[open] buried it where bones are buried

[firion]

FIRION

Her smile is a cruel, beautiful thing and were he to have a heart in this form, it would perhaps catch. He would feel it trip and stutter, because her face—so fierce and sharp—nearly softens with the smile in the same breath that it grows in intensity. Like staring into a blizzard and seeing both the beauty and the death. He wonders if her mother had seen that when she had first opened her eyes.

Had she always been such a creature of cold?

But he has no heart and he can only respond with the howling of the wind and the increasing of flurries in the air between them. He can only reply with air that grows more frigid by the moment, winter gathering on the edges of the horizon like a promise made only for her. “I prefer no companion at all,” he lies and it comes easily, even though the shadow companion now severed from him yips in protest.

“It is much more difficult to disappoint that which doesn’t exist,” this at least is true.

There’s no self-pity in his voice to be found as the snow by her side begins to pile up. It gathers and gathers, quickly, until it stands above her shoulder and when he shakes, it falls down and he is revealed underneath. The snow sticks to his lashes and in his roped golden hair and his eyes are overbright.

“I have an ability to even disappoint the wind.”

so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas
all our worst ideas are borrowed (you do and don't belong to me)

@camellia