[private] Sochi;

[sochi]

sochi

Sochi has developed her own moral compass over the years. Helping bring about the plague, and then being the first to rip into Rhonen’s throat, and then being there to help end it—it all developed the young woman that she is into the steely one that she has become. She does not waver in her convictions, no matter the fact that they may not match up with the rest of the world. She does not apologize for the way that she sees the world and the way that she acts in kind; her decisions hers and hers alone.

So she has no intention of stepping in his way should he choose the path of disaster.

She will protect their children, ensure their safety, but she has no great desire to keep him caged and muzzled—to see him domesticated. She does not see a monster when she looks at him and she does not fear the havoc that he can bring; she did not fall in love with him for his chaotic nature, but not in spite of it either. So she would not understand his fears and does not necessarily understand the way he falls quiet.

Still, she is not the type to prod and she does not pepper him with questions. Instead she lets him have his silence, lets him have his private thoughts and just watches him with her silver eyes, her own mind twisting and wrapping around the rhythm of her thoughts. When he reaches for her again, she folds into his broad chest and laughs into the curve of his back. “It’s a struggle sometimes,” her voice is husky and as warm as whiskey and she nips lightly at the curve of his shoulder, “but I find it in me to bear it.”

She pulls back just so that she can press her nose underneath the warmth of his bronze mane, finding the tender skin underneath. “Whatever is to come, we will face it together.”

well, I can try to get you closer but I know you’d break your neck just to see the stars
and if we don’t dare to hold it then this reckless wandering love was never ours