[private] like an echo in the chambers of my chest; charlie

[caledonia]

there's a voice that pulls me stumbling through a symphony
and the less of it I need, the more I get

She doesn’t truly know that her appearance has changed. That the milky blue of her eyes has cleared, leaving one a startling ocean blue and the other a deep gold. She simply knows that the veil has been lifted and, suddenly, the world cast in darkness has come into a startling clarity. Suddenly, she is able to see all of the things that had once been removed from her—letting her appreciate every fine detail.

Such as him.

He is no longer just a voice and a dull, shadowy outline. Suddenly, he is real and live—and she is not surprised at all to find that the young boy is a handsome man now. She appreciates the way that his wings tuck by his sides and the freckles on his shoulders. The lines of a maturity showing in the way that he carries himself. She has no ability to hide her appreciation, to obscure the way that she takes him in.

It causes her to stall, to not realize that she has taken several moments to reply. When everything comes rushing back to her, she realizes that she’s been quite for too long and, if she could blush, she would. Instead, she dips her head, a soft smile touches the edges of her lips.

“It’s me,” she affirms, wondering if that was disappointment in his voice. It’s certainly not the same excitement that had laced through her earlier question and it spears straight through her. She shuffles her wings and glances down, frowning a little before looking back up to find his gaze. “I’ve just been wandering again,” there’s a hint of self-deprecation in the answer, as well as a call back to their earlier meeting. “I didn’t mean to bother you. I just thought maybe it was you.”

She pauses before continuing, “I’m not always good at recognizing people now that I can.”

’til I'm swept up by the shape of all the centuries
like an echo in the chambers of my chest

@[eucharist]