The Unicorn Pawed The Ground, Aggrivated. I Didn't Know Much About Animals But I Was Taking This As A

Decay exists as an extant form of life

As we neared the next building in the abandoned town, the highwayman just offered me a hankie.

"Um. Why?" I questioned him as a light flurry fell between us.

"You've sneezed every time we go from direct sunlight," he told me as he looked up to the partially cloudy skies above, "into a building and vice versa."

Why would he care if I sneezed or not? It's just sneezing. Although, I never noticed that I did that before.

"Just get going," he muttered when he caught sight of my expression. But there was something else in his tone. He wasn't angry like I thought he'd be.

"Thank you," I whispered as I took the hankie; processing what I realized.

"You can thank me when we get to where we need to be."

Like he predicted, when we crossed into the threshold of the building, I sneezed.

I looked down at the young boy my brother found in the streets with no one to care for him and I wondered how he could sleep through such an earth - shattering thunderstorm.

What had he been through for this to be peaceful?

Or is it the fact that he was finally safe that kept him calm?

The only thing I've seen about this kid is his autumnal colored hair.

As I walked out under the night sky, I muttered a prayer. It wasn't continuous but mainly when ever I saw something that caught my eye, I'd say a quick little thank you prayer for it being created.

When I'd get back from my walks, I always felt better and ever grateful.

I’ve not seen any starved touched hero stories so may I request a starved touched hero and the villain finds out and helps them. It’s fine if not:)

"Tell me," the villain murmured, as the hero's breath came out quivering. "When was the last time that someone touched you?"

It wasn't what the hero had expected.

"People touch me all the time."

"Kindly."

"You're not kind."

But the villain's touch was such a gentle thing; the hero's brain refused to register it as cruelty, even as the villain's fingers were curled around their throat. They didn't squeeze though.

The hero should have pulled back already. They should have shoved the villain away. They did none of those things. They leaned limp against the wall, almost hypnotised by the back and forth sweep of the villain's thumb brushing sweetly against their pulse point.

It was pitiful for a nice threat to feel like affection. They were pitiful.

The villain's gaze was intent.

"What are you doing to me?" the hero whispered.

"I'm not doing anything." The villain's powers worked with touch, but they had never touched the hero before. The hero had always been too quick. The villain had managed that time though, advancing, shoving the hero to the wall and then - then this. The villain had touched their skin and then they'd gone perfectly still for a few seconds. The villain could expose all secrets with a press of their fingers, do all manner of things, but...

The hero swallowed, eyeing them. They genuinely didn't think the villain was doing anything.

Each second that ticked by seemed a confession, a betrayal, a plea for something.

The villain's hand slid slowly to to cup the nape of the hero's neck. "You didn't answer my question." The villain pulled the hero a step closer, dragged them flush. The villain's other hand wrapped around the hero's back.

They were being hugged.

A confused, entirely too soft sound left the hero's throat. Questioning. A little choked. It felt like a trap and it felt entirely too desperately lovely.

The villain tightened their grip, tucking the hero's head against their shoulder.

"Skin hunger," the villain said, softly. "Touch starvation. You are a famine, love, I can feel it."

"I-" The hero didn't know how to finish the sentence. The villain was so warm against them, a solid and reassuring presence. That couldn't be right. "What?"

"It has been entirely too long, hasn't it?"

"You're not doing anything?"

"I'm hugging you."

"Your powers-"

"-Mean I know exactly how you are feeling. How much you need this. So are you going to be good and shut up and let yourself have it?"

The hero choked out another gasp of air.

Was that was why the villain had stopped? Why they'd seemed to switch gears so abruptly when they could have finally won? The hero swallowed and shut up, even if it was a bad idea. Inch by inch, when the villain did nothing more but hold them, the hero relaxed. They melted.

"Why are you doing this?" the hero managed, pressing their face against the promise of the villain's shoulder.

"Kindness?"

"You're not kind."

The villain huffed, breath rustling the hero's hair. They pressed a kiss atop the hero's head. "Mm. Temporarily benevolent. No strings attached, pinky promise."

