resurrect the saint within the wretch
Even in the midst of a family that loves him without end, Warden finds himself lost in all these in between spaces of himself - the part of him that exists in the present, and the part of him that always has one foot in the future. It causes a divide, fissured and ugly, that cracks along the hardening of his heart and brings a sadness that, without his ability, he would never have known. It makes him lost even now; even when his whole body and mind fall into a whirlwind of spiraling feelings (ones that are gentle and sweet, tainted with something so foreign to him and yet...it is like a dream finally coming true) and thoughts, a myriad of tribulations with a desire for hope, for love, for something that would bring him peace. And he wonders, idly and absentmindedly, if she is that something.
And when his eyes - sad and bold against the stark of his bone-white face - turn to her, it is with the knowings of a thousand deaths.
Even her own.
Yet, he wonders, if death would even be powerful enough to break something so enchanting, so beautiful.
She speaks to him the things she doesn’t understand; the things he hides from her, keeps tucked in close (for what reason? To keep the darkness at bay? Even he, the Watcher, knows that hiding the truth often does anything to stop it from happening). He blinks slowly, lost in the fire-gold of her irises, finding their warmth and curiosity something he could sink into forever. But he is only proving her point, disappearing into his thoughts and the way that his mind wanders, never staying long enough. When the crystal of her lips pull the darkness of his forelock from his ivory forehead does his eyes truly come into focus, brought back to life and existence by her very touch.
She doesn’t know the truth in her words - how he is here with her, physically (and even mentally, at this moment in time) but he often he is elsewhere; lost within the future and its time, foreseeing death and destruction only to be brought back here, to this beach. He often came back alone.
“I don’t mean to,” he confesses gently, confirming her suspicions with a guilty flick of his eyes downward. “I don’t want to,” This part is said more bitterly, though still just as gentle, instead, his breath rushes from between clenched teeth. His brow furrows, something like anger shrouding the handsome planes of his face, and though he cannot help his resentment towards himself and his ability, he hopes he would soon feel the cool press of her mouth against the angry divots in his face, calming them with a sweet breath.
To feel her breath against the auburn of his neck, even with the fury of thoughts that run rampant in his mind, causes the horned stallion’s tense muscles to begin to relax. His pink nostrils flutter with a quiet huff, though he has not yet brought his eyes back to hers. He wonders if she can see the secrets he hides within them. “Take me with you, then.” There is a finality in his voice, his black-tipped ears tipping back only slightly in apprehension, wondering if he shouldn’t have made such a statement out loud. But Aletta’s voice rang true in his ears: ’Take your joy where you can, Warden. Illuminate your life with it.’
There is a gentle pause and this is when he finally lifts his eyes to hers again, those same ocean depths finding gold. Her twinkling irises and the laughter residing there brings his lips to twitch in a tiny smile, soft and barely there (but just for her), “They were definitely wrong,” he agrees with a rumble of a chuckle in his chest, bringing her closer to him by shifting his weight and drawing his white wing around her back and flank, shading her from the rising morning sun’s heat.
I don’t think I have forever.
He isn’t sure when, but at some point, his mouth had come to her cheek so that when those delicate, feeble words pass through her ruby lips, his kiss presses there fervently. The back of his eyelids burns as white lashes fall in closing, his vision of her in a million shattered pieces still sweeping across his mind. As if putting all of his affection and emotions into her would stop his vision from coming true. “No one has forever,” he finally breathes against her with a tightness in his throat, unable to take his ivory mouth away from her fire-red skin. “I’ve seen it.”
You’ve seen the endings. The reminder is bitter as it thrums in his mind; but for once, he feels ready to fight against the finality of his visions.
For her.
He’s wrapped up in her, the smell of her and the soft sadness in her voice. “Maybe we don’t need forever, though.” Warden’s voice is reassuring as it rumbles against the fragility of her rubied skin, his dark eyes looking deep into hers. “But I do know that I do need right now, right here, with you.”
@[flower]
