Milosh & Echo


Echo discovers something new about Milosh, and Milosh sees a Ghost.

Talk of death, sex implied


Happens about a seven before Javid and Aztrexia's Wedding


Igen Weyr, Caravan Grounds, Milosh's Wagon

OOC Date 06 Feb 2018 07:00


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Igen Caravan Grounds, Milosh's Wagon

Of course Milosh would have one of the more extravagant wagons in the Armida train. It's Milosh. His wagon is large, craftily built so that it extends when at rest and folds in for travel on the road. The back of the wagon is almost a separate room, with a wall and an open doorway. Colored beads hang in a curtain across the doorway, slightly obscuring the bed and chest of drawers contained within. The main space of the wagon is cozy. A heating brazier sits in the corner by the 'bedroom' wall and burns merrily, putting off the scent of sandalwood and something floral. There's a table and chairs, a small desc, a locked cabinet and a couple of trunks. A few cubbies in the wall sport things like flagons of wine, whiskey and rum. Saving the space with the brazier, there are brightly colored rugs on the floor and curtains to match on the windows.

Things have been changing lately. Ever changing. And the change doesn't seem to see an end. It's a terrifying aspect for a man who is used to being in control, to only going through change when he sets it in motion. Life seems to be spiralling out of Milosh’s control these days, and all he can do is ride the tide. And now, he's readying himself to move into a yurt from a wagon he's inhabited since he took his tests at eighteen. There are crates already outside with things like his clothing and bedding. But he still has to sort through what will stay and what will go and what will be stored in the wagon. There's a couple of chests, one large, and one very small, that he's been avoiding like the plague, remnants of a past too painful to even think about. He's pouring himself a drink currently, eyeing the larger trunk and fingering the key in his pocket. Half of him just wants to give the trunks away and not think about it and the other half… .the other half screams at the loss of such historic artifacture. What to do? It's a daunting question. He's lost in thought now, sipping at his whiskey in tense repose.

Echo is strolling through the Zingari camp, short leather jacket open to the milder weather the first day of spring seems to have brought with it. She had just finished her evening meal and then was slowly making her way back to her own wagon, no real plans for the evening, even her Sir is busy. With what? As if he tells her such things, she ponders with a little chuckle, but she doesn't mind. She's wearing his mark around her neck in the most beautiful necklace she’d ever laid eyes on. And the fact that she can wear it openly without fear makes it even more special for her. Uh oh, apparently in her wanderings she has managed to meander right on over to Milosh’s wagon. But what's this? Crates stacked around outside? How odd. Driven forward by pure curiosity, Echo inspects the crates with a raised eyebrow. Seeing nothing more than bedding and clothing gets her even more curious to find out what Milosh may be up to. And because he's always encouraged her to ask him anything, she walks right up to the door and gives it the special knock he’d taught her months ago. Then she waits, puzzling over the mystery of the crates.

Milosh starts, jumping as he looks at the door. He moves to answer, knowing who's at the door, and being distracted by his own thoughts that he leaves the key he'd been in the process of turning in the trunk lock. A few steps and he's across the wagon and swinging the door open to admit Echo. “Well Hullo Pet.” Once she's in hell let the door shut and move in after her. “Drink?” Had he been expecting her? Had he forgotten something? No. He'd been planning to see her later, after moving his things. “How's the day?” He asks, an eyebrow cocking up I'm question.

Echo smiles up to Milosh as he answers the door and obligingly moves into the wagon. Looking around, she takes in the familiar space of the wagon but then notices the two chests out. Interesting. When offered a drink, she smiles back at him, “A drink would be lovely Sir.” And then to his second question she answers, “Pretty good, busy as usual” she answers breezily since she has her own pressing question for Milosh. “So what's with the crates Sir? I mean I know they call it Spring cleaning but it doesn't need to happen on the very first day of Spring you know” she dares to tease him just a little bit, feeling more comfortable around him since the renegotiation of the terms of their relationship.

MIlosh moves to pour Echo a drink and tops off his own, nodding at Echo's recount of her day and chuckling at her comments on the crates. “I'm moving into a yurt. I was hoping to wait until tonight to tell you, but it seems I have drawn attention to myself.” There's more to his getting a yurt, but he hasn't found a way to bring that particular request up, so as of yet, it remains unasked. He hands Echo her drink and sips at his own. “Interested in helping?” He asks, half joking. He too seems less tense and apt to snap since their renegotiation.

