10-16-2021, 11:47 AM
selaphiel
Because he has never felt anything quite so sweet.
He has never known this kind of quiet excitement, something that borders on hope.
He has never had the opportunity.
But they settle in his chest all the same and he clings to them, because they dampen the panic that surges through him. Because he can still smell death in the air around them, even as they walk, because it comes from her. And he wants to know, even still, but he will not ask again.
He is content to succumb to silence because it is enough simply to walk beside her and feel these things he has never felt before. He catches a glimpse of her smile out of the corner of his eye and thinks, though it is slight, it is the sweetest thing that has ever been meant for him.
She wants to talk, she says, but she wants to talk about him. His heart twinges and he grimaces, looking away. Because he can’t help it. Because there is nothing that he can tell her that won’t cast a pall over this quiet walk through the forest where he had spent so much of his youth.
He shakes his head, summoning up a slanted, rueful smile. “My name is Selaphiel,” he tells her, which feels like the safest thing to share. Though there are certain connotations, even still. Because he is Selaphiel and a name has never been just a name, it has always been the things connected to it. He is Selaphiel and he has never known a waking moment not tinted with worry, panic, dread. Because he can smell death on each and every one of them, whether it be theirs or someone else’s. Someone they love.
He swallows, exhales a shuddering breath. “What’s your name?” he asks in hopes that they might share the burden of being known.
I just bite my tongue a bit harder
@keyna