[private] [Magnus] i don't wanna slow dance in the dark, the dark;

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

If only he was able to crack open his ribs. If only he was able to break it apart and show him the mess that lives underneath. The ways that he has been hardened and softened, broken apart like soil and then shattered like glass. If only he could show her the bruises that exist, spidering across his very flesh, or the lacerations. The places he has loved and the places he has lost, somehow always more numerous.

How could he ever show her his failures? His most broken spaces?

The image of his mother washing away in the flood.

The image of Joelle breaking apart by Trashlip’s hooves.

The image of Minette fading into the distance.

Over and over and over again.

He frowns as he glances away from his daughter, finding her eyes and searching the depths of them for a moment, silent as he takes in her words. He weighs each one, contemplating them, before he tries to find the right words to respond. “I trust you, Aysel. I am so grateful to have you here.” His words are slow, Magnus emphasizing each one of them. He wishes he could say more. He wishes he knew the words that would help him truly communicate how much her mere presence meant to him.

It brought a piece of home into Tephra.

Every time he looked at her, he saw the jungle and the vine, and now she was raising one of his own in the way of the Amazon. His eyes are expressive as he watches their daughter before looking back up her mother, fierce and intelligent and sharp in every way. “You will both always be part of my life,” he finally says, holding onto her gaze. “I couldn’t imagine not having you there now.”

If only he could promise her more.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine