Salvation’s Gotta Come

Luka

I know there are angels singing somewhere
I hope they sing for us

If anyone is meant to be telling her off for bathing, Luka wouldn’t know the first thing about in. In fact, he kicks off his shoes and turns to stick his legs into the water; all the better to prop his elbows on his thighs and watch her wade over to him.

Halovians are usually as blunt as Luka is, so the catlike subversion she displays is intriguing. “Incapable of spinning it into something worthy of a tale?” It would be a snipe if it weren’t for the cock of his brows, the slight twitch of a smirk in the corner of his mouth. “Maybe it’s because Safrin’s gone?” For an Accepted, he doesn’t know much about the magic behind regional benefits, but it’s clear from the gigantic star-themed building behind him that Vi’s herald had a hand in the fountain. Maybe her absence weakens it?

Extending a damp hand, he beckons her forward, certain but not cocksure. “Come here. Let me see.” But he’s still a guy, and a forward one at that, so he smiles and adds, “I can kiss it better even if I can’t fix it.”

For our bruised mouths are an act of resistance
and our singing hearts, together, make a beautiful prayer