when rome's in ruins, we are the lions
Vesper doesn’t speak right away. He just watches her—not just with his eyes, but deeper, the way only he can. She’s an open book in a language only he reads, all fluttering pages and smudged ink. Glitter thoughts dimmed by doubt. Pride sharpened by hurt. That streak of stubborn sparkle that keeps trying to shine through the fog. He sees the wobble before she speaks it. Feels the tension tremble behind her eyes like a held-back tide. There’s too much in her chest and nowhere safe to put it.
"Yeah," he murmurs, and there’s something softer there—not pity, not quite, just quiet understanding. "You don’t lie. Not even to yourself. That’s rarer than wings, Nova."
As her pout deepens and the words pile up inside her like kindling looking for flame, Vesper lifts one hand and calls his shadows to curl into a flat disc of dark beside their drinks. With a flick of his wrist, the centre bulges, a ring forming with a small glowing target in the middle. He slips his fingers behind it like a shield. "Go on," he drawls, one brow quirking. "Hit me with your best shot."
He lets her gather herself, lets the air between them still and settle. Then, quieter: "No one said you were dumb. And if anyone ever does..." His silver rings glint faintly as he turns his hand just slightly behind the target, eyes flashing star-sharp as he looks back at her. "I’ll make sure it’s the last thing they ever say. Or do." The smile that follows isn’t quite a smile—it’s something older, weightier. Not a threat. A promise. One only a brother like him can make.
"Yeah," he murmurs, and there’s something softer there—not pity, not quite, just quiet understanding. "You don’t lie. Not even to yourself. That’s rarer than wings, Nova."
As her pout deepens and the words pile up inside her like kindling looking for flame, Vesper lifts one hand and calls his shadows to curl into a flat disc of dark beside their drinks. With a flick of his wrist, the centre bulges, a ring forming with a small glowing target in the middle. He slips his fingers behind it like a shield. "Go on," he drawls, one brow quirking. "Hit me with your best shot."
He lets her gather herself, lets the air between them still and settle. Then, quieter: "No one said you were dumb. And if anyone ever does..." His silver rings glint faintly as he turns his hand just slightly behind the target, eyes flashing star-sharp as he looks back at her. "I’ll make sure it’s the last thing they ever say. Or do." The smile that follows isn’t quite a smile—it’s something older, weightier. Not a threat. A promise. One only a brother like him can make.
free of the colosseums
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
