Deimos
Halo had always been an enterprising, stalwart structure; not necessarily needing nor wanting of other civilizations; a freedom all their own. Staunchly independent, it hadn’t stopped nor ceased the balance of improvement, but certainly assisted in multitudes of others. That they’d once more face semblances similarly didn’t surprise him either, but he’d keep striving and reaching out until something seemed to hit – wondering when it would be too late. Incapable of being complacent, they worked from within, battening down the hatches for whenever chaos threatened to spring.
But even in this, they took those small instances to remember they were people too, and not a collective unit of winter chisels and icy husks. He snorted at her tease and lure, wondering how far they could goad and push until something churned far too much; still, the spires were some distance away. There was a boyish inclination to let her linger there in the realms of mischief too, still and stoic, pretending not to be aware of any slights or beguiling; but in the end, she won over as he dipped his head lower, mouth sinking over hers for a longing, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, it was with a purposeful hooded expression, a smirk on his lips, and another provocation. “Enough?” He already knew the answer.
Thereafter though were tenser balms, and the emotions rumbling through his ribcage were not solid enough to give names. He understood some of their boundaries and bereavements, the way impending loss melded and molded against bones, the sounds of disappointment rattling in his heart, the echoes and pangs of Ru’s hurt and pain and anguish carved out in his marrow, and somehow fleeting in hers – as if none of them mattered. But they did to him; and maybe that was the problem. Even his words had felt strange on his tongue, an angle he hadn’t craved to grace but didn’t know where else to turn, until the sigh tensed through his frame again and he shook his head.
He hadn’t forgotten Evie’s dream – not from before – but their lives had been so quickly altered after that. “I know,” he murmured to both – never against strengthening and fortifying their world. It was everything else mustered and murky in between it, and his gaze fell on the ground, words heavy and laden on his tongue. “I apologize – I still do not know how to feel about her departure.” Because it felt selfish to be protective and irritated, to want her to be happy, and still see it plagued with so much doubt.
But even in this, they took those small instances to remember they were people too, and not a collective unit of winter chisels and icy husks. He snorted at her tease and lure, wondering how far they could goad and push until something churned far too much; still, the spires were some distance away. There was a boyish inclination to let her linger there in the realms of mischief too, still and stoic, pretending not to be aware of any slights or beguiling; but in the end, she won over as he dipped his head lower, mouth sinking over hers for a longing, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, it was with a purposeful hooded expression, a smirk on his lips, and another provocation. “Enough?” He already knew the answer.
Thereafter though were tenser balms, and the emotions rumbling through his ribcage were not solid enough to give names. He understood some of their boundaries and bereavements, the way impending loss melded and molded against bones, the sounds of disappointment rattling in his heart, the echoes and pangs of Ru’s hurt and pain and anguish carved out in his marrow, and somehow fleeting in hers – as if none of them mattered. But they did to him; and maybe that was the problem. Even his words had felt strange on his tongue, an angle he hadn’t craved to grace but didn’t know where else to turn, until the sigh tensed through his frame again and he shook his head.
He hadn’t forgotten Evie’s dream – not from before – but their lives had been so quickly altered after that. “I know,” he murmured to both – never against strengthening and fortifying their world. It was everything else mustered and murky in between it, and his gaze fell on the ground, words heavy and laden on his tongue. “I apologize – I still do not know how to feel about her departure.” Because it felt selfish to be protective and irritated, to want her to be happy, and still see it plagued with so much doubt.
what does it mean to look upon a ruin
we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
we are boneless. we are boiling hot blood.
