Chapter Text
She had met her a month ago. Gods know why her and her traveling group kept coming back so much, but it didn’t matter to Nyro. As long as she could, she wanted to stay with Velrisa Greyrock. There she laid, right next to her in the inn bed, the sunlight gracing her delicate skin. To Nyro, she looked like sunshine.
She had to admit, she reminded her of Myria. Pink skin, purple fluffy hair and a kind face. It hurt her to even think about it. But Nyro knew deep down, that Myria was looking down upon her from the heavens and grinning cheekily as she watched Nyro stumble her words around Velrisa. It hurt Nyro so much to call someone else that wasn’t Myria her love, but whenever Velrisa pressed her head against her chest and pressed a kiss to her collarbone, it felt all worth it. She ran her hand through her hair, coiling her fingers in the purple locks.
She loves Velrisa Greyrock. She remembers the first time she told her. The night when Nyro kissed her for the first time, and Velrisa ran off. She found her in a garden, curled up in front of the fountain. She had sat next to her and tried to hold her shoulder when the cleric swatted her hand away.
“I’m not Myria.”
Nyro remembers staring at her. “What?”
“I can’t be what Myria was for you. I don’t possibly know what it’s like to lose and grieve someone for so long.”
“I.. I know.”
“Then you know why you can’t be here right now.”
Nyro had enough. She moved to sit in front of her. Velrisa looked up at her curiously, as Nyro grabbed her hand to hold.
“I don’t want Myria.” Nyro couldn’t help the small frown that came from her sentence. But she kept going.
“I want Velrisa Greyrock. I have loved Myria for years, and even though we never wed, she’ll always be my wife and I’ll always love her. But by Gods above, she would slap me if she thought that she was the reason I couldn’t love again.”
Words that weren’t completely reassuring, but it felt like a weight tore off her shoulders. Her chest felt lighter and a smile crept on her face as she held Velrisa’s hand.
“What are you saying?” She muttered at her.
“I’m saying—I love you Velrisa Greyrock. I don’t know what we are, but I want to stay with you as long as I can. Even when you eventually leave like you and your group always do, I want to see you again. I-I want to write a letter for every stupid thing I see that reminds me of you.”
Velrisa blushed, and she lifted up her other hand to put on top of Nyro’s. She stared in awe for a moment, the moonlight perfectly reflected off of Velrisa’s face and eyes, almost like a spotlight.
She dove in one more time to kiss her, her hands flying to grip her waist. Velrisa froze for a moment, and to Nyro’s relief, her eyes finally shut as she leaned in to kiss back, the pink hands resting on her neck.
She remembers the scorned look on that tabaxi’s face when she took her inside, and up the stairs to her room. She remembers winking at him and mouthing “you wish” at him, savoring the blush from Taxi, and the cheering from rest of their party.
She remembers dreaming of Myria that night. Not of a nightmare this time, but rather her in an unfamiliar gorgeous white dress that dragged along the floor and puffed out like a flower. She looked to her with adoring eyes that Nyro could never forget, her beautiful golden eyes piercing her gaze with a familiar teasing smile. And then one sentence that left her lips that stayed with her for weeks.
“That was pretty hot, Ny.”
She woke up soon thereafter. But not in a cold sweat, not in a night terror where she was struggling to breathe. But with Velrisa in her arms, and a blanket over her shoulder as the sunrise crept into her room.
She remembers smiling giddily, so glad that she saw her wife once more, and to hear that one sentence. As silly as it was; that was all she needed to know that Myria was happy for her. And that she’d probably want a threesome when they eventually would both die.
As much as it hurt to think of Myria, she wasn’t mourning her or scorning the people who killed her. She was thinking of how Myria looked down upon her like a goddess watching her followers. She thought of the beautiful tiefling cleric that laid in her arms, how the streaks of the golden sunrise shining through the window painted her so beautifully, she almost looked like a painting.
Nyro pressed a kiss to her forehead, and drifted back into a blissful rest.