little do you know I’ll love you ‘til the sun dies — misfit

[Briseis]

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece

When Chryseis had been born, she hadn’t been sure how she would feel about her, either. Briseis is not like most, in several ways. She did not grow up fantasizing about love, and children, and family – she had focused only on surviving. For someone that disliked being alone, it had somehow become her only source of comfort. She had grown used to lingering on the outskirts, in the shadows, with minimal contact. Having Chryseis had unsettled the balance that she had found, and the bold little girl had drug her into the light when she would have often preferred to still be in the dark, but she didn’t regret it.

Her newborn son was different.

He had stirred alive another part of her that she still hadn’t known existed. Somehow, there was love blossoming in a garden that had been cultivated with pain and despair, and it blooms throughout her entire chest when she looks at him. She doesn’t see Tunnel anymore when she looks at him; she sees a handsome grullo boy, with blue in his mane and blue down his back and blue in his eyes. He looks at her, and every fragment of her tattered heart is his.

The little sounds that he makes as he tries to get his feet beneath him stirs a smile to her face, pressing her muzzle into his side to help him balance as he stands. Her lips continue to caress and inspect him as he nurses, as though afraid that somehow, between the moments in which he had been born and to right now, that something could have possibly happened. She doesn’t mind the feel of his milky mouth against her side, and as he comes back to the front of her she reaches for him again, unable to keep herself from cradling him against her chest. Her lips pull gently at his forelock, then trail down his face, as she murmurs into his poll, ”My little misfit,” Because he was. He wasn’t supposed to happen, and she had been so intent on avoiding his very existence – as if she possibly could – that she hadn’t even thought of names. She doesn’t worry about it right now, though, and instead she basks in the feeling of holding his precious body, of still caressing her lips down his neck and over his small back. ”I’ll never let anything happen to you. I promise.”

BRISEIS

underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind