just because the fog is there
It hits him soft and sharp at the same time—that flicker of thought as she sees him not just as Vesper, but as the demigod he’s always been. Not just Safrin’s son, but something forged beneath all those expectations he never asked for. Something too heavy to name most days. The kind of gaze she gives him now isn’t wary, or worshipful, or even pitying. It’s steady, and it’s that steadiness that breaks something open.
He exhales sharply, a sound pulled straight from his chest, and steps in before he can second-guess it. One hand lifts, the heel of it warm as it finds the curve of her lower back, fingers fanning out in a slow, starburst spread. Not a cage—never that—but an anchor, a draw, a gravity of his own, drawing her flush against him. And when he kisses her, it’s not gentle, not idle. It’s firm and real and searching, like he might be able to trade the starlight weight on his shoulders for the taste of her mouth instead. It’s a kiss meant to undo him. Maybe her too.
When he pulls back, there’s a flicker of surprise in the soft blink of his blue eyes, as though his body got ahead of his careful mind. But then something eases in him, something steady and calm, and his mouth curves just enough to bring the moment back into orbit. "Maybe you could help with that," he murmurs, voice low and rough at the edges, of his hedging too close to too good.
The dogs burst into noise and chaos, but he doesn’t spare them a glance—his eyes stay fixed on her, on the way she moves and the glow she seems to gather even in the dark. His grin returns, this time sharper, lazier, lips twitching with wicked intent. "If I remember right," he drawls, "I’m pretty good at holdin’ onto things that don’t like to hold still." With that, he scoops up both plates and follows her inside, the warm air of the home curling around him like it knows where he belongs. He sets the dinner down with careful precision while she slides the brownies into the oven, and without needing to be asked, begins to dish up their portions—steak sliced clean, vegetables plated with the quiet ease of someone who takes pride in presentation, even now.
He doesn’t say anything yet. Just watches her for a moment, the corner of his mouth still pulled in a smile that hasn’t fully decided whether it’s dangerous or tender. Maybe both.
He exhales sharply, a sound pulled straight from his chest, and steps in before he can second-guess it. One hand lifts, the heel of it warm as it finds the curve of her lower back, fingers fanning out in a slow, starburst spread. Not a cage—never that—but an anchor, a draw, a gravity of his own, drawing her flush against him. And when he kisses her, it’s not gentle, not idle. It’s firm and real and searching, like he might be able to trade the starlight weight on his shoulders for the taste of her mouth instead. It’s a kiss meant to undo him. Maybe her too.
When he pulls back, there’s a flicker of surprise in the soft blink of his blue eyes, as though his body got ahead of his careful mind. But then something eases in him, something steady and calm, and his mouth curves just enough to bring the moment back into orbit. "Maybe you could help with that," he murmurs, voice low and rough at the edges, of his hedging too close to too good.
The dogs burst into noise and chaos, but he doesn’t spare them a glance—his eyes stay fixed on her, on the way she moves and the glow she seems to gather even in the dark. His grin returns, this time sharper, lazier, lips twitching with wicked intent. "If I remember right," he drawls, "I’m pretty good at holdin’ onto things that don’t like to hold still." With that, he scoops up both plates and follows her inside, the warm air of the home curling around him like it knows where he belongs. He sets the dinner down with careful precision while she slides the brownies into the oven, and without needing to be asked, begins to dish up their portions—steak sliced clean, vegetables plated with the quiet ease of someone who takes pride in presentation, even now.
He doesn’t say anything yet. Just watches her for a moment, the corner of his mouth still pulled in a smile that hasn’t fully decided whether it’s dangerous or tender. Maybe both.
don't mean nothing's behind it
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
