06-02-2021, 11:23 AM
Her awe and wonder is intoxicating, the disbelief steeped in such open trust he is left entirely humbled by it. He’s not so certain that she should trust him so freely. Not with the memories of the last one who had trusted him so fresh. But he smiles in the face of her light, inspired by the marvel he finds there. It’s easy to forget just how incredible the universe can be, and without even trying, she had reminded him.
“Yes,” he replies softly, confirming that this is as real as the breath in her lungs. “I have no skill with illusion anyway.”
But with the darkness of the sky above and the raw edges of their broken world ripped wide, it is impossible to remain lost in such gentleness. With the phantom echo of it still in his heart, he regards the skyline with poorly disguised worry. It’s strange, but in a way her words are soothing. No one had asked if it hurt him to feel these things before. His gaze shifts to her, peering at her open features for several long heartbeats as he considers how to answer that question. “I suppose so,” he finally replies, a faint, thoughtful frown creasing the corners of his mouth. “But not in the way a sharp stick might pierce you. More like… the pain of heartbreak.” He pauses, a wry expression flashing across his features. “Does that make sense?”
He finds himself delighted in a rather odd way by her questions, in spite of the darkness of the subject. There is a purity in her that he cannot seem to help but be drawn to, a hunger for knowledge that is as familiar to him as his own skin. He had thirsted for more when he had been young, and it was a thirst that had led him down the dangerous and winding path to Beqanna’s heart. In the end, however, it had not been that which made him give his life for hers.
But he imagines he sees that other part of him in this woman too.
“I have seen it,” he replies then, a smile erasing the frown as he glances at her, fond memories dancing across his eyes. “Her heart is a beautiful thing. I gave my life to save her once.” He looks away then, worry returning as he lifts his gaze to the sky. Those eyes jump back to her in surprise when she presses her cheek against him, the downy feathers of her wings settling warmly across his spine. It eases the misgivings in his heart, bringing with it a kind glow he hadn’t expected. “She will live,” he continues slowly, his voice gentled by her reassurance, “but I’m not entirely certain at what cost yet.”
He stares at her for a long moment then, nearly undone by her kindness. When he finally moves, it is simply to press his lips to her brow, soft and almost imperceptible against the silken strands of her forelock. “Thank you.” He smiles then, realizing belatedly that he does not even know her name. “I have a terrible habit of getting ahead of myself. I’m Ten.”
“Yes,” he replies softly, confirming that this is as real as the breath in her lungs. “I have no skill with illusion anyway.”
But with the darkness of the sky above and the raw edges of their broken world ripped wide, it is impossible to remain lost in such gentleness. With the phantom echo of it still in his heart, he regards the skyline with poorly disguised worry. It’s strange, but in a way her words are soothing. No one had asked if it hurt him to feel these things before. His gaze shifts to her, peering at her open features for several long heartbeats as he considers how to answer that question. “I suppose so,” he finally replies, a faint, thoughtful frown creasing the corners of his mouth. “But not in the way a sharp stick might pierce you. More like… the pain of heartbreak.” He pauses, a wry expression flashing across his features. “Does that make sense?”
He finds himself delighted in a rather odd way by her questions, in spite of the darkness of the subject. There is a purity in her that he cannot seem to help but be drawn to, a hunger for knowledge that is as familiar to him as his own skin. He had thirsted for more when he had been young, and it was a thirst that had led him down the dangerous and winding path to Beqanna’s heart. In the end, however, it had not been that which made him give his life for hers.
But he imagines he sees that other part of him in this woman too.
“I have seen it,” he replies then, a smile erasing the frown as he glances at her, fond memories dancing across his eyes. “Her heart is a beautiful thing. I gave my life to save her once.” He looks away then, worry returning as he lifts his gaze to the sky. Those eyes jump back to her in surprise when she presses her cheek against him, the downy feathers of her wings settling warmly across his spine. It eases the misgivings in his heart, bringing with it a kind glow he hadn’t expected. “She will live,” he continues slowly, his voice gentled by her reassurance, “but I’m not entirely certain at what cost yet.”
He stares at her for a long moment then, nearly undone by her kindness. When he finally moves, it is simply to press his lips to her brow, soft and almost imperceptible against the silken strands of her forelock. “Thank you.” He smiles then, realizing belatedly that he does not even know her name. “I have a terrible habit of getting ahead of myself. I’m Ten.”
TEN
@[aureline]