FM station on the outskirts | aegean

[aegean]

Aegean

I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again

It is a testament to the solidity of their relationship—and perhaps to Aegean’s own ability to ignore so many things in the outside world—that he is able to think of nothing but the presence of Pteron. That he does not feel fear at the darkness or the things that surely crawl along within it. He only feels a strange kind of peace, weighty as it is, and a contentment that he can only find when pressed to the pegasus.

How he lived so many years of his life without the comfort, he will never know.

(He tries so very hard to ignore the years where they had been cleaved apart.)

Instead, Aegean merely smiles, pressing a cheek to the flexing shoulder and then following it with a brush of his lips. “They are strong,” he admits, knowing that between the two of them, Pteron had always been the one gifted with the strength of war. Aegean’s own strengths were different—but he does not disparage them. After all, it was the combination of the pair that had always resulted in the magic he so loved.

He opens his mouth to say something else, a laugh quickly following at his mate’s playfulness, but the shadow in the sky catches his eye too. He frowns, tilting his antlered head back to look at the darkness that seems to press in deeper to them. Something like worry bubbles up his throat for the first time, but when he turns to question Pteron, the words are stolen from him outright, and he can only stare.

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

@[Pteron]