04-16-2019, 05:16 PM
Ophanim
He would burn for her. He would set nations heaving in torment if it meant another perfect smile would sculpt across her face. Ophanim is a gentle soul without a thread of cruelty to him, but for Starsin the whole of Beqanna would break beneath the shadow of his wings. The lives would be a fleeting nothing in his eyes compared to her, the sun of his existence. The world is ink black when she retreats from his touch save for the lightest weight of his wing across her perfectly sloped back. He wants to pull her back to him but he is not coarse or rough enough to demand such things from her. Instead, he merely watches her with his brows twisted into the shape of concern and fear.
She did not want him. She did not want the perfect family he dreamed of.
His prayers turn to ash while his heart collapses around them in sharp-edged fragments. Ophanim has no idea how to raise children even after Jenova took great care to raise him into a strong, independent man. He hasn’t the first clue what a father should be or act like. Even still, something in him wants to learn, wants to sow a perfect life for the two of them. Together.
But then she speaks as the ugly eclipse has passed. Her side finds his again and he realizes he has been holding his breath since she first spoke. Ophanim exhales suddenly and laughs, perhaps out of nerves or embarrassment at his own vulnerability. There is no sign of regret even in his deepest thoughts despite the way his cheeks burn.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have no idea either. I think I’m always just diving face first into life,” he says with a light chuckle like honey and warm summer rays. “But living this way brought me to you so I’d say it’s working out pretty well for me so far.”
And then he kisses the side of her neck as he finally begins to relax again.