07-16-2019, 06:50 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Everything has settled. Tephra is rebuilding, growing. Sylva is overtaken and quiet.
Suddenly, the chaos that swept across Beqanna has silenced.
Castile listens, waiting, to the breeze and the whispers carried on its wintry gale. The reptiles scampering across the sundried ground hiss but still carry no word of anything. The world is stunned into silence as it recovers from mayhem and bloodshed. Weeping parents nestle against their living children and lovers embrace as though for the very last time.
And all he can do is watch.
He observes with lazy, half-lidded eyes until a note – no, not just one, but a few – of familiarity encompasses him. Each scent is a hook sinking into Castile’s mind, reviving him from a brief nap on a rolling hillside. Next to him, a cactus stands sentinel. He spares it a single glance but his attention spans beyond it when Starsin enters his peripheral to confirm his thoughts. A lopsided, boyish grin tips the edges of his mouth as he spurs forward and joins her underneath the winter sun.
”I really wish I could read your mind,” he comments when he draws near enough to be heard, his eyes twinkling in amusement, but he doesn’t elaborate until they’ve stopped. They’re near enough to touch and yet he doesn’t make a gesture to. Instead, he quips with a lighthearted tone. ”Because I’m really curious who you find better in the sack. Litotes or Ophanim,” her body is riddled with their scents, permeated like she had only just left them in the dead of night after a wild rendezvous. Castile’s head inclines as a boyish expression adds a touch of youthfulness to his face. He speaks to her not in a business or stern manner, but as friends would – lighthearted, humored. ”You can tell me. I promise not to tell,” but then his attention slips down to the arc of her stomach. It bulges in accordance with her pregnancy and looming delivery date.
Castile peers up with a lifted brow, his expression still softened and amused. ”Which one had the weak pull out game?”
Suddenly, the chaos that swept across Beqanna has silenced.
Castile listens, waiting, to the breeze and the whispers carried on its wintry gale. The reptiles scampering across the sundried ground hiss but still carry no word of anything. The world is stunned into silence as it recovers from mayhem and bloodshed. Weeping parents nestle against their living children and lovers embrace as though for the very last time.
And all he can do is watch.
He observes with lazy, half-lidded eyes until a note – no, not just one, but a few – of familiarity encompasses him. Each scent is a hook sinking into Castile’s mind, reviving him from a brief nap on a rolling hillside. Next to him, a cactus stands sentinel. He spares it a single glance but his attention spans beyond it when Starsin enters his peripheral to confirm his thoughts. A lopsided, boyish grin tips the edges of his mouth as he spurs forward and joins her underneath the winter sun.
”I really wish I could read your mind,” he comments when he draws near enough to be heard, his eyes twinkling in amusement, but he doesn’t elaborate until they’ve stopped. They’re near enough to touch and yet he doesn’t make a gesture to. Instead, he quips with a lighthearted tone. ”Because I’m really curious who you find better in the sack. Litotes or Ophanim,” her body is riddled with their scents, permeated like she had only just left them in the dead of night after a wild rendezvous. Castile’s head inclines as a boyish expression adds a touch of youthfulness to his face. He speaks to her not in a business or stern manner, but as friends would – lighthearted, humored. ”You can tell me. I promise not to tell,” but then his attention slips down to the arc of her stomach. It bulges in accordance with her pregnancy and looming delivery date.
Castile peers up with a lifted brow, his expression still softened and amused. ”Which one had the weak pull out game?”
castile
@[Starsin]