It was definitely suspicious, but it really did feel so unbelievably good. The hero felt like they'd settled into their bones for the first time in years. Maybe longer.

They really couldn't remember the last time someone touched them kindly, for an extended period of time. A brush of accidental touch in a crowd. A hairdresser's clinical contact. None of it was anything like what the villain gave them.

"That's better," the villain said, with a sigh. "Your nerve endings have stopped screaming at me."

"S-sorry. I-"

"It was merely an observation. You don't need to be sorry."

The hero expected the villain to get back to it, or step back. They didn't. It was probably the longest hug in the world.

Finally, the hero let themselves reach out, wrapping their arms around the villain in turn.

"Good," the villain said.

"Are we still...I shouldn't let you touch me. I'm not stupid."

"No."

"Are you going to let go of me?"

"When you actually want me to, sure."

"And you can...feel that?"

"Yes."

The hero squirmed with embarrassment. The villain tightened their grip again. The hero went still.

"Years," the hero whispered, finally. "It's been years. I can't remember the last time."

"Mm." The villain nuzzled into them. "That's not going to happen again. I don't believe in torture."

Neither of them much felt like fighting when they finally broke apart.

The flowers proudly displayed their colors. From the delicate daisy to the graceful Sakura.

I reached up to a flowering apple tree and with tender love murmured, "Absolutely beautiful, darling."

Tomorrow, I knew the apple tree would give more blossoms. After all, what living thing doesn't want to be praised?

I came back to our little camp to find him with his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I set the gathered food down.

"I hurt you," he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" What was he talking about?

"I caused you physical pain." He clenched his fists tight.

I could still feel the burn every now and again. I sat down directly beside him.

"I do the same thing to some of the plants I watch over," I told him, staring into the fire. "Sometimes, the best thing I can do for them is to cut an infected part off and burn it because there's nothing else I can do," I explained before he could ask.

"Still doesn't justify my behavior," he muttered.

"Well, I don't like the pain and it sometimes bothers me," I started, referring to the injury he gave me earlier, "but I forgive you."

He met my gaze before he asked, "Why?"

"You're going to make mistakes some as me, granted different from mine. But life and time are just that way - unforgiving. I think it's easier to get through a day if people are more forgiving."

He stayed silent.

"You going to be okay?"

He rested his head on my shoulder and whispered, "Yeah. Just processing."

"You're going to be okay," I told him, letting him take however long he needs to figure it out.

Broken stones that stay in the same general shape are wonderful. There's an opportunity for something beautiful to grow in between the cracks of something so tragic.

How can this be? This is the fifth report that I've gotten.

"May I ask you something?" I questioned the highwayman once we stopped to rest.

"That depends on what you're asking," he mumbled as he laid back and draped an arm over his eyes.

"I have been hearing reports of periodic darkness in areas that we have traveled through." The smoothness of the stone that I was sitting on was a little bit of comfort.

"That isn't a question," he retorted. There was something off in his voice. He almost sounded like the nymphs that gave me the reports and sightings.

"Did you cause those periods of darkness over those areas?" There were a lot of things I needed to know but the first was if he was the cause of it. "There aren't any plant mages in the area to cause that and it's too far away for me to do anything like that."

"I shouldn't be the source of it, no." He sat up and rested his head against the palm of his hand.

"Is it bad? Will it be harmful to those living in the area?"

"How did you even hear about the darkness forming?"

"The plants have a complex system for communication through their roots. They talk to each other that way. The nymphs live inside the trees and they told me."

"How long does it last?"

"Almost a whole cycle."

He sat there in silence before raising his head and answering, "They don't have to be worried. It isn't anything dangerous. It'll keep happening and probably follow us. I don't know why it does but... It's nothing to worry about and they can rest during that time."

I moved so I was seated next to him. "But what is it?"

"A myth for you and reality for me."

I knew he wasn't going to say anything else about it and deadpanned, "You're helpful."

He flashed a smile as he said, "I try, sweetheart."