Almond-shaped brown eyes widen as Milosh answers Echo’s questions, “That’s…” she struggles to find the right word through all the other questions that revelation brings up that all suddenly want to be asked. “…unexpected.” is all that she manages to come up with. “Well the crates outside were a small clue, Sir.” she says with a playful smile as she tilts her head to one side, taking the glass from him and sipping it. When asked to help, she giggles lightly, “And if I were to say no…” she asks with a playful tease to her voice and an eyebrow raised in question.

Milosh grins. “Aye, I suppose I should have moved those earlier.” He watches Echo as she drinks, grinning wolfishly at her while she teases. “Oh you are quite free to do so Pet, but it might make my palm twitchy.” He chuckles and knocks back his drink, eyes twinkling mischievously.

Echo scoffs, “Well that doesn’t help, I like your twitchy palm.” She says with a soft giggle as she takes another sip from her glass. “All joking aside, I would love to help you pack, Sir.” She says with a warm smile at him and taking another sip of her drink. “But what prompted this move sir? I mean, you have probably one of the nicest wagons I’ve ever been in.” she says as she looks around the space with all its memories.

Milosh gives Echo a wry grin at her first comment, palm indeed becoming twitchy, but they aren't going there just now, partially because Echo's next question has his attention. He looks around his wagon with a prideful grin, he's always been a bit vain about this place, but he has plans, and they require more space. “Perhaps I just wish to have more space to chase you in…” He taunts mischievously. There are reasons he can share with her, and ones he won't. Setting down his glass he moves towards Echo, not looking to start anything but needing to kiss her anyway, and he does, the thrill of plying her with his lips chasing away the shadows that had been looming before her arrival. “I would love the help Pet. Thank you.” He moves off and grabs one of the empty crates on the floor and moves to a trunk wide open, full of his darkly coloured adepts uniforms and some of his undercover gear. He begins moving it into a crate. “It's a damn shame I have to empty these to move them… Doubles the work but the trunks are heavy. If you wouldn't mind Pet, could you pack the liquor into that crate over there?” A few more things find their way into the crate. “Did I tell you that I made amends with your pussycat?”

His little taunt about chasing her brings a smile to Echo’s face, although she does silently note that he doesn’t really answer her question, but she has gotten used to that with him so she doesn’t press the subject any more for now. When he avances on her and plies her with a kiss, she sighs happily against his lips, pressing herself up against him briefly, eyes fluttering closed. Then when he moves off, she finishes her own drink, before looking at the empty crates and grabs one for herself before she starts to to fill it with his liquor bottles as instructed. When the subject of Daenerys suddenly comes up she raises an eyebrow high in question at that, “My pussycat? Since when is he my pussycat? I doubt anyone could claim ownership over that man.” she says with an easy laugh, as she continues the task of packing the liquor bottles. “And did you? Well I guess I can be glad of that. But..” And here she pauses and tries to put on a completely non-interested look and probably failing miserably, “did you talk about the possibility of the three of us….” and there she trails off because she is sure he knows what she is talking about.

Milosh chuckles at Echo's comments on Daenerys and nods. “Aye, well you may very well be right about that, but he is your friend Pet.” Milosh looks over at Echo, a grin crossing his features. “It may have come up.” He winks at her, she'll have to do better than that. He moves the full crate to the door and goes to fill another one.

Echo blinks a little bit when Milosh states that Daenerys is her friend and seems to be ok with this. Well, maybe they did work things out, she thinks surprised. Then he’s looming over her with that grin and it just makes her eyebrow raise in question. On his next comment though, she gets a little pout on her lips even after he gives her that wink, “May have come up? Well let’s say it did come up, was anything decided about whether we three might play again…soon?” She asks, maybe a smidge impatient. When he goes back to packing, she will as well, filling one crate and then moving it closer to the door as well.

While Milosh does give Echo a bit of a look for her impatience, he's laughing at it too. “I believe that Daenerys and I reached an agreement that would be pleasing to all involved.” He empties the trunk, filling his second crate near to the brim with the remaining items. Hauling the crate up, he moves it to the door and sets it down, turning to Echo he points at the crates, “I'm going to take these out, lest we get too crowded in here.” He then hauls the same crate backup and heads down the Couple of stairs to his door. When he swings it open, he hails a greeting to someone and steps out. The cart and runner he'd commissioned for the move is here. Milosh moves to greet the man dropping them off and to out the crates already outside in the cart.

