Big In Japan [Veralia/Stella]

Nestling further into the lap of Stella, Veralia looked into the eyes of Stella for a moment before gently flicking her nose.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting comfortable. You dragged me to this city, so it's your fault."

It was true that because of Stella's request, Veralia was in the city. However, she didn't mind much, which is why her tone remained teasing. She was more keen on the matter of her training. So, her gaze continued to linger as Stella professed her doubts and uncertainties to her.

"Then why are you worried if you know the truth?"

With her right eyebrow raised in intrigue, Veralia used her right hand to once again grab her drink and slam down another long sip of her lemony margarita. If anything, the sip of her drink made the woman reflect and believe the night out might be what Stella needed; given how stiff the woman was.

"Perhaps, it's not the certainty of the journey that troubles you, but the steps you've yet to take."

Her insight was offered gently, cushioned within the comfort of their shared space.

Veralia's demeanor suggested ease, yet her engagement with Stella was anything but casual. Each word, each gesture, was a carefully considered step in guiding Stella through the maze of her own anxieties.

Veralia blinked in her drunken stupor as she hadn't expected the waterworks to start flowing out. She remained silent for a few moments, letting Stella get her woes and concerns out of her system.

Observing Stella's emotions spilled over, Veralia found herself uncharacteristically patient, her hand moving to stroke Stella's hair with a gentleness she didn't often afford others—or herself. The motion was soothing, both for Stella and, surprisingly, for Veralia, as if the act of comforting another quelled her own restless spirit.

"And how defined is this dream of yours? That shit can change with time, Stella."

As she sipped on her drink, there was a brief pause before her bloody eyes continued to gaze down at the teary-eyed Quincy resting against her.

"From the sounds of it, you sound like a perfect vessel for envy to make itself at home. Always wanting to be better, craving more, and never being enough; you better be careful my powers don't strangle you up in my web."

With a dry chuckle exiting her mouth, strings of emerald energy danced around the two; some even connecting with the chest of Stella. Veralia was at home with these more vile and negative emotions of The Quincy's outburst.

"You want to covet more strength, so instead of crying about it, the best you can do is find something to live for. Your soul is hungry for all this life has to offer, so keep feeding the hole inside yourself. That's the only thing that has made sense to me and my sin."

Now having Stella's head resting against her, Veralia's eyelids fluttered closed, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. There was a certain thrill, an undeniable pleasure, in being so intimately close to the turmoil churning within Stella. The negative emotions, the very seeds of envy and desire that threatened to bloom in the face of Stella's vulnerability, fed something primal within Veralia. It was a reminder of her true nature, of the sin that pulsed at her core as an evolved hollow.

Veralia opened her eyes again, noticing that Stella was wrapping herself around her in the form of an embrace. Chuckling out of a sense of endearment, she returned the favor and gently pat The Quincy on the back.

"And what are you sorry for exactly...?"

Half-teasing, half-curious; Veralia's tone didn't indicate anything malicious by it. Rather, she was confused as to why the woman felt the need to apologize for everything under the sun.

"But yeah, you are welcome. Probably for the best since the skyline of this city is beautiful."

As her hand continued its comforting motions on Stella's back, Veralia felt a pleasant shiver—a quiet satisfaction in nurturing the nascent embers of envy, allowing a subtle warmth to shield them both from the evening's chill.

"Got plans for where to crash? Eventually, we'll need to rest, and I've got a hotel room nearby. It might be wise to consider our options unless you fancy sleeping under the stars."

Stella was a mess; as it seemed she missed the words from Veralia about the need to move this conversation elsewhere.

However, Veralia found no fault in it. If anything, it drew out an unexpected tenderness within her. With a decisive motion, she effortlessly scooped Stella up in a bridal carry, her strength unhampered by the alcohol flowing through her veins. They descended from the rooftop, landing with a grace that belied Veralia's inebriated state before she commenced their walk through the dimly lit streets.

"You won't grow if you stay a big duck in a small pond."

Veralia's words slurred ever so slightly, as, despite her drunken state, her words rang as true as ever. Her crimson gaze, still sharp beneath the haze of intoxication, flicked towards Stella, offering a semblance of solace in her turmoil.

"I'm certain you made the right choice deciding to leave that small place and explore. It'll hurt and feel weird, but I'm sure you'll be alright in the long run."

As they navigated the streets, Veralia's gaze occasionally swept their surroundings, searching for the hotel that would offer them refuge for the night. Despite the slight furrow of concentration between her brows, her hold on Stella remained secure and warm—a silent promise of protection against the uncertainties that awaited.

Veralia remained quiet for a moment. She was soaking in the words that Stella had uttered out, while stimulously pin-pointing the direction of the hotel she booked. After having time to reflect, her blood gaze looked back down at The Quincy.

"Sacrifices must be made toward the desires of the heart. It is a needed evil of the world in some situations."

Looking back up at the bustling streets around her, Veralia would eventually find the towering hotel. With that objective out of the way, she could breathe a sigh of relief.

"I'd imagine they'd want you to spread your wings if that is what'll make you happy."

And, as if on cue, she would gently levitate toward the hotel. Their ascent to the hotel suite was smooth, a silent glide through the open window that betrayed Veralia's adept control over her powers. The suite was an embrace of luxury and comfort, with plush beds that promised rest and a fridge that held the promise of indulgence.

As Stella was set down on the soft, welcoming embrace of the sofa, Veralia had a playful question asked aloud.

"Comfy?"