He waited, for manners of approval or lack thereof, smiling as he watched her either daze off or return to their sanction. While she studied his paper, he did the same to her, careful and exact, trying to pinpoint where any notions or thoughts seemed to blend astray; if she was ailing, hurting, or otherwise unwell from the child growing within. When nothing came to light, his gaze adjusted, brow arching as she perused and gathered her thoughts.
Deimos was not one to place his, or her’s, sentiments onto a babe who’d be capable of becoming someone for themselves. No long, daunting Sword shadows, no hovering Evergreen beacons. Choices, nuances, and journeys would be carved in their own namesakes, and not for their parents – so to even begin outlining details of their lives into another’s seemed presumptuous and difficult to him. He wouldn’t, and neither would she, and so the youth could have a backdrop of the shelter, the world, they’d come into instead. “I like that,” he murmured in return, already beginning to alter the design on another draft; charcoal mixing along the darker wood and leaving the white imprints of the luxere alone. “Sounds good.” Pausing, wondering about sentimentality, his eyes lifted back to hers. “Do you want me to make it, or shall we construct it together?”
Deimos was not one to place his, or her’s, sentiments onto a babe who’d be capable of becoming someone for themselves. No long, daunting Sword shadows, no hovering Evergreen beacons. Choices, nuances, and journeys would be carved in their own namesakes, and not for their parents – so to even begin outlining details of their lives into another’s seemed presumptuous and difficult to him. He wouldn’t, and neither would she, and so the youth could have a backdrop of the shelter, the world, they’d come into instead. “I like that,” he murmured in return, already beginning to alter the design on another draft; charcoal mixing along the darker wood and leaving the white imprints of the luxere alone. “Sounds good.” Pausing, wondering about sentimentality, his eyes lifted back to hers. “Do you want me to make it, or shall we construct it together?”
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
