Deimos
Whatever here that's left of me
Is yours just as it was
Off to the side, waiting in his perpetual patience, Deimos did his best to remain composed as well. The apprehension curled and contorted in waves, but he sunk it inward, as if to soften the long, slow breaths unfurling from his lungs. Done up in his own suit to match the hues and colors of the arranged nuptials, his eyes ran up and down the Temple interior more than once; studying, analyzing, nodding his head to others he recognized and knew, before skittering off into the shadows. Long limbs would often settle into a back-and-forth pace, and then pausing to ascertain the situation, listening all the while, thoughts contemplating a thousand different things.Is yours just as it was
Kiada marrying - which had taken him a lengthy time to digest, but accept nonetheless – and Fox, who seemed kind and genuine and good – someone the Harpy needed after cycles and denizens of resurrection. What she had managed to snag, claim, and grab hold for herself (something he couldn't help but be pride of her for). New lives and futures forged out of unions. Rexanna, who would have loved to see and be a part of the festivities, perhaps looking on somewhere from Mort’s realm. He’d like to think she mingled amidst the ashes and petals, with easygoing smiles and idle chatter.
When she did finally emerge, he greeted her with a warm, kind smile, extending his arm outwards immediately for her to take. “Perfect,” he whispered in response, nose wrinkling in juvenile gestures; perhaps to give both of them some familiarity amidst the new foundations. Restlessly, he adjusted one of the portions of her bouquet, then took another long inhale. “Are you ready?”
I'm set alight
And I blink inside your blinding light
And I blink inside your blinding light
