from the mornings you ease to the evenings you quiet
I'm always thinking of you, I'm always dreaming of you
I'm always thinking of you, I'm always dreaming of you
Hotaru wrinkles her nose in impetuous girlishness at his dramatics, always delighting in such ridiculous play like a straightlaced princess getting heckled into rebellion by the farmhand only to fall in love with the feeling of being alive that he represents. It's not unlike how Sunjata makes her feel every day. "It is, interior design is far superior in the construction process," she huffs with dramatized haughtiness, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a way that intentionally slaps it over Sunjata's face - after his careful jostling of course, to preserve the structural integrity of her half-built castle.
Like waves, the ebb and flow of the moment pulls Hotaru alongside, and she subsides into focus as easy as breathing. Whatever Sunjata is feeling isn't hard to parse, but the existence of those cues is disorienting in the context of the topic. It blinds her to the possibility of anything like good news until the moment he drops it into her lap.
"She - what?" Hotaru flounders, utterly graceless in a way she'd be horrified to express in front of anyone but him. Kamaria is a...difficult topic to say the least, though Hotaru will never forget the tiny blonde girl reaching for Atlas with stars in her eyes, and the way her heart had ached like cello strings played with a taught, frayed bow. Helpless but to love any child, especially one with Sunjata's eyes. And with that in mind - and years of healing that they've worked so hard to cultivate in themselves and in each other - Hotaru pushes those conflicted feelings aside to revel in her happiness for him. "Sunny - gods, I'm so happy for you," she chokes out in a voice strained with the weight of her sincerity, reaching for him to bring him close, foreheads touching and one hand at his nape to squeeze firmly. "Why now? What - I should say, is she staying?" It's more of a whisper here in the intimate space between them, her hair a glowing curtain that shuts out the rest of the world. If the answer is no, at least he will have been able to hold her one more time. Hotaru knows how much that means.
Like waves, the ebb and flow of the moment pulls Hotaru alongside, and she subsides into focus as easy as breathing. Whatever Sunjata is feeling isn't hard to parse, but the existence of those cues is disorienting in the context of the topic. It blinds her to the possibility of anything like good news until the moment he drops it into her lap.
"She - what?" Hotaru flounders, utterly graceless in a way she'd be horrified to express in front of anyone but him. Kamaria is a...difficult topic to say the least, though Hotaru will never forget the tiny blonde girl reaching for Atlas with stars in her eyes, and the way her heart had ached like cello strings played with a taught, frayed bow. Helpless but to love any child, especially one with Sunjata's eyes. And with that in mind - and years of healing that they've worked so hard to cultivate in themselves and in each other - Hotaru pushes those conflicted feelings aside to revel in her happiness for him. "Sunny - gods, I'm so happy for you," she chokes out in a voice strained with the weight of her sincerity, reaching for him to bring him close, foreheads touching and one hand at his nape to squeeze firmly. "Why now? What - I should say, is she staying?" It's more of a whisper here in the intimate space between them, her hair a glowing curtain that shuts out the rest of the world. If the answer is no, at least he will have been able to hold her one more time. Hotaru knows how much that means.
the valkyrie
say my name, say I'm yours
promise we'll never be oceans apart
promise we'll never be oceans apart
totally sniped from odd ilu
