oh, these wings, they flicker and my feathers stir
'til I'm an ancient soul in a cascade world
The darkness chases away his own self-loathing, but never far away enough to escape it completely.
Instead it lurks around the corners of his mind, always just a breath away in time, just right there should he need reminding of all the ways that he has broken things that should never have broken. It lives there in him, a curious and hateful thing, and so he turns from it, pouring himself into this moment.
He studies the fragility of her and his heart seizes in his chest as he realizes that the only thing between her and that which roams in the dark is himself. Himself and the star that comes toward them with startling force. Astrum is weak, he can tell, as if caught behind a veil and this hurts too, but he reaches up to her. She brushes against his nose, as if trying to tell him something, and if he feels the cold rage of her jealousy, it too is muted in the moment. He tries to discern what she is trying to tell him, tell them, but the darkness comes on stronger and she disappears in a blink—as if she had never been there at all.
Aureus swallows hard, trying to not make more of the moment than it was.
Shaking his head, he looks back to Hourglass and the fear for her, the worry for his companion, the unknown all collide in his chest—turning him colder than he has ever been. It hardens his usually soft edges, turning his concern into aggression. He has no way of knowing that the monsters have stolen his self-healing and replaced it with something darker. Has no way of knowing that the gift changes him too.
He catches her glance and with more force than usual, he whispers, “I need you to stop asking questions.” It feels like a command and if he is surprised by it, it doesn’t show on his handsome, angled face.
She had rejected him, but he could at least protect her now.
“Just follow me, okay?”
and I'm quick with the bullet when it comes undone
I got a head like a turret with a mouth for a gun
