DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
He’d stood in his office for quite some time, staring at the hearth, waiting for the multitudes to calm down in the wake of the meeting. Deep breaths in, out, exhale, inhale, long plumes that hadn’t done him much good. Ordinarily, his long strides would’ve carried him to Evie and Erebos and Amhran, but they were safely ensconced at home, working as well, and the great lurch in his ribcage told him not to disturb them. Not now.
So it was an inevitable thing, to begin taking a turn of patrol along the Citadel, to foster long strides across the place he’d long since promised to protect and shield, swallowing down the bile clustering over his throat. The walk chiseled and bristled at him with every lull and quell of the cold, and he wished it might’ve bit harder so that the guilt didn’t chisel so firmly into his chest and the threats didn’t yield and stick themselves into his mind.
People might’ve said something to him, but his mind was so addled with distraction that responses would’ve been nods at best. He kept onward, stifled and silent, looking for dangers and perils in every stone and flake, until he’d somehow managed to wander near the shrine.
Noah’s presence there made his brows furrow, but only for a moment, his gaze segmenting elsewhere, drifting across the marketplace, the cobblestones, the pathways lined with snow, the trepidation lining his chest. Noah, he rumbled, not wanting to seek him out and not having many other options. Then he just kept going, precise, concise, head down, stifling every semblance of panic beginning to coerce again. I just had a visit from the Head of the Family.
So it was an inevitable thing, to begin taking a turn of patrol along the Citadel, to foster long strides across the place he’d long since promised to protect and shield, swallowing down the bile clustering over his throat. The walk chiseled and bristled at him with every lull and quell of the cold, and he wished it might’ve bit harder so that the guilt didn’t chisel so firmly into his chest and the threats didn’t yield and stick themselves into his mind.
People might’ve said something to him, but his mind was so addled with distraction that responses would’ve been nods at best. He kept onward, stifled and silent, looking for dangers and perils in every stone and flake, until he’d somehow managed to wander near the shrine.
Noah’s presence there made his brows furrow, but only for a moment, his gaze segmenting elsewhere, drifting across the marketplace, the cobblestones, the pathways lined with snow, the trepidation lining his chest. Noah, he rumbled, not wanting to seek him out and not having many other options. Then he just kept going, precise, concise, head down, stifling every semblance of panic beginning to coerce again. I just had a visit from the Head of the Family.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
