10-06-2020, 10:07 PM
MALONE
kill me softly, your hold on me is somethin' i can't explain.
The confusion on his face must be visible in the way he tilts his head with furrowed brows. Not anymore? Was she a bird before, then? He hums softly as he thinks on the question before her own thoughts echo across his mind. His dark eyes drift from her wings to her face now. Others had found him beautiful before and so he isn’t entirely surprised by that part of it. Instead, he is curious as to why she’d touch the glowing lines of his face.
“You can touch them if you want. I don’t mind,” he says with a light shrug of his broad shoulders. And then he steps closer with his neck extended to offer his cheek to her. “I guess they’re common in my family. We all got them from my father.”
Malone has always enjoyed seeing the glowing lines in his reflection across the water’s surface. They make him feel connected to his children as well as his father, while the stars across his skin are reminiscent of his mother. Ophanim had often told him that he was the perfect embodiment of their love. He often wonders if he will ever know the joy of seeing that in one of his own children.
“If you find a good snowdrift, sure,” he says with a nod as he shifts his weight. “But if it isn’t deep enough then it can still hurt. I learned that the hard way.”
And then he laughs, unashamed of his past follies. They all make wonderful stories for him to retell now that he’s older and wiser.
“You can touch them if you want. I don’t mind,” he says with a light shrug of his broad shoulders. And then he steps closer with his neck extended to offer his cheek to her. “I guess they’re common in my family. We all got them from my father.”
Malone has always enjoyed seeing the glowing lines in his reflection across the water’s surface. They make him feel connected to his children as well as his father, while the stars across his skin are reminiscent of his mother. Ophanim had often told him that he was the perfect embodiment of their love. He often wonders if he will ever know the joy of seeing that in one of his own children.
“If you find a good snowdrift, sure,” he says with a nod as he shifts his weight. “But if it isn’t deep enough then it can still hurt. I learned that the hard way.”
And then he laughs, unashamed of his past follies. They all make wonderful stories for him to retell now that he’s older and wiser.