06-08-2019, 06:23 PM
and at once i knew
i was not magnificent
He has never encountered a ghost before.
Does not know how to convince a ghost that she is a ghost.
It has been so long since he last saw her, touched her, felt her, that she cannot possibly be anything but a ghost.
But her breath is warm as it shifts along the slope of his shoulder. And she smells so sweet that it puts a new ache in that bastard heart of his. He thinks that perhaps there is not enough room in the cavern of his chest for both his heart and his grief.
But she said she’d stay and that is enough for now. It is enough simply to stand here and remember their time together. He is selfish (of course, he always has been) in his refusal to think about anything other than how happy they had been once. Just the two of them.
“You can’t possibly be real, Plumeria,” he murmurs without lifting his head or opening his eyes. He does not want to think about the world beyond them. He does not want to think about the curious, prying eyes and bent ears, yearning for a glimpse of the storm-cloud muttering to himself.
“Everyone is gone,” he tells her and he sighs and it is a world-weary thing. “Our children,” he says, though he has not looked for them. So many years have passed between them. And, though he cannot possibly know it, so many terrible things have happened in the interim. “I hope you’re taking good care of them.” He lifts his head then, rests his chin on her withers.
“You were always so much better at it than me.”
son of caden & fray
once-king of the hidden tundra