Luka
my aloneness feels so good
Luka has skated below the radar for his entire life. Content with his unglamorous beginnings, middles, and ends. If anyone would expect portents and mysticism, it wouldn’t be him. It must be some karmic joke then for him to hold rank amidst faces both strange and familiar, bearing witness to something so profound he knows he couldn’t have dreamed it himself.
Deimos and Talyson are the only recognizable faces, and he tries to hold space for that awareness amidst the barrage of knowledge(?) that he otherwise can’t look away from. This is so far above Luka’s pay grade that he can’t even fathom the implications on the surface, let alone the complexities that surely layer deeper. But he is a witness now if nothing else, someone who can corroborate stories and fill in gaps. It’s a duty he knows waits for him before he’s even been released, and the weight feels heavier than any lumber, injured calf, or backpack he’s ever shouldered. It feels like it will break him before he’s even opened his eyes.
But they open nonetheless, and Luka sits up in the dark of his room sweat-covered and breathing hard. He takes a long moment alone, mourning naivety and a life spent happily overlooked and unimportant. Then he throws his blankets back and emerges into the halls of his family home, eyes flinty with determination and duty. Luka knows he can’t carry this to whatever finish line may lie in wait, but the seed won’t die an early death in his hands either.
Deimos and Talyson are the only recognizable faces, and he tries to hold space for that awareness amidst the barrage of knowledge(?) that he otherwise can’t look away from. This is so far above Luka’s pay grade that he can’t even fathom the implications on the surface, let alone the complexities that surely layer deeper. But he is a witness now if nothing else, someone who can corroborate stories and fill in gaps. It’s a duty he knows waits for him before he’s even been released, and the weight feels heavier than any lumber, injured calf, or backpack he’s ever shouldered. It feels like it will break him before he’s even opened his eyes.
But they open nonetheless, and Luka sits up in the dark of his room sweat-covered and breathing hard. He takes a long moment alone, mourning naivety and a life spent happily overlooked and unimportant. Then he throws his blankets back and emerges into the halls of his family home, eyes flinty with determination and duty. Luka knows he can’t carry this to whatever finish line may lie in wait, but the seed won’t die an early death in his hands either.
I'll only have you if you're sweeter than my solitude
