The softest crackle brushed the air—so faint it might have been chalk against stone, or a poorly grounded wire sighing somewhere nearby. The peppermint bark in Deimos’s hand sparked faintly at the corner before settling again, quiet as a secret.
And then—
"Boys!" Vox’s voice slipped through the stillness like a smile with far too many teeth. "How touching! And here I thought poetry was dead. Or at least sleeping. Or buried beneath paperwork and ice."
A gentle fizz, like radio static tickling the edge of a forgotten thought.
"Zavien, sweet Zavien, I felt that one." A beat—static, static, hum. "I love your way with letters. Très mysterious, very continental."
Then, the hum sharpened slightly.
"Deimos. Ever deliberate. So brooding, so sharp, so close to saying you care. But not too close. Just enough for me to want more."
A lingering crackle wound around the paper like a curious vine then receded with a final, satisfied buzz.
"Your offerings are accepted. Your styles... intriguing."
And just like that, he was gone—leaving behind the faint smell of ozone and the quiet impression that the ink had rearranged itself ever so slightly when no one was looking.
And then—
"Boys!" Vox’s voice slipped through the stillness like a smile with far too many teeth. "How touching! And here I thought poetry was dead. Or at least sleeping. Or buried beneath paperwork and ice."
A gentle fizz, like radio static tickling the edge of a forgotten thought.
"Zavien, sweet Zavien, I felt that one." A beat—static, static, hum. "I love your way with letters. Très mysterious, very continental."
Then, the hum sharpened slightly.
"Deimos. Ever deliberate. So brooding, so sharp, so close to saying you care. But not too close. Just enough for me to want more."
A lingering crackle wound around the paper like a curious vine then receded with a final, satisfied buzz.
"Your offerings are accepted. Your styles... intriguing."
And just like that, he was gone—leaving behind the faint smell of ozone and the quiet impression that the ink had rearranged itself ever so slightly when no one was looking.
