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[fieldbox="Dragovich Vollrath, #99001C, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]As ever the response to his fumbling with simple everyday tasks was gracious and attentive. For that Dragovich was and for ever would be eternally grateful for Sibylla's companionship. She was something of an inspiration at times. No matter how much she did, the boundaries of her generosity seemed nigh nonexistent. It was occasionally the source of much worry for Drago. He feared more than anything his lover's incredible benevolence would come at the cost of her own well being. As she roused form her slumber to answer Dragovich's call he felt a twinge of guilt make a jab at him. He had thought she was already awake but from the look of it he had been mistaken. Despite what she said Dragovich could not help but feel the worry creep into his heart and begin to tighten it's vice like grip. "A-are you sure? I had thought...I didn't mean to wake you."
Interrupting what little rest Sibylla allowed herself seemed was a crime of epic proportions. As far as Dragovich was concerned, this was one of many strikes he ascribed to his record in this relationship. Not only had he disturbed her sleep he'd not been around enough to help instill that sense of normalcy this life so desperately needed. Perhaps if he'd made more trips to visit her while she worked or something of that nature, it might lend reason to maintaining a more regular schedule, be it for rest or otherwise. The anxieties that so loved to poke and prod at every possible entry into his mind bored deep as he considered all of the alternative paths he could of taken. Every minute action and mistake made evident in a matter of seconds. Some of thee concerns were valid but many of them were hyperbole and pitfalls designed by the malfunctioning machinations of his well worn psyche.
He was in a whirlwind of invasive little notions, each unassuming on it's own but en masse their venomous little bites could fell even the mightiest of beings. Dragovich's world seemed to move in slow motion as he unconsciously began to weave yet another web of torment he'd undoubtedly ensnare himself in. His gaze went from the floor, to every darkened corner of the room, searching for some place to focus his attention fearing that perhaps if he made eye contact he'd broadcast all his insecurities to his beloved as though they could read his mind. Though try as he might to avoid it, his sights soon drifted back toward Sibylla. She of course did what she always did for him, since the day he'd met her. Back they were little more than insubordinate soldiers in neighboring cells. He was the repeated offender and she a new edition. She had the voice that could soothe the savage beast and the words she spoke carried hope with them.
With a gesture as simple as a smile, the cold tendrils of his uncertainties became as ash and cinders in Sibylla's radiance. It always struck Drago as strange that she had such an effect on him, he'd often jest with himself the idea of a magical charm being at work. Alas this was no spell nor a siren song. It was something special in its simplicity. It was love that captured his heart and calmed his turbulent soul in his darkest hours. For a moment as Sibylla extracted herself from the sheets of their bed and approached him, his mind drifted back to the day they met. He could remember every detail as if it had been only five minutes ago.
She had been welcoming and warm despite the yoke of tyranny that loomed over their heads. The cold and the dark of the prison cells was no match for the mote of sunlight she seemed to bring with her. Dragovich had been ready to hate her as much as he hated everyone else in that god forsaken place. He barely remembered if they'd crossed paths prior,but she surprised him with her grace. Gentle and polite, she'd been so unlike the others he'd been forced to work with. And twice as different from those that had shared the cell next to him. She brought with her pleasantries and an air of freedom, everyone else spat insults and venom his way.
After a few moments the memory faded from his mind, leaving only the image of his beloved. The fluttering in his chest intensified as she stepped even closer, adjusting his attire ever so carefully. Dragovich found himself far too distracted to take note of what ever subtle changes were being made to the state of his tie, sure he should have but he found himself transfixed on the visage of his partner as she worked to rectify his mistakes. " Thank you." he muttered nervously. Dragovich had thought to draw out his thanks in as poetic a fashion as he had been greeted, but his words were cast into oblivion as he was silenced with a kiss.
He returned the gesture with gusto as the fluttering his chest threatened to burst from his body in a crescendo of saccharine sentiment. Perfect, she had said. Drago smiled softly at her words, the overwhelming urge to try his hand at amateurish poetry finally wrested control from the rest of him. "It can only be perfect because you are here. Without you my life and my tie would be hopelessly the lesser." he cooed just before he leaned in to kiss her a second time. Part of him felt strangely guilty for enjoying moments like this as much as he did. Often feeling like perhaps he enjoyed the dramatics a little too much. To many others such exchanges might of seemed to be perhaps excessive or perhaps a tad mawkish. He remembered hearing talk of such habits being typical of newly formed relationships, that it was a sharp blade whose edge would soon dull with time.
Yet even after so many years of their closeness the two of them had yet to shed the theatrics from their routine. It was refreshing to be expressive even if it was sometimes cringe inducing in the aftermath. It was after all no one's business but their own. In the time he'd been trying to refine his skill with both the written and the spoken word, to better lend to these moments he'd come across an interesting quote from an artist. 'The first man to compare the cheeks of a young woman to a rose was obviously a poet; the first to repeat it was possibly an idiot.'
He didn't understand it at first but with time he came to see what they had meant, repetition was something that would quickly cheapen and destroy the message behind such thoughts. The way Dragovich saw it there are likely few original ideas left to be had, and so if he complimented the one he loved in such a way that would label him a fool, then he would gladly proclaim his idiocy. Dragovich smiled broadly once they parted from the kiss, his spirits lifting considerably. "So, my muse. Sibylla, are you looking forward to the event? I'm not fond of gatherings, but I can make exceptions since I'll be with you. Unless you wanted to simply stay here. I'd be just fine with that as well." he hinted with an impish grin.
All the while Dragovich wrapped his arms around Sibylla, gently pulling her into a hug. "In all seriousness though. You are certain you've had enough rest? You've been working quite a lot lately. I don't mean to bother you with it, I'm just...concerned is all...hrmm. I still need to get the time to take you out one of these days. Like away from the base, someplace nice, someplace different. Or maybe we pay your family visit...or maybe..." he prattled on softly, easily losing himself to a myriad of when's and where's. Eventually realizing he was likely delaying Sibylla from getting ready to attend the mixer. Despite knowing it might be holding them up, Drago was reluctant to release his hold on the embrace. Swaying back and forth from one side to another ever so gently he continued to hug his dearest.
"I realize I might of started getting ready to go a tad early. I didn't want to bother you and all....but perhaps I should of waited until...never mind. I migth still be holding you up, though. Sorry. I just rather like being close to you, you know? Well....enough of that yeah?" he said in mock misery, offering Sibylla a roguish wink before loosening his embrace and taking a step back. "My only wishes now are that we will have a chance to dance together and that I may have a hope of measuring up to your beauty. I wouldn't want to drag you down." he added with a playful chuckle.
Location:His Room
Company:Sibylla
Status:Decidedly more calm, a tad playful.
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[fieldbox="Eliza Bitter, #055252, solid, 10, Palatino Linotype"]