Loathe the way they light candles in Rome
But love the sweet air of the votives
But love the sweet air of the votives
Koa counts the seconds that trod on like years, and still Kai doesn't wake. "C'mon c'mon c'mon," he mutters, a prayer and a command as he watches for something, anything, some sign that he hasn't been too late. But Kai's breaths stay shallow, his chest rising and falling as politely as the water in a kiddie pool. Koa doesn’t want polite. He wants his cousin with all his flaws and rough edges and easy laugh, with that youthful confidence and cocksure stupidity that endears him to everyone he meets. He wants a tidal wave.
It almost drowns him when it hits.
Not literally - Kai may be swinging with all his might, but he's still as weak as a newborn seal, the thrashing of his limbs more flail than fight. Relief surges through Koa like a flash flood; "Thank Safrin," he chokes, half laugh, half sob, pulling Kaisel to his feet.
He releases his cousin to lean on the fountain but remains hovering close, ready to grab him should he fall. "It's me," Koa confirms, leaning heavily on the marble as relief and exhaustion make his legs quake. He's laughing again, shaking his head, wet hair plastered above his eyes. "No, you're not dead." He reaches for Kai, squeezing his forearm in physical confirmation of this fact. "Though not for lack of fucking trying. What the fuck happened out there, Kai?" Who did his cousin royally piss off, to be left a semi-conscious basket of Kentucky Fried Kaisel?
It almost drowns him when it hits.
Not literally - Kai may be swinging with all his might, but he's still as weak as a newborn seal, the thrashing of his limbs more flail than fight. Relief surges through Koa like a flash flood; "Thank Safrin," he chokes, half laugh, half sob, pulling Kaisel to his feet.
He releases his cousin to lean on the fountain but remains hovering close, ready to grab him should he fall. "It's me," Koa confirms, leaning heavily on the marble as relief and exhaustion make his legs quake. He's laughing again, shaking his head, wet hair plastered above his eyes. "No, you're not dead." He reaches for Kai, squeezing his forearm in physical confirmation of this fact. "Though not for lack of fucking trying. What the fuck happened out there, Kai?" Who did his cousin royally piss off, to be left a semi-conscious basket of Kentucky Fried Kaisel?
Koa Carpenter
Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone
Engage with the pain as a motive
Engage with the pain as a motive
