love is my religion. i could die for that.
It does not take long for the impossible boy to stretch his reach beyond his home.
He loves his mothers, loves his home, loves his family, but he hungers for more—hungers for the things he cannot see and touch and understand. And so he does. He finds himself in the playground, the land wholly different from his birthplace of the Cove and seemingly different from his true birthright home of Hyaline, or so he was told. Still, he is fascinated by it, dark purple eyes studying it all, wondering at what stories have started here, what friendships have been given root, what love has blossomed.
His heart thuds in his slender chest, his immortality rising above the disease that should have claimed him, and he steps forward, the soft glow of him nearly pulsing, although less in the light of day. He angles his head to the side, the sight of other children catching his attention. He is surprisingly quiet for a boy of such a young age, content to watch and think and lose himself in the beautiful patterns of his own mind.
But he is also not a recluse, nor particularly shy, and he eventually peels from his spot to make his way toward them, his steps graceful and quiet as he picks his own path through the bramble and weeds.
When he is close enough, he stops, watching them quietly for a moment—his gaze steady and perhaps disconcerting. His lips don’t curve into a smile but there’s a warmth in his young face regardless, a serene calm that will follow him all of his days. “Hello,” he breathes, youthful voice delicate.
Other words could come to him, could fill the space that separates them all, but none do.
Instead, he remains quiet, watching them both, galaxies spinning in his veins and spilling out before him.
i could die for you.