Summary: Kenna and Diavolos share a moment after Dom has been rescued.
Kenna can’t sleep. She’s in a tent just outside the entrance to Aurelia, on a relatively uncomfortable bedroll, for one thing. Adrenaline is still coursing through her after nearly being incinerated by Dom and thinking they’d lost for him good, for another. He’s stable now, thank gods, sleeping in the airship while Sei watches over him. Annelyse and Jackson are tending to some of the more seriously injured people, and Whitlock is keeping an eye on Hex.
Diavolos is outside the tent, keeping the first watch for any potential trouble. Kenna is supposed to sleep until he wakes her and then take over, but she can’t get her eyes to stay closed. She sighs and rolls to her stomach on the bedroll, peaking out through the flap of the tent. Diavolos’ silhouette is just visible if she cranes her head to the left.
They’re spending the night in Aurelia. Kenna knows they need to get back to Stormholt as soon as possible, but Annelyse had pleaded with her to stay overnight to provide some basic first aid. She’s also working on locating more weapons and medical supplies more advanced than those at Stormholt, so Kenna agrees they can wait to leave until the morning.
Kenna sighs again, rolling to her back and staring up at the canvas over her head. She gives up on sleep after a while, tugging her armor back on and stepping outside. Diavolos glances at her as she walks out.
“About time,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been tossing and turning in there for forever.”
“I’m too wound up to sleep,” she explains, sitting next to him on ground.
Diavolos chuckles. “I know what you mean.”
Kenna crosses her legs, idly rolling a pebble between her fingers. They sit in a surprisingly comfortable silence, Diavolos with his elbows propped on his knees as he surveys the landscape. She gazes at his profile, the slope of his nose, the strong line of his jaw, the lock of hair that keeps falling over his forehead with his crown off. He really is good-looking, she muses, then laughs quietly as she wryly thinks, And of course he knows it.
Diavolos turns his head toward her, a half-smirk on his face. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly, but she’s still smiling.
Diavolos shakes his head at her, then turns to look out in front of them again. She goes back to sneaking glances at him, her eyes wandering down to his full lips and remembering the way kissing him had felt, his arm strong and secure around her waist, his hand tugging at her hair. Kenna couldn’t remember being kissed like that before, the all-consuming need and want that had suddenly rushed through her the second his lips touched hers. She’d found herself a little disappointed when he’d left, though it was probably for the best.
“You could probably sleep, if you want,” she says after a little while. “I’m not going to be able to any time soon.”
Diavolos makes a noncommittal noise. “I won’t be able to either.”
Kenna sighs, scuffing the toe of her boot along the ground.
“What is it?” Diavolos asks, glancing over at her again.
“Nothing in particular,” she says. “Just impatient to get back to Stormholt and have all of this be over.”
“So am I,” he admits.
“You’re impatient to get back to Stormholt?” she says teasingly.
Diavolos laughs. “I’ve heard the food is good there.”
She turns and finds him staring at her. Even in the dark, she can feel the intensity of his gaze and sucks in a breath.
“You’re there,” he says in a low tone.
“…Diavolos,” she murmurs after a minute.
“Kenna.”
“I want to kiss you again,” she confesses quietly.
He doesn’t respond right away, and Kenna wonders if he didn’t hear her, or is pretending he didn’t hear her. Her cheeks flood with heat and she wonders if she’s read this completely wrong. She’s about to feign being tired and go back in the tent when she realizes he’s scooted closer to her, his arm brushing hers. His face is just inches away as he turns her head towards him, his thumb brushing over her lip.
Before she can talk herself out of it or remind herself why they shouldn’t be doing this, she turns and kneels beside him, murmuring his name as he slides her over his lap. Her arms loop around his neck as he pulls her closer, pressing his lips firmly to hers.
“Oh,” she sighs, raking her fingers through his hair.
His tongue darts into her mouth and Kenna groans, leaning into him until he reclines back on the ground, his arms tight around her back to pull her down with him. There’s something exhilarating about kissing him in the dark, unable to see his reactions, her other senses on overdrive. She can feel his breathing speed up as they kiss, can faintly taste the liquor he’d tossed back earlier as they’d set the tent up, his fingertips warm and slightly rough as he slips them under the back of her shirt.
She’d wondered after he’d left last night if her reaction to him had been a one-time fluke, a heady reaction to kissing Luther Nevrakis’ son in secret. But no, she realizes. She’s feeling the same way now, that same rush of want and need and something more. She rocks against him instinctively, and Diavolos groans, kissing her hungrily and biting her lower lip before pulling away. A whining noise escapes her mouth, and she feels him chuckle quietly.
“As much as I want you, we can’t do this here,” Diavolos says, his hands resting around her waist as she reluctantly sits up.
She sighs heavily. “I know.”
He’s right. They’re not expecting the others until morning, but the chance is still there that someone could come and see them. Kenna settles back on the ground next to him, Diavolos pushing himself upright.
“You should try and sleep,” he says, nudging her.
She’s still not tired, but she knows she’ll regret it in the morning if she doesn’t at least try and sleep. Diavolos takes her hand just before she heads back into the tent, his lips finding her knuckles in the dark. Her skin tingles where his lips touch her.
“Good night, Kenna,” Diavolos murmurs.
“Good night.”
She lays there, still unable to sleep, until Diavolos comes to get her. He doesn’t look particularly surprised to see her awake, a smirk crossing his face as she rises.
“What?” she asks him.
“I don’t think a woman has ever lost sleep over me before,” he says.
Kenna narrows her eyes at him. “That’s not why I couldn’t sleep,” she protests.
Diavolos chuckles as she puts her armor back on and he unbuckles his sword belt and stretches out on the bedroll. “Don’t worry, Kenna. I lost sleep over you last night too.”