10-29-2020, 11:39 PM
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
He has learned that the world is bitter cold without his fire to warm him. Yadigar relies on the heat of the beach to keep him warm or nestles himself into the little pack of young drakes. But when Breach presses herself so tightly to him, it is the closest he has felt to comfort in so long. She begins to cry and he feels the corners of his lips dip into a brief frown at the sound of her sobs shaking against his scaled chest.
Even before, he was no good at comforting others.
He rests his chin over her neck and holds her close, engulfing himself in the impossible heat of her skin, because he doesn’t know what to say. What would a better man do?
“I still think you’re beautiful,” he offers her. And it’s true. Even if she’s caked in mud and he’s got no heart, he can tell she’s as lovely as she’s ever been. Maybe she can knit together little truths like this and make them feel like being loved. Or maybe one morning she’ll wake up beside him and realize how tired she is of all the waiting and the wishing. But until that day comes, he’ll handle her bruised heart gently and try his best to be whatever she needs.
He traces the delicate arch along the back of her neck as he tries to memorize the way her body feels against his. Someday, when this is all he has left, he prays it is enough to keep the winter-thin wolves of his loneliness at bay.
Even before, he was no good at comforting others.
He rests his chin over her neck and holds her close, engulfing himself in the impossible heat of her skin, because he doesn’t know what to say. What would a better man do?
“I still think you’re beautiful,” he offers her. And it’s true. Even if she’s caked in mud and he’s got no heart, he can tell she’s as lovely as she’s ever been. Maybe she can knit together little truths like this and make them feel like being loved. Or maybe one morning she’ll wake up beside him and realize how tired she is of all the waiting and the wishing. But until that day comes, he’ll handle her bruised heart gently and try his best to be whatever she needs.
He traces the delicate arch along the back of her neck as he tries to memorize the way her body feels against his. Someday, when this is all he has left, he prays it is enough to keep the winter-thin wolves of his loneliness at bay.