07-20-2016, 05:09 AM
silence, like a cancer grows
Almost is a delicate word, meant for empty promises and hopeful possibilities - neither of which Argo held close to his stammering heart. He is, by nature, a hesitant soul. A mistrustful one. He has known nothing but the endearing, overly affectionate love of his parents, but in the midst of it, he watched the glee and adoration for each other slowly seep out of their eyes. Dead and weary of letting go, they remained, fragmented pieces of what had once been when he had only just been born. Their family had not almost fallen apart; it had most certainly fallen apart, before their very eyes, leaving them longing but powerless to stop it.
It had not been any of their doing - nor did the fault belong to any one individual. Instead, the wide-eyed defect Prince had seen the loved shared between his mother and father slowly unravel, fueled by their inability to communicate and each of their own stubborn pride preventing them from seeing it for what it was. Still, a part of him longed for it himself. A part of him ached for their relationship to remain; to maintain. He knew, by their averted gaze and cold shouldered approach that it was not going to happen, and it left a heavy ache within him. Wise beyond his years, perhaps in part to being so stifled and suffocated by his overprotective parents and siblings, he knew an undoing was when seen with his very own brown eyes.
Now, his breath lingers warmly against Neverwas' neck, pushing the angst of the inevitable to very deep recesses of his mind. He had not seen him in several days, though he had - as previous mentioned - kept to himself. He felt a swell of pride within his imperfect heart at the mere thought of being independent, though in reality, he knew little of his own capability (and often tired himself to the very brink of exhaustion; a dangerous place to linger for someone has truly weak as he). Alas, he never stayed away for long, and tonight, he longed to be with someone else.
With an amused glimmer in his doe eyes, he peers upon Neverwas, who takes to his wry jest with too much legitimacy.
"And I respect your privacy, Nevi - especially as your time has been so .. occupied with our sister as of late."
His youth wavers with these words. Though he still retains the delicate features of a growing colt, his intelligence is beyond what might be expected of him. An introvert with a desire to listen, to hear, to understand. He knew more than many expected he would, and he often used it to his advantage. His age, however, is given away easily by the gentle bite of jealousy lingering in his voice, though he did not know himself that the heaviness of his heart was due to much more than fatigue. He knew of Lieschel and Neverwas; not many were unaware. Their gentle touches and giddy whispers were enough to tip off the deaf and the blind, equally.
"You don't deal much with alone time these days. Is someone waiting for you?"
There is an unspoken tension in his voice, but he does not realize it.
Or if he does, he pays it no mind.
ARGO
the fragile ice prince.