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[Arahim]

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Far enough removed from the walled off center of Nujel'm proper, so as to seem its own quiet civilization, Arahim smiled to himself in the half-light of a shared, beachfront cottage, as Cezanne took her turn whispering secrets and stories.

The soothing sounds of surf upon sand coloring her every word. Creating a rise and fall cadence twining about their every shared laugh, and look. Painting an unassuming backdrop to the stilled moments where no explanation, or stray scrap on conversation seemed necessary or even needed.

The small, pre-dawn hours idled down laconic, and heedless to the wants or needs of the larger world past the seas that surrounded them. The familiar places outside that they had both agreed to leave behind if not just for this one night.

Both lay facing the other on soft bedrolls spaced an arm's length apart. Cezanne wrapped loosely in his dark cloak.

She sketched swirls and circles in the thin sand on the floor between them. Unconsciously bridging an unspoken barrier that if put name to, would mean very little to who they were, or why they had found one another again.

A cool, salt dappled breeze traced long, feathery touches across them. Filling the room easily.

Tentatively.

Shutting his eyes to the draft, Arahim stifled a fit of shivers, and tucked his hands between his knees as he drew up his legs. Losing his smile to concentration for no more than a heartbeat.

"You're chilly." Cezanne whispered, "We could hang your cloak over the door to keep the wind at bay. A little at least."

Arahim shook his head with a wry smile.

"Your dress or nothing else," he joked.

Standing immediately, Cezanne twisted both arms behind her, fumbling at the small silver buttons on her dress. One over her head, plucking at her neckline, the other folded at the small of her back.

Deadpan, and spinning dangerously, she arched backwards, her auburn hair spilling over her hands in a tangle of carefree waves that caught the moon's milky light slanting through the windows, and kept it.

"Help me." she breathed.

Laughing helplessly, he swiped twice for her hand. Cezanne snaking her body just out of reach each time, until he stood and wrestled her grip away from undressing. Interspersing pointed fingers into her sides and belly, until she squealed with choking giggles, and began to fight him off!

Shushing her between his own snorts of laughter, and shooting guilty glances at the doorway as if waiting to be admonished, Arahim leaned against the far wall, and held up his hands in mock surrender.

"I'm fine," he said, catching his breath, "It was just a draft. You'll be cold without my cloak-blanket. Colder still without...Well, without."

Cezanne plopped straight down onto her bedroll into a cross-legged position. She exaggerated a pitiful pout, and resumed their whispery conversation.

"You're more prude than I remember."

"Am I?" he asked, seriously.

"Mmmmhm."

Laying back down, Arahim looked at the ceiling, breathing a quiet laugh through his nose.

"I don't remember ever being prude."

"I'm teasing you, Ara." she replied softly.

Moments passed into minutes with Cezanne watching Arahim as if waiting for something, until she again found her voice.

"Come here." she said while lifting the makeshift covers in invitation, "You keep me warm tonight, alright?"

Arahim closed his eyes, accepting her completely as she arranged the cloak over them. Curling up close to her, he laid his head against her chest, and clutched tightly at her dress.

Finding her place with him, Cezanne turned on her side to face him, cradled his head, and lay her cheek in his hair. Scooting her leg in between his, she listened to him breathe, and let him be.

Sleep crept upon them both in tiny, building increments until Cezanne could no longer bear the weight of her own eyes.

Hoping not to stir him, she kissed Arahim's forehead, as he rooted closer to her.

"We'll miss the sunrise," he said drowsily, without opening his eyes.

"We'll only miss this one," she promised, "Just this once."

[Cezanne Abella]

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Pat. Patpatpat. Pat.

Slowly, Cezanne surfaced from the abyssal dreams that confused and betrayed her.

Pat pat pat!

Her eyes flew open with a start. The palest haze of dawn was already settling on the tiny room. On the floor directly in front of her face lay Althea, the fluffy black cat huddled Sphinx-like and staring at her with wide gold eyes. Too close for Cezanne to even focus on the delicately-fixated features of her companion.

Arahim lay huddled scarcely a foot away, wrapped fitfully in his cloak-blanket, and breathing slowly in the recesses of slumber. Cezanne’s long dark hair lay splayed across her pillow, tousled by the spectral paws that woke her with their play. She reached out and stroked Althea gently, and wide, gold eyes in the darkness, closed blissfully.

The tendrils of morning were reaching stealthily in through the window and open doorway. Cezanne arose silently so as not to wake Arahim, and walked barefoot across the sand-sprinkled tile to the door as Althea stood and stretched a grand, arching stretch that she envied, then trotted to Cezanne’s feet as she ventured outside into the quietly waking world alone.

Cezanne found an isolated sand dune, painted in hues of blood-rose by the coming aurora, and seated herself, curling up her knees and wrapping her legs tightly in the thin linen of her skirt to stave off the chill. Althea snaked her way into the sliver of lap created between her belly and her thighs, and settled in, finding the place warm and safe. Cezanne stroked the cat’s head and scratched her ears as the wind off the surf carried in spray-cooled gusts that fluttered her dress and tossed her hair carelessly, making her shiver.

And then, without more fanfare than a single breath, the brilliant gold of the sun peeked from beneath the depths of the sea. Silently, the shining orb slipped from the waves, illuminating and warming her face with its rosy brilliance.

In her makeshift crevice of lap, Althea lay purring blissfully, eyes closed, oblivious to way the sunrise painted her human girl. Come what may…in this moment, she was happy. And in this single moment, that was all that really mattered.