Echo is conscious of that look and lowers her eyes briefly, wondering in she was being too bold, but then he's laughing and a smile plays on her lips when he confirms that they reached an agreement. She turns a little bit back to the task of packing up the liquor to hide a look of glee at the thought of being allowed to play with both men again. Then when he heads out with the carts, she calls back, “Ok Sir, I’ll just keep going then.” Unfortunately that was the last bottle packed and so after she moves the crate closer to the door, she grabs an empty one then looks around the wagon. The large chest with the key in the lock catches her eye and she shrugs, well he did say he needed to empty all the trunks.

So moving over to it, she sets the crate down before reaching out to turn the key in the lock and lift the lid. She doesn't know what she was expecting but what greets her is definitely not it. The first things she sees are women's clothes, a dress and some sort of performance outfit. Pulling these out, Echo puts them aside as her brows furrow more from curiosity than anything else. With the clothes out of the way, other items are revealed and the herder picks each one in turn, first what looks to be some baby clothes that someone was knitting, these she adds to the dresses. Then she sifts through some various baubles and jewelry, pulling out a small box and opening it to reveal a set of rings. Echo can feel the goosebumps forming on the back of her neck but then she spies a portrait, upside down in the bottom in the chest and pulls it out to look at it. When it is revealed to be a portrait of a pregnant woman, Echo’s brows furrowed further. Who is she? And are these her things? She places the portrait back in the chest and then turns back to the outfits. Curious, she pulls out the dress and unfolds it, holding it at arm's length. It's definitely pretty, probably for a special occasion. Unable to resist, she holds the dress up to her torso and looks down at herself, imagining what it would look like on. Yes… very pretty indeed.

Milosh is definitely a few minutes out there, moving crates and generally bullshitting with the other guy, but eventually he needs to come back in for the rest of the crates. He says a goodbye to the man and moves indoors. He comes into the wagon smiling, shaking his head at something the man outside had said. Lifting azure eyes to search for Echo, and for a split-second it’s not Echo he sees standing there, but a ghost from days long past. “Elena…” No….Elena is gone…Milosh shakes his head and it’s Echo standing there, his wife’s dress held to her torso. Something snaps a bit in Milosh and his azure gaze narrows, filling with immediate heat, his heart hammering against his chest as he tries to process the well of aggressively strong emotions that well up, and he’s fighting not to let it show. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He asks, his tone low and quiet, an edge of danger limning its timbre.

As she hears Milosh coming into the wagon, Echo turns instinctively towards the noise. When he looks at her though and calls her Elena, she blinks furiously at him for a moment, completely confused as she watches his gaze narrow at her and feels a wave of nervousness come over her. When his voice comes out, low with that edge of danger, she can feel her heart start to race. She lowers the dress and starts to fold it back up neatly and put it back into the chest as quickly as she can as she stammers, “I—I was done with the liquor and you said that all the trunks needed to be emptied. I was just trying to help.” Then she swiftly moves the items she had removed from the chest and place them back into it, “S-sorry Sir. It was such a pretty dress, I just wanted to see what it might look like on. I didn’t mean any harm.” Once everything is put back, she will take a step back from it, clasping her hands in front of her and dropping her eyes as she trembles slightly. She has never heard that particular tone in Milosh’s voice before, and it scares her.

The logical side of Milosh is trying to win here, really, it is. He struggles with keeping the instantaneous rage down, because Echo hadn’t known…she hadn't known. But the shadows in those chests are things Milosh has kept at bay for so long he’s near phobic of opening those chests….and now the largest stands open, Elena’s things glaring at him from the inside. And Echo…that dress had looked as if it might suit her, he didn’t realize until now how much she reminds him of Elena…perhaps why he thought he saw a ghost. All this thought and struggle to control himself happens while Echo quickly puts things away and makes her explanations. So much turmoil, but he must speak, must address this and it is hard to speak past the tightening of his throat. “Be advised Pet, if it has a lock on it, it means stay out of it.” Milosh stalks across the room and shuts the trunk lid with a loud thunk and moves back to the crates where he picks one up and disappears outside, kicking the door open on his way out.

He’s learning.

Jumping slightly when the lid shuts loudly, Echo is still frozen, but her eyes look up to take him in and nods at his words. “Yes Sir, I’ll remember that.” She says softly and then he is out the door again with more crates. Echo lifts a hand to her chest and places it over her racing heart. What just happened? She stands there for several long moments, just going over the events of the last few moments. Who was Elena? Obviously the woman in the painting. The pregnant woman. Her mind makes connections then rejects them out of hand as ridiculous. But there had been that little box with the matching rings, and the unfinished baby clothes. The conclusion she comes to is unfathomable. Finally able to move again, Echo makes her way to the glass she was drinking from, sees that it’s empty, but she knows where the liquor is, all packed up by the door, so she goes over and grabs the closest bottle and brings it back to the table where she pours herself a drink. And, almost automatically, pours one for Milosh as well. Lifting the glass to her mouth, her mind races. Dare she ask him about the contents of that chest? Or should she, like with so many things in his life, be resolved to always be on the outside, never fully let in?

Milosh moves to the cart and fits the crate in, still fighting his inner war. He scrubs at his face with his hands and runs one through his hair, pacing. He shouldn't have left the key in there, shouldn't have mentioned all the trunks need emptying… but she shouldn't have gone snooping… He is both infuriated and embarrassed at his own behavior. Elena's dead… gone… what is she going to care if Echo tries out her dress? She wouldn't have minded anyway… Milosh reminds himself, Probably would have given that dress to Echo right off her own back… His thoughts aren't helping as the void he found himself lost in after his wife's death threatens to suck him in again. Old wounds as fresh as the day they were inflicted rise up and threaten to drown Milosh in his own sorrow. Sighing heavily, he moves back indoors for another crate, a storm cloud gathering over his head. She would have found them sooner or later you idiot.. He chides himself, Were you not going to ask her to move in? What would you have done then spy, eh? His thoughts curb his need to rant and yell about the situation, because he feels privately violated, but at the same time…how can one move on in life while holding on to the ghosts of the past? And particularly, ghosts of the past that should have been mourned and put to rest long turns ago…but he'd loved Elena, with all his heart, despite the match being arranged when they were four and not seeing eachother again until they were seventeen,and he'd been inexorably excited to be a father. He got mere sevens to enjoy the elation before infection and firehead took them both. His Elena. His son. Both gone, both haunting him, that gap and void in his life large and looming and always present. No wonder he's such a bastard. He comes up the steps into the wagon and stops there, in front of the crates, watching Echo for a moment. Should he tell her why he got angry? Or keep his ghosts to himself? The questions leave him staring thoughtfully at the farrier, with a mixture of curiosity, heartache, anger and confusion running through his normally stoic features.

Completely lost in her own thoughts and sipping at her drink, Echo’s own mind races wildly in ways she hasn’t felt in months. She’s already convinced that she’s managed to do something unforgivable, that he is going to demand his necklace back from her, that she will never again be his. And that thought has a sizeable lump lodged in her throat that she tries to to ease with more liquor. A dull ache deep in her chest pulsates in time with her anxiety, a physical manifestation of her dread. Her glass starts to shake a little bit as she brings it back to her lips.

Maybe I should just go. Of course I managed to mess everything up again. Why would I do that? Let myself into a locked trunk? I would never have done that before…. Her thoughts trail off with a heavy sigh as she pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a couple of deeply cleansing breaths, trying to quiet her racing thoughts. But it's no good, she can't shake the feeling that she has somehow violated his trust, although with no intention of doing so, most things she manages to ruin, she does so without intention. With a groaning sigh, she places the glass down onto the table, and with a little shake of her head, she turns towards the door, determined to slip out while he's not there. Too late. Her eyes find him looking at her, as her breath catches in her throat as she freezes. “Hi.” Is all she can manage to come up with as she looks into his azure eyes with a pained expression, anxiety roaring to life as, for the first time in months, her palms start to dig reflexively into her thighs. Her lower lip is trembling and she catches it in her teeth to still it, a perfect portrait of her former anxious self.

Milosh near growls at Echo when he notices her falling to anxiety filled pieces, but it’s sort of his own damn fault she’s there, though he’s exploded worse than that before, so why the anxiety now? He lifts a brow at her after her nervous ‘HI’ and folds his arms across his chest, those four emotions from before sliding in turns through is features as he wars with what to say to her in response, but there’s something that need addressing yet, before he can set to the task at hand. “Stop.” He says commandingly, knowing that she’ll know what he’s talking about. “Stop that right now Echo.” He manages that demanding tone of his that resonates with command, with only just a little bit of a growl attached to it.

