Shakarian: things you said when you were drunk
getting this out before I fall through a Jaal-shaped hole I mean what
A stray beam from a star, a sun, falls into the cabin and highlights the dust particles drifting aimlessly around. Shepard shakes her head as if to shrug off the light and one of her hairs floats to the ground. Garrus’ eyes follow, as in trance. Her hairs… he’s begun finding them everywhere once he started paying attention. Yet Shepard insists that it’s not like fur and it’s not shedding.
The hair curls up on the floor. So incredibly thin. It should be barely visible, logic would dictate. But today, in this random beam of light, the red hair shines like a tiny beacon.
“I love your hair.”
Shepard laughs, her shoulders moving against his.
“Why do you always say that when you’re drunk?”
She laughs again, slightly tinged with disbelief and then she swiftly moves and before he can say more, she’s in his lap, her chest pressing into his carapace and his hands are full of her ass as he nuzzles against her neck, her hair, her lips.
Whenever he wakes, she’s usually already up and gone. An entire galaxy demanding for her attention. All that’s left is her hair on her pillow. A reminder that she’d been there next to him, more than a dream or a memory. Not like on Palaven where he couldn’t stop wondering whether she still was… She still was. She is.
Garrus closes his eyes and deepens the kiss, presses her closer and carries her to the bed.
It doesn’t get easier the more he has to watch her disappear. Down into the depths of freezing water, linked to the fucking Geth consensus… She just has to keep doing things like that.
Weighing millions against billions… This is what the war has done to them.
Yet her life… He knows. He’s not able to think of her like that. To reduce her to a number. Not her. He needs her to make it through all the fucking dangers she throws herself into.
He dares to ask… A foolish hope, naive even. But she has to… he needs her to…
“Come back alive.”
She once caught him trying to pick up one of her hairs with his gloved talons from the seat of the Kodiak.
“Don’t have enough reach for that one, Big Guy?”
“My awesome sniper precision doesn’t seem to be of help much here, surprisingly.”
She’d just snorted a laugh and not even asked why he bothered with picking up her dead protein filaments. He was grateful.
So… he holds her close and presses his face against hers.
Because he needs her here, he’s so grateful she’s alive and that the strands she loses is all that’s lost its life and… he needs her… and…
He laughs and says “I love your hair.”