tear me to pieces, skin to bone; cal pony

[Tiercel]

TIERCEL

Just past the edges of his well-worn confidence Tiercel can feel the creeping rise of nervousness trying to find its way in. That emotion comes without order from himself. Islas had brought it on quite naturally, with her voided stare that somehow shows nothing at all but takes the shape of uncertainty because the corners of her brows are tilted together softly, and because everything else on her face belies that she’s ‘curious’ even if her gaze doesn’t.

The shimmering ghost-boy feels his heart thud once, twice, three times and then he inhales again and gathers himself together. “Steady now. Steady.” The young horse reminds himself, withdrawing the emotional connection between them. He doesn’t want the veil to be lifted; not just yet. So he works a few threads of calm and pleasure together in a rope that he binds around his throat. It tightens. He relaxes, visibly.

“Most can’t tell.” The impossibly still stranger murmurs. He tilts his cheek in her direction, hovers his dark blue mouth above the flyaway wisps of her nearly see-through forelock. “But you’re not like most. Neither am I.” And without emotions at all, Tiercel does his best to group them together. He can’t be sure of himself or why he says it but the truth of it rings around the tone of his voice, a pleasant sort of hum. No one he’s come across has kept him so… so fascinated like Islas has. “I hardly know myself sometimes. Who I am. Who I really am.”

Shifting altogether, his eyes and stoic face take in the grazers down below.

“Are you empty, Islas?” Tiercel smiles patiently. “Would you like me to fill you up?” Because he could. Any way she dreamed or desired

It's the same way you showed me // Nod my head, don't close my eyes

@Islas i've probably tagged you enough already lmao