12-26-2020, 01:17 AM
Things had seemed peaceful on the surface, and sometimes she could let herself pretend that it was true.
The sound of Maea and Astin laughing as they explored their home and tested their abilities should have been a balm to soothe any unease that she had, and it was, as long as she didn’t think about it. As long as she didn’t think about the fact that Hyaline was not meant to be their home – not permanently. As long as she did not think about the way the days and weeks and months were passing, creeping closer to the deadline that Breach had given them.
She knew, just as Atrox did, that the twins were not shifters.
And the idea of taking them somewhere else, or the thought of them having to uproot the foundation they had built here, felt like a fresh bruise spreading inside of her chest.
She hears him approaching, and recognizes the sound of his footsteps without needing to look – the sure way that he walks, and the certainty of his steps when it’s her that he’s walking towards was something she had committed to memory long ago. “Atrox,” she breathes his name with a turn of her head, her skin simmering where his lips touch her. She returns the gesture, her own smooth lips gently pressing to the familiar curve of his jaw, stepping closer to settle herself near his chest.
She recognizes the weight of his voice, knows that it matches the weight inside of her own bones, and somehow that both relieves some of it, while also making it heavier.
The twins were close by, she can hear the way they erratically move – always messing with the clouds, creating their own competitions and trying to outdo the other – but they are far enough away that she knows they will not hear the clear anguish in her voice when she says to him, “Maybe she will let them stay just a few more months. They’ll be almost a year, then, and will have started to go off on their own anyway.” She knows even as she says it that it is not possible; knows that Breach was set in her ways, and that if anything, she would want to use the twins to set an example.
A trembling sigh, and she shakes her head and whispers, “I know. I know it’s not possible.”
The sound of Maea and Astin laughing as they explored their home and tested their abilities should have been a balm to soothe any unease that she had, and it was, as long as she didn’t think about it. As long as she didn’t think about the fact that Hyaline was not meant to be their home – not permanently. As long as she did not think about the way the days and weeks and months were passing, creeping closer to the deadline that Breach had given them.
She knew, just as Atrox did, that the twins were not shifters.
And the idea of taking them somewhere else, or the thought of them having to uproot the foundation they had built here, felt like a fresh bruise spreading inside of her chest.
She hears him approaching, and recognizes the sound of his footsteps without needing to look – the sure way that he walks, and the certainty of his steps when it’s her that he’s walking towards was something she had committed to memory long ago. “Atrox,” she breathes his name with a turn of her head, her skin simmering where his lips touch her. She returns the gesture, her own smooth lips gently pressing to the familiar curve of his jaw, stepping closer to settle herself near his chest.
She recognizes the weight of his voice, knows that it matches the weight inside of her own bones, and somehow that both relieves some of it, while also making it heavier.
The twins were close by, she can hear the way they erratically move – always messing with the clouds, creating their own competitions and trying to outdo the other – but they are far enough away that she knows they will not hear the clear anguish in her voice when she says to him, “Maybe she will let them stay just a few more months. They’ll be almost a year, then, and will have started to go off on their own anyway.” She knows even as she says it that it is not possible; knows that Breach was set in her ways, and that if anything, she would want to use the twins to set an example.
A trembling sigh, and she shakes her head and whispers, “I know. I know it’s not possible.”
R y A t A h
and you can aim for my heart, go for blood
but you would still miss me in your bones
but you would still miss me in your bones