05-05-2018, 08:32 AM
we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
She leans into him, and there is an audible sigh that rattles from his navy lips as she does so. The heat of her skin palpitates with the sorrow within her, heavily laced on her breath and weighing down on each part of her ebony body. The Overseer feels the warmth and wetness of her tears against his auburn flesh, staining him with her grief and even he, as his cerulean gaze remains unwavering across the wrinkled blue of his ocean, feels the solidity of a lump in his throat and heat pricking behind his eyelids. Their relationship is built on trust and what feels like an existence, being the oldest members of Tephra since Warrick’s arrival many years ago. He could almost consider the fire healer as a sister, but even then he feels as if that title is too casual - there is a deeper part of their bond, forged in the fires of the volcano and meant to run through their veins for perhaps their entire lifetimes. He knows not why her heart breaks, but his breaks for hers all the same. Warrick feels her inhale deeply - quieting herself against him, mumbling against the sound of the ever-moving sea. His eyes slowly find hers, but she is not searching for his just yet. His gaze implores her to tell him what is wrong as he considers her gentle features that quietly scream agony, but the Overseer remains silent and patient. He will not push her into a confession, nor would he ask one of her. He would not be offended if she did not tell him specifics, or even anything at all. His lips pull into a soft frown, a snort leaving his navy lips. He does not know exactly what she is referring to, but he can empathize with her statement. Before he had found Tephra, he had wanted things to be different than they had been. An absent father, and a disappearing mother and sister - he had thought his life would be extremely different than what had been given to him. It felt unfair and hopeless, and though it took many years for him to realize that his life is different than he imagined, he would not change what he had now.
“It is okay that your hopes are not meeting your reality,” he tells her in response, for it is all he can give her. She is not wrong that her life is nowhere near her expectations (though he has no idea what expectations those might be - might have been). “There is nothing wrong with wanting dreams to be made real.” His voice is final, and he uses that time to swallow hard. It is as if he is speaking to himself.
She finally allows her gaze to find his, and his deep ocean eyes are waiting for her. His frown - kingly and solemn - grows darker as his eyes become shadowed beneath a furrowed brow. There is anger there, momentarily, and it flashes across his stern face like a wave. “You are no fool, Amorette. I do not suffer fools, and will not allow yourself to name yourself as one.” The Overseer snorts sharply, his mouth in a hard line. He pauses like this for a moment before his face softens, touching her the white star on her forehead with his muzzle. “So do not apologize, my friend.” His breath huffs against the darkness of her forelock, gently moving it from her tear-stained eyes. He pulls back, looking into her eyes once again, his gaze serious.
“I was so terrified when I could not find you, Amorette. You are a backbone to this country, even though you may not feel like it. You are needed here, always.” I need you here, always. He is shifting the conversation slightly, but her return made it all the more evident that he needed to let her know how valued she truly is. “You are my advisor, Amorette. Please allow me to give you such a title.”
Warrick
@[Amorette] <3