just in case he had misread your intentions.

You raise an eyebrow and he knows that wasn’t the case.

“You did me a favor,” You say drolly, “If I was to hear another word about the man’s new custom made arrows, I’d have needed to ask for one to be put between my eyes.”

“You spend too much time with Rowan,” Orion sighs, but can’t help the chuckle that escapes a moment later, “Well, I suppose I’m glad I ended your misery before you were forced into more drastic measures.”

“Quite,” You say, grinning, “Speaking of Rowan, I don’t think they’d be pleased to have to reanimate my corpse again.”

He rolls his eyes at the crude joke. He hardly likes thinking about your literal corpse, but humor seems to help you cope. At least you don’t wake up screaming anymore. Those early days, before you fell into each other’s beds, were made harder by his want and simultaneous fear of comforting you.

He’d been taught vulnerability was weakness. You showed him the opposite; brilliantly soft and emotional yet terrifyingly powerful. A combination he wasn’t sure could exist before, but you do seem to have a knack at making him believe.

“I do fear he might have soiled himself, however. I think I saw his soul leave his body when he caught sight of you.” You continue, head tilted in coy amusement.

“He’ll be fine.” Orion says, deadpan, as you take him by the hand and pull him along.

“Come, now, you’re having a bath and then we’re making dinner.” You inform him promptly, “I’m showing you the secret behind croissants today.”

“Do you even know how to make those?” He asks, glancing at you curiously as you walk on.

“No,” You say briskly, “But Kira does and she described it once, so I think we’ll figure it out.”

You had said the same about tea cakes, yet there was almost a small fire in the kitchens on that evening. Regardless, he tries to keep his hopes high.

“Of course,” He agrees easily despite the knowledge of your past failures.

Perhaps luckily for the cooks, the two of you never make it to the kitchens. Warm water and slick skin end up being far too distracting to think of being elsewhere.