[private] Kensa;

[Castile]

and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was

He could take her now, hold her. There would be minimal resistance, if any at all, based on the way she looks up at him. Blanketed by the sunlight, her eyes are alive and vibrant as they level on one another, their bodies melting comfortably closer as the seconds leak into minutes. ”I’ll keep an eye on her,” he murmurs while registering to memory her daughter’s name and appearance. It won’t be difficult to find her, especially if her personality mirrors her mother’s.

But Castile hardly dwells on the topic of children. There are more pressing, more interesting, matters that harbor his curiosity. A head tilt, a lifted brow, and a synopsis of what is to come. Sylva will fall, he assures her while making no assumption as to where she and Hyaline will be. As much as he anticipates Kensa’s neutrality, he patiently waits until she confesses her stance. ”Good,” in truth, he doesn’t need extra resources or support to bring down Sinner. It should, hopefully, be an easy win over the dog.

But friends can always be beneficial.

”You have poor taste in friends if that’s your goal with me,” he smiles then, a short laughter gruffly escaping him, ”Haven’t you heard what a monster I am?” Reputations bleed through the community and poison the minds of strangers. They’ve confessed judgment based on the woeful cries of victims. At first, it bothered him. It ate away Castile’s conscious until he was a shell of his former self. He can recall his confessions and agony and regret to Ilma. He can still see the scars on Sabra and Solace. He can still see Klaudius’ corpse lying at his feet, mauled and burned.

It took years, but Castile has rebuilt himself and has helped forge an empire. They are not beneath him. The power behind Loess is a bridging connection of friends. Their effort has lifted him from the abysmal labyrinth of his mind, and so he tries to embrace the possibility of another friendship. It can benefit Loess, but it’s also a connection that lustfully allures him. Castile doesn’t turn away the prospect, but instead inches closer until his warm breath can reach the arch of her neck. ”I feel like you’d prefer to be more than friends,” his husky voice permeates the air between them as he hover his lips above her skin for a heartbeat before slowly retracting, ”especially with the direction you are leading Hyaline.” Somehow, perhaps indirectly, Castile succeeded in disrupting the monumental Sanctuary. The small empire that Solace and Kagerus built has successfully crumbled.

They gravitate to one another, her lips pressing into his own hot skin as she gives him one request, one order. Don’t lose, Castile. A mischievous gleam finds his mismatched eyes when he hears her voice caress his ears and how his name easily rolls from her tongue. ”I don’t plan to,” he whispers in return, their conversation steering down a path he never intended, not when Sochi is so precious to him. ”I will simply have to find use for a dark, uninhabited forest.” And then he leans against her, unable to resist any longer. Electricity pours through his veins, but he does nothing more, simply keeping himself longingly pressed to her, wondering all the reasons Litotes chose her.

castile