it's fine to fake it 'till you make it
The wind stills; not abruptly, not unnaturally, only with the soft reverence of the sea drawing a quiet breath. The hush that follows is gentle and golden, like the pause in a lullaby. Then, behind Hadama, the air shifts. There is no sound of arrival. Only the feeling—like warmth against the back of his neck, like the scent of night-blooming flowers carried across still water. And then hands, light and cool as moonlight, press softly against his shoulders.
"Well done, Hadama." Her voice comes like starlight on the tide—low and melodic, both intimate and unshakably divine. She doesn’t stand on tiptoe to reach him; space bends subtly around her form, the moment stretched just enough that she can anchor her touch to his broad shoulders without strain. The gesture is warm, grounding, quiet in its strength.
She stays like that a breath longer than needed, then she moves to his side, turning her gaze with him toward the eastern moonrise, her expression alight with pride and curiosity alike. "Imprisoning her. Curing her." Her smile is thoughtful. "Not what I expected."
Fingers laced with quiet magic toy with a strand of his hair, more habit than vanity. "When I told Ronin that roses could be used against the Family," she muses, "even I didn’t foresee Dorian reaching so far just to reclaim her." Her eyes glitter, less with malice than with something older. Wiser. "Perhaps even monsters have things they love enough to bleed for."
She leans slightly closer, starlight catching in her lashes. "But be cautious, my Tidebreaker. You are wise to ask for allies to be near during the exchange."
"Well done, Hadama." Her voice comes like starlight on the tide—low and melodic, both intimate and unshakably divine. She doesn’t stand on tiptoe to reach him; space bends subtly around her form, the moment stretched just enough that she can anchor her touch to his broad shoulders without strain. The gesture is warm, grounding, quiet in its strength.
She stays like that a breath longer than needed, then she moves to his side, turning her gaze with him toward the eastern moonrise, her expression alight with pride and curiosity alike. "Imprisoning her. Curing her." Her smile is thoughtful. "Not what I expected."
Fingers laced with quiet magic toy with a strand of his hair, more habit than vanity. "When I told Ronin that roses could be used against the Family," she muses, "even I didn’t foresee Dorian reaching so far just to reclaim her." Her eyes glitter, less with malice than with something older. Wiser. "Perhaps even monsters have things they love enough to bleed for."
She leans slightly closer, starlight catching in her lashes. "But be cautious, my Tidebreaker. You are wise to ask for allies to be near during the exchange."
'till you do. 'till it's true.
