08-27-2017, 12:53 AM
He sighs or moans; she can’t be sure which it is and it might even be both that come from his lips. Even she knows that he is glad that she has calmed and put out her fire, needing neither moan nor sigh to tell her as much - something in the crook of his head and his less guarded bearing told her that this small concession on her part was well received on his end. For that, she might even have been a bit glad…
If gladness did not spar so poorly with the sadness in her heart.
How could she explain it to him?
It still made little sense to her --
Sick and shaking. Sleeping and dreaming fitfully. Her skin too thick and too hot and all of a sudden - fire, consuming and cleansing and there, hers to beckon forth from inside like it had always been there, nestled deep within, just waiting for a catalyst.
Spark had known fire was in her bloodline; felt the heat come off her father’s skin enough to know that some part of it lay dormant in her but she’d thought if she’d come into anything, it’d be stars like him. Only his stars stayed his own. Lost in darkness, in wandering. So she found her own light - not like he had, in Alight’s own odd blaze but she could understand a bit better, the fire in that one’s wings and heart because it was in her too. Maybe it had always been the anger pushing at her, thick and hot. All she could see was Alight aflame and him, shocked but not, and she’d burst into flame herself. How to tell him all this? How could he not already know to some extent?
“Why not?” she casually throws the question back at him, rolling one black but somehow bright eye his way. “I rather think it chose me, and I had not so much choice in the matter.” He asks what happened and what can she say? I stopped eating. I stopped caring. I wanted to stop breathing. You were gone and my whole world went with you. Once the heart gives up, how can the body not follow suit? But she simply says, “I was sick and then I wasn’t, but I was something else - the fire found me, saved me.” Filled me up, burnt away all that I was and had become and left me - Spark, clean and new and fiery, in its place.
“The stars were always yours,” she murmurs, listening to Gloam snort and move his wings. What must it be like to feel that half of yourself missing? She was thankful to have never known despite how Spear kept to his small blossoming family now and she, well, she had this even if she was the hot tail of a comet forever following a bright bright star.
If gladness did not spar so poorly with the sadness in her heart.
How could she explain it to him?
It still made little sense to her --
Sick and shaking. Sleeping and dreaming fitfully. Her skin too thick and too hot and all of a sudden - fire, consuming and cleansing and there, hers to beckon forth from inside like it had always been there, nestled deep within, just waiting for a catalyst.
Spark had known fire was in her bloodline; felt the heat come off her father’s skin enough to know that some part of it lay dormant in her but she’d thought if she’d come into anything, it’d be stars like him. Only his stars stayed his own. Lost in darkness, in wandering. So she found her own light - not like he had, in Alight’s own odd blaze but she could understand a bit better, the fire in that one’s wings and heart because it was in her too. Maybe it had always been the anger pushing at her, thick and hot. All she could see was Alight aflame and him, shocked but not, and she’d burst into flame herself. How to tell him all this? How could he not already know to some extent?
“Why not?” she casually throws the question back at him, rolling one black but somehow bright eye his way. “I rather think it chose me, and I had not so much choice in the matter.” He asks what happened and what can she say? I stopped eating. I stopped caring. I wanted to stop breathing. You were gone and my whole world went with you. Once the heart gives up, how can the body not follow suit? But she simply says, “I was sick and then I wasn’t, but I was something else - the fire found me, saved me.” Filled me up, burnt away all that I was and had become and left me - Spark, clean and new and fiery, in its place.
“The stars were always yours,” she murmurs, listening to Gloam snort and move his wings. What must it be like to feel that half of yourself missing? She was thankful to have never known despite how Spear kept to his small blossoming family now and she, well, she had this even if she was the hot tail of a comet forever following a bright bright star.