Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Her shoulders sagged, as though weighed down by heavy burdens. Swallowing against guilt and grief alike, the waif-like ancient slowly rounded the altar and slumped down onto a stone pew. The dark velvet skirts of her dress pooled around her feet, blending into the shadows of the hall so that her hands and face seemed disembodied in the firelight. Hadama could be excused for thinking her a spirit; she looked like one. Felt like one, too. Getting tired of my own words
"I heard, about Harper," she murmured, pain lacing through her voice. "Hoped it was false, but..." Gesturing helplessly, words failed her. It was hard to process that he was gone. Used to long silence on his part, she found herself waiting for some sign of life. A letter, a surprise visit - a glimpse of his face across a crowded room. The thought that he was gone forever... it left her feeling hollow. More than just aggrieved; he had understood her better than any other, and over the years grew into more than just a friend.
As for Thalassa... Maea passed a hand over her face, too tired to cry. "I'm the one who is to blame," she said. "I nearly killed her. I'm sorry, for disappearing on you, but... it seemed like the only way to prevent hurting anyone else."
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
