i always wanted to die clean and pretty
but i'd be too busy on working days
His love is a fickle thing, this Litotes knows. The Archon leans into that piece of himself, handing out shards of his heart as if they are worth no more than a penny. He knows that he cannot follow through on that love, not like he used to and not like he would like to. There was a time when he was guarded but optimistic—levels of scorn have cemented his heart, though, and all the love he has to give is weak and transparent.
They know, too—his children and his partners. They can sense that emptiness, the shell of a man he once was.
None know it better than Dawn, this he is sure of, and he tries hard to care.
Litotes cannot bring himself to be bitter about her absence. He knows that her recent months have been rough, and he knows he has never been one that finds it easy to share. Of course, he considers her his confidant and equal, but he likes making decisions and then running them by the palomino queen. That, and he feels too guilty to ask much of her. They used each other up, the Archon and the Queen, and anymore they may ask of each other feels hollow.
So, when he finds his co-ruler and occasional nest-mate curled beneath a cruel autumn sun, his heart clenches in his chest. He sighs, typically empty eyes welling with sorrow and exhaustion. How their past years have mirrored each other, something the cremello takes solace in. He must be strong, though—this he knows as he quietly walks to the shrunken woman.
“Dawn,” he whispers, then gently drifts his muzzle along her side. Litotes drifts to the ground by her back, tucking her into him with a drop of his head to her shoulder. “I’m tired, too.”
@[Dawn] it ok they be sad together
