Brigade has been at war with himself for as long as he can remember.
His heart has been a vicious, bruising thing that has put him at odds with himself for as long as he knows. He has been wild and ruthless and then guilty and cruel. He has lashed out at those who have deserved it the least and then bit his tongue until his bled in his mouth. He is a contradiction of storms and he has no more tools to handle it, to curb it, then he did when it first began—when he was but a boy.
There is something like pity in her gaze, or something close enough that he cannot discern the difference between the two, and although it should cause him to bristle, it makes him ache. Makes his throat nearly close as he thinks of all the reasons that he does not deserve and would never deserve such a thing.
But it’s only when she steps back, so flustered by his question, that he frowns.
His face creases, brow furrowing, the broken edge of his blaze bright against the merlot of him.
“With me,” he affirms and wonders if that is maybe why she looks so frightened in the first place. Was it so terrible to have to live in the same land as him? He wouldn’t blame her if it was. “Although it is a big place so you wouldn’t have to see me often.” Or ever, if she didn’t want. It’s not like Starsin and him have run into each other frequently. They could avoid each other as often as they would like.
“To be fair, I don’t know if I have a home to offer you, but it’s there if you want it.”
It was the first time he had ever extended the invitation and it was a queer sensation. It was his home, after all, but it didn’t always feel that way. In some ways, he still felt like a captive of it, even though he knew he was just a captive of his own making. He just never could shake the shackles off completely.
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache
but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake