doves and ravens fly the same
Vesper accepts the peppermint sticks like they weigh more than they should. His brows tick up just slightly at the neat, boot-warmed parcel, tucked away like a secret meant only for him. It’s not the sprigs that gives him pause—it’s everything curled behind the gesture. Every sharp-edged feeling Colt keeps trying to bury under dry quips and false exits, everything she won’t say but keeps screaming anyway. The way she'd carried it around, not knowing when she'd see him next, but having it at the ready just the same.
He hears it all. The softness trying not to bloom, the wind carving canyons.
Colt’s mind, once sun-wild and rattling with laughter, now trails barbed wire through every valley he used to wander. Once, he would’ve said it reminded him of the desert—untamed and stubborn and painfully bright—but now it’s more like a locked paddock: sharp edges, warning signs, a single peppermint smuggled beneath the fence.
He slides the bundle beneath one arm like a pressed letter he’ll never open, and steps forward without ceremony. His fingers cradle her jaw like she’s made of glass and gunpowder—fragile, but only in the ways that matter. He tilts her face up to his like it’s instinct, like gravity's pulled them into this moment, and when he kisses her, it’s not a question.
There’s no fire in it, no urgency, and he'll kiss her slow and deep as long as she'll allow. It's the kind of kiss that tastes like red dust and old promises, like peppermint and second chances he’s already forfeiting. A goodbye pressed into skin and memory. If she knees or slaps him for it, so be it. He figures that’ll be easier for her to stomach anyway; a story she can tell to Thorn over drinks. And then the arrogant bastard had the nerve to kiss me, and so on.
"You don’t owe me nothin'," he murmurs, voice hoarse in the way that only truth can manage. "Not for any of it." His hands fall, dragging the shape of her face down to his sides, leaving her untouched. His shadows curl close, more for comfort than protection, and he doesn’t bother hiding the tired exhale that slips through his teeth.
He turns then—not sharply, not dramatically, just the quiet pivot of a man who knows when the door’s been locked behind him. Given who and what he is, Vesper isn't the sort to ever have to ask twice or be told to go more than once.
He hears it all. The softness trying not to bloom, the wind carving canyons.
Colt’s mind, once sun-wild and rattling with laughter, now trails barbed wire through every valley he used to wander. Once, he would’ve said it reminded him of the desert—untamed and stubborn and painfully bright—but now it’s more like a locked paddock: sharp edges, warning signs, a single peppermint smuggled beneath the fence.
He slides the bundle beneath one arm like a pressed letter he’ll never open, and steps forward without ceremony. His fingers cradle her jaw like she’s made of glass and gunpowder—fragile, but only in the ways that matter. He tilts her face up to his like it’s instinct, like gravity's pulled them into this moment, and when he kisses her, it’s not a question.
There’s no fire in it, no urgency, and he'll kiss her slow and deep as long as she'll allow. It's the kind of kiss that tastes like red dust and old promises, like peppermint and second chances he’s already forfeiting. A goodbye pressed into skin and memory. If she knees or slaps him for it, so be it. He figures that’ll be easier for her to stomach anyway; a story she can tell to Thorn over drinks. And then the arrogant bastard had the nerve to kiss me, and so on.
"You don’t owe me nothin'," he murmurs, voice hoarse in the way that only truth can manage. "Not for any of it." His hands fall, dragging the shape of her face down to his sides, leaving her untouched. His shadows curl close, more for comfort than protection, and he doesn’t bother hiding the tired exhale that slips through his teeth.
He turns then—not sharply, not dramatically, just the quiet pivot of a man who knows when the door’s been locked behind him. Given who and what he is, Vesper isn't the sort to ever have to ask twice or be told to go more than once.
VESPER
☆ 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.
