Aureus is incapable of having ulterior motives. Incapable of being dishonest. He was not always great at putting such truths forth—of giving himself openly to others—but he did not purposefully misdirect them. He was not cruel and he did not know how to deceive others. Did not know how to try and pull apart someone and then inject the kind of poison that would later pull them under.
So he just looks at her with his quiet, somber eyes.
Wishing that he was better at shielding himself.
Because she is so sweet and open and he wants nothing more than to be the kind of friend that she can trust. The kind of friend she relies on—the kind that stays. So his smile grows when she points out that they are made of the same magic. It feels like a connection, a tether, and he holds onto it tight.
“It’s not the sun,” he affirms, his serious lips tilting into a shadow of a smile. “I got it from my father.” Just like the sapphires on his hooves, the immortality that he has yet to discover runs through his very veins. “Do you look like one of your parents?” he asks as they move forward, not knowing that there would be some people that he would meet that would consider it a sensitive subject to broach.
He is quiet for a while longer, content to just listen to her as she answers his question. Finally though, he circles back to her statement because it has yet to leave his mind. Yet to not be tattooed on his heart.
“I like that yours is like mine too,” he whispers, not sure whether he hoped she heard him or not.
