Pierce
He’ll be long gone by the time she lets herself break, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t think of her even when he’s shed this skin and returned back to the nebula in all the black hole wildness that he’s always been crafted from. But he lingers, in her space, scent the salt of her tears and the smoke that clings to her from the fire that always seems to thrum under her skin like lightning.
Her trembling whisper is met with the slant of a small, sad smile. A nod. “I know.” Because Pierce would get swept up once again in conquest, in taking over other lands that deserved to be blessed by the void. He’s just happy to know that he can leave her here with a piece of him still, even if he doesn’t realize she’d kept the ring he’d found and given to her when they’d first met.
He leans in to press another kiss to her forehead, exhaling a slow sound as he reaches into a pocket, withdrawing a small and sleek box. Not another ring, not this time, but something else. A necklace, set in cool silver, a pendant that’s glittering sapphires and amethyst. Rugged, enough to make it look like her, but glittery enough to say that he’d thought about her even when they weren’t in each other’s immediate orbit.
“Here. A keepsake.” The necklace won’t do anything other than be the reminder, but the silver chains spill over his fingers as he holds it up for her to see, hoping she might let him put it on her before he has to leave. "To remind you of us." And if she's keen -- which he knows she is -- she'll find the matching one glittering against his neck.
Her trembling whisper is met with the slant of a small, sad smile. A nod. “I know.” Because Pierce would get swept up once again in conquest, in taking over other lands that deserved to be blessed by the void. He’s just happy to know that he can leave her here with a piece of him still, even if he doesn’t realize she’d kept the ring he’d found and given to her when they’d first met.
He leans in to press another kiss to her forehead, exhaling a slow sound as he reaches into a pocket, withdrawing a small and sleek box. Not another ring, not this time, but something else. A necklace, set in cool silver, a pendant that’s glittering sapphires and amethyst. Rugged, enough to make it look like her, but glittery enough to say that he’d thought about her even when they weren’t in each other’s immediate orbit.
“Here. A keepsake.” The necklace won’t do anything other than be the reminder, but the silver chains spill over his fingers as he holds it up for her to see, hoping she might let him put it on her before he has to leave. "To remind you of us." And if she's keen -- which he knows she is -- she'll find the matching one glittering against his neck.
