Tell the tales of the trail of dead
Lovers learned from slower hands
Lovers learned from slower hands
Liam looked from the rose to Maea and back again, clearly torn by indecision. It felt wrong, somehow, to pick something so beautiful, so sacred - and yet it could help so many people. The petals were soft beneath his touch, and he withdrew his hand before he could hurt it.
Maea spoke of selfishness, but when she explained what she would do with the rose, that wasn't at all what he heard. Sure, her reasoning might not be entirely altruistic, but she wanted to mend fences - and that was a good enough motive for him. Still, perhaps she'd be happier if it came from him. "Deimos is a good man," he said of Halo's Warden. "I could take it to him. He could make use of it, I bet. More than I could, anyway." He glanced up at Maea. "And then you won't have to go to the tundra." Where it was cold, and she was likely to freeze.
Maea spoke of selfishness, but when she explained what she would do with the rose, that wasn't at all what he heard. Sure, her reasoning might not be entirely altruistic, but she wanted to mend fences - and that was a good enough motive for him. Still, perhaps she'd be happier if it came from him. "Deimos is a good man," he said of Halo's Warden. "I could take it to him. He could make use of it, I bet. More than I could, anyway." He glanced up at Maea. "And then you won't have to go to the tundra." Where it was cold, and she was likely to freeze.
Losing self in myself
And my demons make demands
And my demons make demands
Liam
