05-21-2020, 12:38 PM
----------------tell me: who do i run to?
At yet he’s here, standing in front of Pteron, and the child that Aegean grows is their child, a living embodiment of the love between them.
Excitement, anticipation, enjoying these last few moments that only the two of them will share. This is what having a child should be like, Pteron has learned. Though the realization that Aegean was pregnant had been a surprise, it was the sort of surprise that has kept him smiling all these months.
“Perhaps when we are old,” he counters warmly, pressing a kiss on the edge of his lover’s jaw, “When I have grown so wrinkled only you could love me, and you so blind I must lead you to fresh grazing. Perhaps then we might.” That there is so much life to occur in the time until then is an unspoken truth. Pteron will forever heal from any touch of aging, and it cannot reach the glowing stallion in front of them at all. A miracle, he thinks, that he has found Aegean so soon in this eternal life of theirs.
“I do know,” he answers, and any chagrin that might be in his voice is drowned out by the contentment that is surely there. He rests his cheek against Aegean’s and watches as his beloved colors the winter grey world around them in more colors than Pteron has names for. “I love you.”
-- pteron --