Words hung above but never would form
Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn
Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn
This is strange. Koa has never been a particularly pious sort. Sure, he's gone to Temple with the rest of his family, taken the requisite theology classes in school. If asked, he would say he feels A Healthy Amount of Respect for Caido's deities, coupled with Some Sensical Fear.
But now, with Safrin's touch flame-hot on his skin, the smell of lilacs rolling off her, so tangible and real? Now Koa understands why men have committed their lives to the service of a higher power. It all makes perfect, wonderful sense. For surely there is no grater calling, than to offer ones love up to a god?
"True love isn't transactional," he declares boldly, staring ardently at those galactic eyes. It's a trap, and he doesn't care. He's a Natural, after all, and a Breaker at that. He was taught to love the Gods without condition or question. Add to that a dash of heroism, a teaspoon of ego, and an endless search for some greater purpose, and, well, there you are. The perfect recipe for a Safrin Stan.
"I would love you like I love the sky, or the ocean, or breathing - whole-heartedly and without expectation of anything, only the hope to be worthy of your regard," he concludes, with the most dashing smile he can muster while simultaneously trying not to turn to jelly in her hands.
But now, with Safrin's touch flame-hot on his skin, the smell of lilacs rolling off her, so tangible and real? Now Koa understands why men have committed their lives to the service of a higher power. It all makes perfect, wonderful sense. For surely there is no grater calling, than to offer ones love up to a god?
"True love isn't transactional," he declares boldly, staring ardently at those galactic eyes. It's a trap, and he doesn't care. He's a Natural, after all, and a Breaker at that. He was taught to love the Gods without condition or question. Add to that a dash of heroism, a teaspoon of ego, and an endless search for some greater purpose, and, well, there you are. The perfect recipe for a Safrin Stan.
"I would love you like I love the sky, or the ocean, or breathing - whole-heartedly and without expectation of anything, only the hope to be worthy of your regard," he concludes, with the most dashing smile he can muster while simultaneously trying not to turn to jelly in her hands.
Koa Carpenter
Mama said, burn your biographies
Rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams
Rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams
