06-11-2021, 11:23 AM
selaphiel
(Watching from some great distance while his mother worked so diligently to keep his sister from succumbing to the darkness, sticking close to the nearest border in case someone remembered that he was not welcome in Hyaline. And then even after Mazikeen had invited him to stay, he had made himself scarce simply because the habit had become ritual.)
But there is some strange shift in his chest when a figure emerges from the shadows and does not reek of death. (Is it relief or something else entirely?) He stops short, the young angel, but he is not afraid. Even as time begins to slow around them (and, with it, his heartbeat) and Sela wonders if it is the boy’s doing or some residue left over from all that darkness.
For a long moment (made even longer by the way time stretches long and thin), the two boys simply look at each other. Selaphiel is much too solemn, you see, to ever speak unless spoken to. He does not smile at the winged boy, though they are similarly aged. He does not look at him and think that he might be a potential friend, not because they could not be friends but because there is something severely skewed about his concept of friendship to begin with. No, there is nothing for him to say at all until the darker boy asks his question and invites Sela to answer.
“I don’t know,” he offers, the only honest thing. He has only ever been one thing and it occurs to him that he has no way of knowing if it’s hot or if it’s cold. He blinks while the dust drifts through the air like snow. “How can I tell?” he asks softly.
I just bite my tongue a bit harder
@[Leoniidas] sorry for the delay the depression has been REAL