"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
10-17-2019, 10:12 AM (This post was last modified: 10-17-2019, 10:14 AM by Valdis.)
how come I never got used to the feeling of sleeping in a cage? too long driving, too damn hungry; a tied-up hound but nothing stays
Her sigh is of conflict, of uncertainty. The forest holds Sinner’s scent captive, clutching onto it desperately to remind her of the cold evenings tucked into each other’s embrace.
But then the alternative is Litotes, a man that provided her compassion when the walls closed in and she was discarded, alone.
Every muscle quivers beneath her taut skin, trembling as she contemplates who to fold into tonight, who to distract her from this eternal solitude. Their names are both carved into her heart, the wounds still open and bleeding, likely to never truly heal. This is why, she recalls, she considered exploring the Mountain’s strength and test whether they could rip the heart from her chest. It would beat in their palms for a few minutes longer until the ice froze it over. Would they return it to her then? Or suture the gaping hole and dismiss her?
Fear clutched her throat and forced reconsideration into her thoughts.
With another breath, she turns to find Litotes, to see him again since their daughter was born on Pangea’s barren cliffs. His scent swims across her mind, never having truly left her memories. It guides her meandering path until she is in front of him, their eyes locking onto each other for the first time in months. A sheepish grin lifts the edges of her mouth as relief washes across her to once again be in his company. ”Litotes,” his name sticks to her tongue like honey, sweetly sinking into her taste buds. ”I’ve missed you,” she quietly adds as the setting sun paints her glistening body with shades of scarlet, pink, and orange. A slow step edges her closer, wanting the closeness and warmth again as her honest words hang suspended in the space between them.
i always wanted to die clean and pretty but i'd be too busy on working days
I’m a mistake, this he thinks as walks steadily from the confines of Pangea. Most days his self-deprecating ideation is mild, but there are some days that leave him so empty and exhausted that he cannot help but to feel like a speck of dust.
He dwells a lot lately on every creature he has let slip from his life. Kensa, Starsin, Castile, Valdis . . . all the way back to when he was a young man so full of hope: Rhaegor, Warlight, the once nurtured relationship he held with Kagerus and Solace. He is going on a decade of life now, at least half of that decade he spent hell-bent on proving every one of his naysayers wrong. Lie cannot help but to feel as if it was all for nothing, if now he is Nothing.
Nothing and everything, he thinks—that is what he is. Nothing to everyone, but everything in his own selfish ambitions.
His reverie is broken by the expectant gaze of another. Valdis. The cremello comes to a sudden halt, a brief flare of excitement lighting up his gaze. “Hi,” he breathes, the ghost of a smile on curling his lips. “Come here,” he murmurs, then steps into an embrace. Her chest is warm against his, and her mane has the comforting scent of autumn leaves. “I’ve missed you, too.” This he whispers reverently, like the word miss is a desperate prayer.
He did miss her, he just didn’t realize until he felt her skin against his. Litotes is hungry for it—starving. A piece of her mane tickles his nostrils, so he finds it with his lips and gives it a playful tug. The Archon takes a single step back and lingers where his check brushes against Valdis’.
“I forgot how good you smell,” he confesses, eyes twinkling with newfound life.
how come I never got used to the feeling of sleeping in a cage? too long driving, too damn hungry; a tied-up hound but nothing stays
This – they – weren’t meant to happen, and yet their desires made it so easy. An undammed reservoir, they fell quickly, relentlessly.
A breath catches in her throat when he pulls her closer, accepting their embrace immediately, like it was to be the last. Everything suddenly disappears as she melts into him, needing his warmth against her own. Their curves compliment each other, fitting neatly as she moves forward and trails her lips along his spine. His withers, his back, then back toward his neck where she gingerly presses a kiss and remembers the night Altissima was conceived. A low hum courses through her, smiling into his crest while he draws in her scent, tasting her, remembering her. ”I hoped you wouldn’t forget anything,” an airy chuckle slips past the soft curve of her lips, but in truth, she never expected him to remember such intricate details of herself.
Whatever has bloomed between them is untethered. It has no bounds, but what still surges excitement through her veins is how quickly it all sprouted, like it was meant to be. Some strange game of fate, or perhaps the faeries are simply playing with them like pieces of chess.
A part of her is afraid how easy this is, but a greater part is exhilarated by the sound of his voice and the compassion woven into every syllable. She loves it, loves hearing and feeling his tenderness toward her, but still her heart wrenches. ”You’re too good to me. You’re sweeter than I could ever deserve,” even as she sighs into him, she never pulls away, never wanting to be cold and alone again.