With a fluttering sigh as the command in his voice works its way through the fog of anxiety clouding Echo’s mind, the herder finally realizes what she was doing and gives a frustrated growl, “Shard it!” she says as she balls up her hands into fists and crosses her arms over her chest to secure them there from indulging in that old nervous tic of hers. She takes a few deep breaths, eyes closing, as she regains control of herself and clears her head from the worries and insistence that she has ruined anything, because she certainly has no confirmation that anything is changed. Yet that is… Once she has centered herself once more, she opens her soft brown eyes again and searched his gaze out with them. “Thank you Sir. I lost it for a second. It won’t happen again.” She is trying to detach herself from the situation, convincing herself that she doesn’t need to know more than she does about the contents of that large chest. That he’s not going to tell her anyway. And now she feels a pang of regret that he doesn’t feel he can open up to her more because more than anything, she wants to know all of him, he fascinates and excites her. So clearing her throat softly, she asks him evenly, “Should I just go Sir?”

Milosh sighs heavily shaking his head. “No.” He eyes Echo then, a softer sort of look washing over his features. She does resemble Elena, a little, but at the same time, is a beauty all her own. He moves further into the wagon, and then spies the drink in his glass. He picks it up and sniffs at it, and the scent that reaches his nose is unexpected. He’d expected whiskey….what he finds, shocks him out of his weird bubble for a moment. “Rum?” He asks, confused.

Relaxing visibly when he doesn’t make her leave, Echo lets a tentative smile creep onto her lips as soon as she sees that softer look wash over his features. When he moves over to the table and takes up his drink, she blinks at his confusion and looks at the bottle she had grabbed, indeed, it is Rum. She shrugs sheepishly, “I wasn’t really looking at labels when I grabbed it.” she says with a self-deprecating little chuckle before her expression softens and she sighs with a little hint of worry. “Are you ok Sir?” she asks finally as she pushes aside the question as to the identity of the mystery woman from the portrait, that's not important to her. But he is important to her, very much so, as she watches him, she realizes her heart aches to take him in her arms and reassure him of how sorry she is and how she’d never do anything to hurt him knowingly.

For a moment, Milosh is half grinning, shaking his head. "Grabbed the first one you could reach, eh?" He's been guilty of the same a time or two. But then Echo is asking if Milosh is alright and his emotions well back up to plague him. He shakes his head slightly, downing the rum. "No." Comes his simple answer. He moves to the trunk he previously slammed shut and opens it, his nerves wound up tighter than an eight day clock, if Pern had such a description for it. He pulls the portrait from the trunk and shuts the lid, expelling a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He hands the portrait to Echo solemnly, almost reverently. "That woman there, full of child and looking happy… she was…" Milosh looks conflicted for a moment, the spy in him, and the private man in him screaming at him to shut the hell up, he's never talked of this with anyone, why Echo? Because he wants her to move in with him, because she'd asked for more and he, for some reason, wants to give her that more. "She was my wife…and that swell in her belly, my son." His voice falters for a second as he tries to gather himself up, he might tell Echo about Elena, but he refuses to fall to pieces in front of her. He's too much the control freak for that. He pours another drink and downs it. "They both died just weeks after Mielen was born."

Echo can't help but look surprised when Milosh admits to not being ok, but says nothing in favor of just giving him a small encouraging nod to continue. She refills her own drink as she watches him open the chest back up and pull out the portrait she had seen earlier. Her warm brown eyes sweep over it again, taking it in as if this was the first time seeing it. Her breath catches in her throat as she sees him look conflicted, it's not a familiar sight in this usually so confident a man and it intrigues her. But then when he reveals the identity of the woman as his wife, Echo doesn't know what to think. At first she’s not even sure she's heard him right. “Wow….” She whispers as she looks to be processing the revelation he had just imparted on her. “I am so sorry Milosh, that you went through that.” Her eyes brighten briefly as if there are tears threatening, but a few blinks are enough to clear them. She takes a small sip of her drink thoughtfully as she tries to keep from making a move to hold him. “Can I give you a hug Sir?” She asks softly, offering him comfort but only if he chooses to accept it.

