[se] the poems we write

Evie

Come rest your bones next to me
And toss all your thoughts out to the sea

Sitting on the floor has become a little too difficult with the growth of her belly, so Evie is perched on the footstool for the rocking chair beside Deimos, idly swaying it back and forth with little twitches of her heels. She sits soaking in the half-completed room, enjoying the plentiful sunlight streaming through the light, gauzy curtains, and startles slightly when Deimos holds out the diagram to her. Refocusing, she takes it with light, eager fingers, settling it over her lap to peer over it. The wolves and luxere are perfect foils of dark and light, both representing loyalty and family, all set on a backdrop of the home they both love so dearly. Her eyes soften visibly as her fingertips trace just beside the luxere, careful not to smudge the charcoal.

"I love the figures," she murmurs, equally pleased that he hadn't chosen to go with representations of the Evergreen and Sword such as cats or unicorns. A weight of comparison she doesn't want for their child. Tapping her finger near the notes he left, she leans sideways slightly to bend their heads together for consideration. "I think darker wood will make a great backdrop if we paint the wolves white, and the luxere can glow that way." Whether they'll need to paint it or he can craft and conjure the crib with the colors imbued is a matter of technicality. "These bars are safest, but I think lattice down here where the baby won't be?" Her eyes go to his from beneath her ginger fringe, gauging whether he agrees.

I'll pull up each of our anchors
So we can get lost, you and me