Hotaru
My ghost was lost to the grownup gallows
It’s a miracle either of them made it here, so different from the lands and lives they started from. Hotaru may still struggle with the feeling of needing power and influence to be the things that define her and her life, but at least she has the luxury of struggling. She never could have dreamed of a life so different from the one she’d known before Caido. Before Sunjata. Her love spills into the river of his own until she can’t tell up from down with her eyes closed, can’t tell whose love it is she’s feeling but for the slight difference in shape and sense. She would always rather he feel this from here instead of her darker moments - but she also knows he will never stop asking to bear them, just as she does.
His clear blue eyes and the surety of his expression only strengthens the pour of her love through the bond. How could she ever doubt him when he holds her like this? When she can feel how much he loves her like it’s sunlight moving through every atom of her body?
“Since when were you the wise one? I thought being good with words was my job,” she chides playfully, smile finally emerging in tentative shapes. His matching smile does her in immediately, and she rises on her toes to cup one hand over his cheek in order to draw him the rest of the way down to kiss him. Slow, lingering. Like he is the breath of air she needs to finish clearing her head and only drawing it straight from his lungs will suffice.
When her heels touch sand again she is reminded of where they stand in the river for all of a moment. There are no regrets for killing the void stars in swathes, but she spares a moment to be glad she’d hurt nothing else before he’d found her. “I’m not sure where to start, but maybe I’ll figure it out if I see her alone.” When she’s not at threat of dying, or being infected, or some other horror that draws people inward like magnets to her daughter’s side. “Thank you, hart koning.” Her hand falls from his cheek to lay over his chest, directly over his heart. Such is what he is to her. Appreciation colors the outpouring of love from her side of the bond, and when she smiles a second time up at him, it’s nearly up to par with her normal expression of happiness.
His clear blue eyes and the surety of his expression only strengthens the pour of her love through the bond. How could she ever doubt him when he holds her like this? When she can feel how much he loves her like it’s sunlight moving through every atom of her body?
“Since when were you the wise one? I thought being good with words was my job,” she chides playfully, smile finally emerging in tentative shapes. His matching smile does her in immediately, and she rises on her toes to cup one hand over his cheek in order to draw him the rest of the way down to kiss him. Slow, lingering. Like he is the breath of air she needs to finish clearing her head and only drawing it straight from his lungs will suffice.
When her heels touch sand again she is reminded of where they stand in the river for all of a moment. There are no regrets for killing the void stars in swathes, but she spares a moment to be glad she’d hurt nothing else before he’d found her. “I’m not sure where to start, but maybe I’ll figure it out if I see her alone.” When she’s not at threat of dying, or being infected, or some other horror that draws people inward like magnets to her daughter’s side. “Thank you, hart koning.” Her hand falls from his cheek to lay over his chest, directly over his heart. Such is what he is to her. Appreciation colors the outpouring of love from her side of the bond, and when she smiles a second time up at him, it’s nearly up to par with her normal expression of happiness.
So I find my spirit in the bottle