That’s the first time he’s spoken his son’s name since the babe died. Something jars loose inside Milosh at the speaking of it. Echo’s pity, or sympathy or whatever she holds back when looking at him and giving her apologies, stings, and yet, doesn’t. Milosh again looks conflicted, unsure if he wants, needs or should accept physical comfort…Elena and Mielen had been gone for so long already…and they had nothing to do with the wide eyed, beautiful Echo who’s grown on him these last few months. It’s an odd place to be, wanting to move forward, yet always chased by the ghosts of the past. He shakes his head finally, declining the hug only because he is not sure he wouldn’t shatter at the contact, and again the control freak in him can’t be having that now, hell, the man in him alone wouldn’t allow for it. “I apologize for getting so angry with you….but when I walked in, and saw you standing there like that, with that dress, for A moment I thought I saw…” Milosh shakes his head. “I was seeing ghosts and it unsettled me. That is the first time that trunk has been open since I laid them both to rest. I suppose it was mad of me to keep it in the first place.”

A soft sigh escaped Echo as her offer isn’t accepted, even though a part of her notices the conflict behind his decision and wonders about that. Could this control freak of a man be softening up to her, even just a little? There’s been so many subtle hints that Echo wonders that he can’t see it himself. Privately the herder girl is patient, she can feel there is something else between them, but she also notices that he is not ready to acknowledge it. That’s fine. She isn’t quite sure what it is either, only that she never wants it to stop. She takes a slow sip of her drink as her head tilts to one side and listens intently to his apology and then shakes her head, “You are completely forgiven Sir. I can imagine that would be quite unsettling.” Then when he opens up some more, she can’t help but feel the flood of affection that surges into her heart. “Not mad at all. Maybe you were hoping to have them for a time when you were not so raw from the loss that you could appreciate the memories.” she shrugs though and adds, “I would never presume to know what you went through, I just could see myself doing that.” Another small sip as she ponders something. “May I ask how long ago it was?” She asks with interest but not in a pushy way.

It’s nice to be forgiven for being an ass, and Milosh probably looks visibly relieved. He moves to the liquor crate to pull a bottle of whiskey and pours a proper drink, downing it and pouring another. “I am not ….used to letting others into the private parts of my life Pet. It is both a necessity, and something that keeps me…safe.” You can’t be hurt if you don’t let yourself close to anyone, and most times, that’s a perfect thing for a spy. “But…I know…If I want….” He doesn’t seem to quite know what to say, and thankfully, about this point, Echo asks him how long it’s been and it distracts him. “Roughly a decade ago.”

Echo is finding the way he can't quite figure out what to say deeply adorable, although she keeps her face warm and inviting even though there is a twinkle of something else in her warm brown eyes as she looks up at him, demure with a hint of adoration. Her own drink is sipped thoughtfully before she considers everything he has told her for a long moment. “You must have been really young then. Even more tragic.”. But Echo is very aware that this Sir of hers does not open up easily and so in recognition of that she bobs her head in his direction and adds softly. “Thank you for trusting me with this Sir. That means a lot to me.” Unbidden, her words are thick with emotion as the warmth that had been slowly growing in her heart is now overflowing into every part of her.

“I was twenty.” Echo's next has Milosh tossing her a look of appreciation, a silent thank you for not probing deeper. Already the shadows of his past plague his features, he's not sure he wants to delve back into them in full just now. “I'll get these… .taken care of.” He nods towards the trunks and knocks back his whiskey and moves to Echo. Lifting her chin so he can look at her, he examines her features, wonders at the thick emotion in her voice, and even with the tense situation heat curls through him. He leans down to kiss her, his only other contact the fingers on her chin. And unlike his usual demanding demeanour, the contract is soft, exploratory.

Echo recognizes the silent thanks from Milosh and it brings a fresh wave of emotion as she smiles brightly in his direction before taking another sip and then considers that if he was 20 a decade ago…he’s older than she initially thought. When he talks about taking care of the trunks, she just nods again and then looks around as if there's anything left that she could manage. But then Milosh is in front of her, his fingers on her chin guiding her eyes to meet his, a soft smile on her lips, eyes twinkling in response to his examining gaze. When his lips meet hers in that unexpectedly soft kiss she can't help the half step she takes closer to him, her hand reaches up to lay gently on his chest, almost no pressure, just barely resting above his heart. Eyes flutter closed as she gladly accepts his exploratory lips with hers, allowing him full access.

