DAMIEN
I know it's been a long time coming
I'm angry and I know that's weak
I'm angry and I know that's weak
Damien shifted his grip where she indicated, his hands steady on the fur as she bent over her work. The rhythm of it, her needle darting, his fingers keeping the hide taut, was the kind of quiet task he could lose himself in. Simple and practical. When she asked about the reading, though, he glanced up, catching the intent in her words. For a moment he almost said yes. There was something about her calm, unflinching way of speaking about the gods that tempted him to press further, to see what she might uncover about him.
But the thought of opening that door here, with strangers’ voices and firelight pressing against the windows, felt wrong. Too public, too soon.
“Not today,” he said after a beat, his tone gentler than his words. “But another time—Deepfrost, maybe. When the days are quieter.” His mouth tugged into the faintest half-smile as he loosened his hold, letting her take back the garment. “I’ll hold you to it.”
He straightened, giving her a small nod that carried more weight than any formal farewell, then turned toward the square. The cold was already gathering at the edges of the workshop’s warmth, and he let it settle over him as he stepped back into the street. Whatever answers she might find for him could wait. For now, it was enough to know they’d cross paths again.
But the thought of opening that door here, with strangers’ voices and firelight pressing against the windows, felt wrong. Too public, too soon.
“Not today,” he said after a beat, his tone gentler than his words. “But another time—Deepfrost, maybe. When the days are quieter.” His mouth tugged into the faintest half-smile as he loosened his hold, letting her take back the garment. “I’ll hold you to it.”
He straightened, giving her a small nod that carried more weight than any formal farewell, then turned toward the square. The cold was already gathering at the edges of the workshop’s warmth, and he let it settle over him as he stepped back into the street. Whatever answers she might find for him could wait. For now, it was enough to know they’d cross paths again.
fin
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
