all the weight of my intentions; magnus

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

She could never frighten him off, he thinks. Never hurt him. His heart has been battered and bruised so many times—by those who have left, by those who have betrayed him, by those who have died. It has been something that has happened slowly and all at once, and he has learned how to live in the aftermath of that moment. He has learned to live with pieces of himself gone missing, of pieces that he has learned to stitch together, and he has come to accept this new patchwork version of himself.

But he does not feel incomplete when she lays her cheek on his chest.

He doesn’t feel the pieces of himself missing, doesn’t feel less than.

He just feels himself drawn together, at peace, with the steady knowledge that he has finally found the port he has been looking for—the home for which to rest his head. So he doesn’t startle when she pulls back because he recognizes the ache in her heart and the way that this is both thrilling and terrifying. He doesn’t hold it against her or even not understand it. He just smiles, gold-flecked eyes soft.

When she comes back to him, he is tender and quiet and accepts her version of an apology. He laughs under his breath, looking upward as the wind catches his mane and glides down the curve of his neck. “I don’t mind the wild,” he says, pensive, his sooty lips curved upward in the corner, “but I certainly don’t mind a group of boys either.” She talks about her other children and he just presses a kiss to her skin, tasting the sweetness of it as it lingers. “I would love to know more about them.”

Because they are of her and it doesn’t matter that they are not his—because they are now. In his heart, he has claimed them, loves them as much as his own children that roam wild and free. The children that no longer even live on this earth because decades have passed since their birth. “I can tell you about my children too,” he says quietly, and there is ash in his throat that makes the words a little hoarse. 

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine