[private] oh, these wings, they flicker; desire

[aureus]

Aureus

oh, these wings, they flicker and my feathers stir
'til I'm an ancient soul in a cascade world

If he was a smarter man, perhaps he would have picked up on the fact that something was wrong.

Perhaps he would have picked up on the fact that the Hourglass he had known would never have spit such poisoned shards his way—would never have held his own insecurities against him like this.

But he has never been particularly talented at reading others.

He has always been too wrapped up in his own head. Too interested in the makings of his own mind.

So he doesn’t doubt her when she steps back, when even the softening of her face is couched in the sharpness of her words, in the way she knows just how to press the soft points of him to break apart.

“I tried to hide away,” he admits, unable to be honest with her. “I was scared of what would happen if I saw you again.” He swallows, uncomfortable with these truths but more uncomfortable with the sharp words pointed his way—with the way she looked at him with such disgust. It was deserved, he knew.

“Scared of what would happen to you,” he exhales, “to me.”

He wants to step closer again, but he doesn’t trust that she won’t step away again—and he is not certain how he will handle it if she does. He is not certain how he will keep himself together if she rejects him.

He is not certain that he should not be the one keeping the distance in the first place.

“I am not much braver than the first time you met me.”

Although perhaps he is more cowardly still.

and I'm quick with the bullet when it comes undone
I got a head like a turret with a mouth for a gun