DEIMOS
Her hands were within his hair before he could respond; and he lowered his down to rest elsewhere; the soft lull of her calves nearby, under the surface. He leaned into her touch immediately, as one might a flame, snorting in response. “I suppose,” was a rough, but joking rumble as he pressed his brow into hers, a gentle sigh unfurling. Burdens made better – maybe – just by being around those who didn’t place further ones upon him – safe, quiet, tranquil sanctuaries nestled in their own home; away and away and away from so many other spinning things.
Purposefully angling his breath so it maneuvered her hair, his brows knitted together at her response – already peering probably far too into it. He understood the nature of restlessness; it was in his bones each and every day – that incessant and insatiable need to act upon something - deeply engrained from childhood onward. But Deimos also wouldn’t presume hers to be the same as his own, so instead of already driving onward into possibilities and parameters, he’d learned to simply ask. His mouth moved to her nose, a light kiss while she either opted to unpack her thoughts or leave them aside. “In what way?”
Purposefully angling his breath so it maneuvered her hair, his brows knitted together at her response – already peering probably far too into it. He understood the nature of restlessness; it was in his bones each and every day – that incessant and insatiable need to act upon something - deeply engrained from childhood onward. But Deimos also wouldn’t presume hers to be the same as his own, so instead of already driving onward into possibilities and parameters, he’d learned to simply ask. His mouth moved to her nose, a light kiss while she either opted to unpack her thoughts or leave them aside. “In what way?”
who we were before bones, before dirt, before even light
we have always been deep, restless souls
we have always been deep, restless souls
