Niut had one rule. No matter what happened in her duties, in the role that she played, she would always be on the periphery. She would interact with others, those who had been involved, those currently involved, those that may one day be involved. But she would not interact directly.

She was the One Who Watches, after all.

But how long can you watch without finding yourself feeling emotions one way or another? How long can you change the subject when they are brought up, turn and walk away, not raise a hand when you know that the worst will happen because you only Watch and do not Act?

She never expected what happened that night, Cendrine never warned her what would happen, although her sister's mood that day and the days around it should have tipped Niut off, but she was too busy doing her best to make everyone else happy that it never occurred to Niut that her sister's unusual cheerfulness and alertness would be about her.

The storm was sudden and heavy, and Niut was glad for the conveniences of the modern world to shield her from the worst and that her sister had instructed her to stay home that night. She would have hated to have been outside in the worst of it, with the winds and rain howling down tearing at her clothes, wings and hair. So she stayed indoors, boiling the kettle.

The knock at the door surprised her, but her immediate concern was for whoever was waiting outside. She ran to the door, throwing it open to find the last person she expected.

He was soaked from the storm, black and white striped hair matted to his head above those clear blue eyes. He was about to speak but was struck dumb, finding himself face to face with the woman that he had seen so many times out of the corner of his eyes, the one he felt was watching him but never approaching and at times he had sworn that he saw a blush on her cheeks as she hurried away from him on street corners.

No words were exchanged as she reached forward, finding that he was real, his clothes soaked through to his fur, and she pulled him through the doorway into her home, the door swinging shut behind him. She led him into the living room, before the fireplace, and pushed him down onto the couch and began to undress the clothes from him.

Art ©  snow-mishibari

Akeashar & Niut ©  akeashar