I should have loved a thunderbird instead
at least when spring comes they roar back again
All of the aches that settle into his bones and strain his muscles dissolve at Pteron’s touch. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, a sigh as he curves against the pressure of the chin against his neck, and his lips pull into a dreamy smile. “My sister knows everything, I feel,” he murmurs, thinking of his illusionist little sister. Their paths had not crossed as much as he would have liked—after all, Aegean spent so much of his time following the trails of his own making—but he had always been impressed with her. It would not surprise him at all if Oriash had already learned of his mother’s return.
But the conversation does not linger here. Instead, it winds away and Aegean happily follows. His own laugh is rich and deep at Pteron’s teasing of Svedka’s taste and there is no jealousy to make it bitter. Aegean has never been one to believe in the taming of love. He has little desire to rein in Pteron’s heart or to claim it as his own. He finds deep pleasure in watching him wander—in seeing him gift his affections to those he comes across—and he reaches out to breathe a kiss against his cheek as if in confirmation.
“You will find that our taste in men is not a rare quality, I am afraid.” After all, who would not find themselves enamored with the pegasus by his side? Who would not want to bask in the warmth of his sunshine? Aegean could hardly blame those who were drawn to him like honeysuckle. “I would very much like to meet him.” He dreams of all of the different family members out there who he would be able to meet one day. All of the new siblings, and cousins, and those connected to him like branches shooting out from the same base. How magnificent to be connected to such a growing, living entity.
The question, as confident as it is stated, does snag his attention though and with great effort, Aegean clears his gaze to look at Pteron more fully. He searches his face for a moment, wondering at what lies beneath the surface—the scars that he buries beneath the smiles, the insecurities beneath the flirtation. For a second, he grazes his lips over the places where he know scars have been, the places he does not push for answers about. He can only imagine the things that Pteron has lived through in his years.
“I cannot imagine that we will ever truly settle, my love,” he whispers. With the statement, the ground around them becomes alive with vivid splashes of color. They spring up like sound waves around them, swelling as they splash against the trees, leaving traces of mauve and lilac and indigo in their wake. They arc over them both and then disappear into the soil, they crawl up the branches and begin to paint the sky in their supernatural brilliance. Smiling against the display, Aegean brings his gaze back down.
“But whatever we do, I am going to be happy so long as you are there. You know this.”
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead
(I think I made you up inside my head.)