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[fuelthefire]

You have reached the voicemail inbox of Krieg the Psycho.

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[fuelthefire]

[He's quiet for several moments as he allows himself time to process her words, though even before he's fully taken their meaning one corner of his mouth is edging upward in a crooked smile. Then there's a warmth in his belly and a tightness in his chest, and it feels so good it actually hurts just a little...which only makes it all the better.

There had been a time in his life, back on Pandora, when he'd known himself to be incapable of anything approaching normal human emotions - his past was gone, and in the present there had only been anger and violence and bloodlust.

But then he had met Maya, and her beauty, and strength, and kindness, had broken the rage machine, had cracked the wall in his mind and let the voice of reason through just enough so that he began to feel other things - worry, humor, happiness, sadness, hope, regret. Whenever he'd begun to feel overwhelmed by those emotions, there had always been a nearby bandit clan or some Hyperion toadies to slaughter, and so he'd managed to keep everything on a more or less even keel.

But then, inexplicably, he had been pulled here, away from his comrades into a strange land where very little made sense. The presence of the small chicken had been a blessing, had provided him somewhere to focus his easily distracted attention, and had allowed him to keep his feet on the ground even if he wasn't sure where to go. Before Angel had followed him, there had been far too many stretches of quiet where the voice in his head was far too loud. Once she'd arrived, however, and offered her friendship, her voice had been louder than the one in his head, and had immediately been the one one he preferred to listen to.

And when her voice says things like that...well.

He pulls his hand gently from hers so that he can turn toward her to wrap both his arms around her again. Maskless as he is, he presses his cheek to the top of her head, and wrinkles his nose very slightly at the gentle tickling sensation caused by her hair.]

Love you.

[It's not the first time he's uttered that phrase, although it is the first time he's said it to Angel. He's crooned the words before, jokingly, to all of the other Vault Hunters, but this is the first time he's said them with the conviction and intent they normally inspire. It's likely Angel knows already, but there's no reason not to say it aloud anyway, especially in the face of their preceding discussion.

It never hurts to be sure, after all.]

[brokencode]

[The embrace was a welcome one, though certainly all she expected out of him. It was one of the many charming quirks in their relationship -- she could talk for hours and he would listen patiently, while he would say little and Angel could interpret volumes. Words were virtually unnecessary between the two of them.]

[It was why when he spoke, what he said came as no surprise. They'd never said as much aloud to one another, but you simply didn't travel across foreign lands with someone you didn't feel strongly toward. Likewise, didn't trust someone you felt lukewarm about with your life. Their feelings, their mutual feelings were obvious enough.]

I love you. [She nestled her cheek against his chest, feeling the heavy pounding of the bass drum therein against her skin. This was safe. This was home, more than Pandora, more than the Inn itself. Whether they were beneath a strong roof or towering, dripping trees, she knew she would be safe.

[It was the kind of friendship she'd spent hours dreaming of.]

Thank you. [It was hard to choke out the words, between the wad of emotions gathering in her throat. She sniffed, hoping that the warmth in her eyes wouldn't spread down to her cheeks, and potentially onto Krieg's chest.]