i’ve been both a saint & a viper
He hesitates.
The familiar whispers (devilish, simpering voices that he’s come to find almost comforting) remain silent after their final decree, their grip on his body and mind relinquished. He cannot help but fear how long this moment will last - a semblance of peace and clarity - and at the same time, feels a lurch of excitement in his stomach that flutters up through his heart and into his throat. The sense of foreboding still clings to him like a fog, hovering over him as a heavy cloak, thick and unmistakable. It is easy to ignore, though, for the time being because at the mouth of the cave is freedom: Keeper.
Her scent is glorious against the smell of stagnant water and still air; it makes him feel truly alive, despite the monsters that keep him beneath lock and key. His hooves click carefully on the damp stone, finding purchase expertly as he weaves himself through the twisting tunnels, eager to find her standing at the entrance like a shining beacon. It’s me. The sound of her encouragement allows him to leave the demons and the shadows behind him, feeling unafraid in this moment of clarity, wondering solemnly how long this bravery could possibly last.
It’s as if time hasn’t passed, suddenly, as the dark of his nose peeks out from beneath shadow and glistening stalactites. All those lonely and terrible years inside the stone of his cave seem to fall away into nothingness, almost as if he cannot even remember the torment that so rottenly plagues his mind. The sun meets his skin - even though it is meters away as it spills through the open mouth covered in thickly strewn vine - and he immediately shies away, that same fear and helplessness clouding his eyes. He can’t find the will to move further forward, towards her, and he feels as though he might collapse at the idea that he may only get to catch a glimpse of her.
But his fears are quickly put at ease as she confidently comes to where he is, a shuddering sigh of relief audibly leaving the onyx of his mouth. Her touch sends his body shivering, suddenly craving the intimacy of another more than he could even dream of - even just a shy brush of her mouth against his jawline is enough for him to melt, to relax, to find himself dreaming of different circumstances.
“You know I’ll always be here,” he murmurs back, his voice disgruntled and dry with disuse, yet somehow so warm despite the cold blackness of his cave. He cranes his neck to embrace her, ignoring the terrible chittering that echoes in the deep chasms behind them. You’ll always be here, they chant and sing patronizingly, keeping their distance but reminding the stallion that they are never truly gone. His eyes squeeze shut almost painfully and he takes a sweeping step towards her to keep her close, relishing the warmth of her supple skin and the safety it brings to him. “Just like I know you’ll always find me.”
Balto