I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again
The two remain suspended in time and it is what Aegean imagines it would be like to fall into the deep, deep blue of the ocean—the weightlessness he feels when he meets the olive green of his companion’s gaze. “I like that you don’t do it often,” he breathes quietly, and he is grateful for the way the darkness feels like a cocoon, the way he doesn’t need to raise his naturally quiet voice to be heard here.
“That makes it special.”
He doesn’t know why it feels important to have something special between the two of them, but it does, and he cherishes it—cherishes the feeling of sharing something. For someone like Aegean whose heart knows no limits (who understands no boundaries), it’s a queer feeling and he sinks into it slowly. Let them have this one thing, he thinks, and when his eyes flick up again, he thinks, perhaps two.
Pteron takes another step forward and the space between them grows more tense, taut, and Aegean does not hide the way that he looks at the other boy. He wonders what it would feel like to drag his mouth over the silken skin of his neck, to find that dip of his throat, to know—to know. But in much the way that they remain suspended, he finds that he is afraid of disturbing the calm waters of it. Afraid to break this moment when it feels so absolutely and completely perfect being trapped in the middle of it.
“I would show you anywhere you’d like to see,” he says earnestly, his velvet lips curving just slightly, his amethyst eyes not blinking or moving away. “Although this may be my favorite place now.” They are so close that he imagines he can feel Pteron’s breath, can imagine it rolling across the space between them, and he takes a while to break away, to finally let the closeness and seclusion snap for the tour.
But, eventually, he does.
With a soft exhale that sounds like a sigh, Aegean curves his antlered head outward and feels the weight of space open up between them as he steps forward to lead the way. The tension remains a palpable thing and he feels his stomach clench with it as he parts his illusions like curtains, the heavy fabric of the stars and constellations rippling to let them pass. With a breath, the galaxies that spin by their sides turn to the ocean he has imagined them floating amongst and they walk as if on the ocean floor, surrounded by the finest specs of algae and the faint call of the humpback whale, shadows dappling the floor beneath them.
Aegean smiles as he angles his head toward Pteron.
“I am afraid most of my favorite places live within my head,” his breathy voice ends on a laugh as he turns his gaze outward again and it is only when they reach one of the more secluded shores of the lake that he lets the illusions fall away completely. They ripple and fade to let the pink glow of dawn wash over them, casting the water in that beautiful glow. Aegean stops, the water lapping at his gemstone hooves and finds Pteron once more. “It’s calmest during the morning. It’s when I love it best.”
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
@[Pteron]