Miosh plies Echo with that soft, exploratory kiss for looong moments, eventually slipping his arms around her. The thrill of having her fills him and he feels better for having her in his arms. There’s a part of Milosh that suspects his own feelings for this demure, wonderful farrier, but that controlling side, refuses to recognize it, stubborn bastard that it is. But he knows he’d rather have her in his bed than not, in his home than not, she spends much time here anyhow. And the thoughts and the thrill of her being there, even after such a big, big share, elates him and makes him forget the nervousness he’d felt when he’d made the decision to ask her to move in with him. And when he parts their kiss, the need for air now evident, the request slips from his lips without thinking. “Move in with me Pet…please?”

When he wraps his arms around her, Echo sighs happily against his lips, letting her body melt against his, surrendering to his soft embrace with her all. Her own emotions are hot and deep, enveloping her in a sweet bliss that she never wants to go away. Her eyes are closed and she’s nearly humming her pleasure at the kiss she would gladly get lost in forever. And then their lips are parting, her eyes are still closed, and he’s asking her to move in with him….wait a second. Her eyes fly open and grow round as she looks up at him with a slack-jawed surprise. She wants to ask all the questions, Why now? What’s his reasons behind it? Is this only because of what she said in the renegotiations about wanting more? Is he trying to make this into something it’s not? All these questions and more dance their anxious dance through her mind as she searches his face.

But then something he once told her comes to mind, that he does not change unless he wants to. And she does trust the man with all her heart, so the only logical conclusion is that he really does want her to move in with him, and that sends a wonderful shiver of realization through her. He wants her to move in with him! Elation threatens to bubble out of her as her dark brown eyes dance and a bright smile spreads over her lips and she nods her head emphatically. “Yes! I would love that Sir.” Her words are bubbling with barely held back emotion as it hits her all at once, what that feeling that has been slowly warming her heart around him could be, but she won’t name it, he’s not ready to hear she feels, but maybe soon….

Relief floods through Milosh like a tidal wave, and he grabs Echo up in his arms for a much more heated ply of the lips than before, heart hammering against his chest as his elation rises. He’d been so afraid she’d say no….particularly after finding out he’s so damaged. It endears her to him all the more. His wife and his son are not a topic Milosh is at all comfortable or willing to talk about, yet in one simple action, Echo had pulled a story from him he’d never uttered once in a decade. And it doesn’t squash the pain, or make it go away, but some part of Milosh is freed, having shared his sorrows finally.

The way he grabs her up in his arms, Echo can't help but giggle, her whole face lighting up as she sees the relief and elation in him, his emotions completely on display and it makes the herder’s heart soar. Her own arms reach up to encircle his neck when he plies her with a harder kiss, pulling him closer and pressing her willowy form against his body, she can feel his heart hammering in his chest, or is that hers? Maybe both? All Echo knows is that she is happy, ecstatically happy.

When finally she has to break for some air, she sighs happily as her warm brown eyes flutter opened, a blissful smile on her lips, “So when are you going to come over and help me pack then Sir? I promise I don't have nearly as much as you.” She teases playfully as she leans back a little to look at him, take in how finely handsome he is and she marvels that he would want her.

MIlosh chuckles, sort of half drunk on Echo and her acquiescence to move in. “Whenever you’d like Pet, but stay there with me starting tonight?” He cocks a brow in question, though that request had been half order, half sincere request. His sides are warring for dominance, the exposed, kinder, more vulnerable side, and the control freak. Only time will truly tell what side of him will win that war, but for tonight at least, the kinder side is winning.

Echo feels like her cheeks are going to crack with the smile widening on her lips. Her dark brown eyes dance and sparkle with delight when he asks her to move in as of that very night and all she can do is nod her head enthusiastically. Finally she manages to speak through her own bubbling excitement, “Yes, of course yes, why wait?” with a sweetly contented sigh as she reaches up to kiss him again briefly but tinged with her exuberant energy. “We should probably get back to it if we want to get that yurt in a state to be occupied by tonight though.” She suggests but makes no move away from his arms, so comfortable and joyous in his embrace she may never want to leave it.

Oh they'll get back to it indeed. But not any time soon, Milosh is eager to chase away his demons and more so eager to do it with Echo. It's fair to say that the wagon is rocking long before its empty and quiet for the night.

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