DAMIEN
I know it's been a long time coming
I'm angry and I know that's weak
I'm angry and I know that's weak
Damien let the words turn over in his head, slow as grinding stones. Coming from anyone else, he might have brushed them off. But Deimos wasn’t just anyone—he’d carried Halo on his back, seen enough ruin and rebuilding to make his voice feel like something carved out of bedrock. If the Warden thought a man like him had a place, then maybe there was something worth hearing in that.
He gave a short huff, almost a laugh, though it had no humor in it. “No, no one’s forcing me. You’re right about that.” His shoulders lifted, furs shifting with the motion, then settled heavy again. “But being Accepted… it doesn’t feel like nothing, either. It’s stitched into me same as blood and bone. Like a mark you can’t wash out. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? Some part of me’s theirs, whether I ever kneel or not. Makes it harder to ignore.”
For a moment he watched his boots press into the crust of snow, then lifted his eyes again, squinting against the white glare. “Suppose I’m just venting. Haven’t said much of this to anyone else. Feels easier to keep it rattling around in my own skull.” He gave Deimos a sidelong glance, faintly wry.
His jaw tightened, then eased, like he’d come to some half-made peace with admitting it aloud. “I don’t know if I’ll ever go to them. But I appreciate you entertaining my questions, Warden. Makes it all sit a little different, hearing it from you.”
He gave a short huff, almost a laugh, though it had no humor in it. “No, no one’s forcing me. You’re right about that.” His shoulders lifted, furs shifting with the motion, then settled heavy again. “But being Accepted… it doesn’t feel like nothing, either. It’s stitched into me same as blood and bone. Like a mark you can’t wash out. That has to mean something, doesn’t it? Some part of me’s theirs, whether I ever kneel or not. Makes it harder to ignore.”
For a moment he watched his boots press into the crust of snow, then lifted his eyes again, squinting against the white glare. “Suppose I’m just venting. Haven’t said much of this to anyone else. Feels easier to keep it rattling around in my own skull.” He gave Deimos a sidelong glance, faintly wry.
His jaw tightened, then eased, like he’d come to some half-made peace with admitting it aloud. “I don’t know if I’ll ever go to them. But I appreciate you entertaining my questions, Warden. Makes it all sit a little different, hearing it from you.”
And I'm longing out that open window
For whatever it is I seek
For whatever it is I seek
