05-28-2015, 02:42 PM
No one would ever claim Covet, not truly. Sure, they can hold his heart, his attention, his lust. But there are parts of himself that even he cannot claim to understand or know. He's an ancient creature that's spent a fair amount of time ignoring the deep intricacies of his own emotions. What man - what leader - is truly in touch with every part of their soul? No, that's women's work, to know yourself so intimately and deeply. Covet knows only his own surface, which is wrecked from decades of sledgehammers.
Myrina, though, sees more than she knows. She may never be aware of how deeply she's cut into Covet's surface and exposed the fleshy undersides. She's rubbed against parts of himself that are so raw and fragile they threaten to break down at any given moment. Isn't that the joy of love and desire? The absolute coming undone, the sweet release, the sickly fall.
It's why Covet forgets he's surrounded by two children of his own, both powerful little creatures with searing orange eyes and stoic, quiet dispositions. Thorunn wanders from the brush far enough to stand to the side of her father, not too close so as to be near her not-mother. Sister? She must be half, they look similar but not the same. Not like Val, the other side of her coin. Twins.
"Where do you live?" she asks her sister, curiosity overtaking her. Where would this sister live that Thorunn shouldn't see her until now, so close to her one year birthdate?
Covet turns to Myrina, content to allow the children to speak - to leave the adults to adulting. "I have strong genes," he teases.
Myrina, though, sees more than she knows. She may never be aware of how deeply she's cut into Covet's surface and exposed the fleshy undersides. She's rubbed against parts of himself that are so raw and fragile they threaten to break down at any given moment. Isn't that the joy of love and desire? The absolute coming undone, the sweet release, the sickly fall.
It's why Covet forgets he's surrounded by two children of his own, both powerful little creatures with searing orange eyes and stoic, quiet dispositions. Thorunn wanders from the brush far enough to stand to the side of her father, not too close so as to be near her not-mother. Sister? She must be half, they look similar but not the same. Not like Val, the other side of her coin. Twins.
"Where do you live?" she asks her sister, curiosity overtaking her. Where would this sister live that Thorunn shouldn't see her until now, so close to her one year birthdate?
Covet turns to Myrina, content to allow the children to speak - to leave the adults to adulting. "I have strong genes," he teases.