Heart is buried six feet in the ground, gonna need a shovel now
Sinking into the folds of him allows her to fully give up every last shred of composure she'd been valiantly clinging to. She'd already ugly cried plenty on her own before even leaving the Grounds, but she'd tried to doctor it up by the time she'd gotten back to the port and traveled here, and the containment of it all almost made it a more persistent pressure welling inside her, too fresh still for such simple bottling. She'd almost made it inside the room before letting go again, but she's well past the point of no return the moment she clutches onto him and the rest is just a teary blur as he helps her retreat into the privacy of the space.
His warmth and reassurances are an immediate balm to the frostbite she's been carrying with her from all of Vesper's ice. It thaws slowly, her full-body heaves of despair gradually quieting into just the snotty, stuffy breathing of someone who is empty and stunned at the removal of so much that had been previously carried. Eventually, she leans back off of him and into the couch more, groaning against the dull throb in her head as she palms away the last of the current bout of tears. There's more to come, surely, but it'll lessen each time and cure into something that's brittle at some angles and hard at others, all of it sharp. There will be time to forge it into anger, but for now, this day is meant for breaking. She means to do it thoroughly, until she has ground every fragment that remains of her heart into dust so that the next time some coy smile tugs at her she'll really have nothing left to offer them. Her fault for cradling what she had left, it gave Vesper all the nooks and crannies he needed to anchor himself in.
Eyes that feel too heavy, movements slow, slide around the room with the most surface-level curiosity. The scene is a pleasant one, much better than the storm she would have turned the room into, grief a gravitational thing that wants to yank every bit of happiness and light down into the same dark depths until everything is damp and miserable with it. She goes to speak, to finally answer him, but it feels like a bubble's caught in her throat. She sighs, a flimsy show of frustration before her eye catches on the glass of water and she drinks it down in a series of gulps, thoroughly dehydrated at this point.
"Just, stay," she asks him once the glass is empty and her voice works again. Her gaze flits towards him, an apologetic smile offered. "I think I need the company right now. I'll have plenty of time to be alone later." She didn't even mean to inflict this one, but that thought and the sharp realization of it hits her square in the chest and she exhales with a fresh spring of tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. "All the time in the world to be alone. Not worth much more than a night here and there."
It's the best reason she could come up with, for why after a year of edging in closer to one another, dancing around moments that glimmered with potential, she wasn't even granted the decency of an honest farewell. He'd accused her of using him, but he only seemed bothered the time he didn't get off, and the moment he saw her kiss someone else she'd apparently become too ruined for him to ever consider touching again. He's asked for her time, but looks like it'd all run out now that he got everything he needed. Nothing worthwhile either, from what she can see, not if he could walk away singing like a bird.
She tilts her head back into the couch, going limp into it. "You ever consider asking the gods to take your heart away?"
His warmth and reassurances are an immediate balm to the frostbite she's been carrying with her from all of Vesper's ice. It thaws slowly, her full-body heaves of despair gradually quieting into just the snotty, stuffy breathing of someone who is empty and stunned at the removal of so much that had been previously carried. Eventually, she leans back off of him and into the couch more, groaning against the dull throb in her head as she palms away the last of the current bout of tears. There's more to come, surely, but it'll lessen each time and cure into something that's brittle at some angles and hard at others, all of it sharp. There will be time to forge it into anger, but for now, this day is meant for breaking. She means to do it thoroughly, until she has ground every fragment that remains of her heart into dust so that the next time some coy smile tugs at her she'll really have nothing left to offer them. Her fault for cradling what she had left, it gave Vesper all the nooks and crannies he needed to anchor himself in.
Eyes that feel too heavy, movements slow, slide around the room with the most surface-level curiosity. The scene is a pleasant one, much better than the storm she would have turned the room into, grief a gravitational thing that wants to yank every bit of happiness and light down into the same dark depths until everything is damp and miserable with it. She goes to speak, to finally answer him, but it feels like a bubble's caught in her throat. She sighs, a flimsy show of frustration before her eye catches on the glass of water and she drinks it down in a series of gulps, thoroughly dehydrated at this point.
"Just, stay," she asks him once the glass is empty and her voice works again. Her gaze flits towards him, an apologetic smile offered. "I think I need the company right now. I'll have plenty of time to be alone later." She didn't even mean to inflict this one, but that thought and the sharp realization of it hits her square in the chest and she exhales with a fresh spring of tears sparkling at the corners of her eyes. "All the time in the world to be alone. Not worth much more than a night here and there."
It's the best reason she could come up with, for why after a year of edging in closer to one another, dancing around moments that glimmered with potential, she wasn't even granted the decency of an honest farewell. He'd accused her of using him, but he only seemed bothered the time he didn't get off, and the moment he saw her kiss someone else she'd apparently become too ruined for him to ever consider touching again. He's asked for her time, but looks like it'd all run out now that he got everything he needed. Nothing worthwhile either, from what she can see, not if he could walk away singing like a bird.
She tilts her head back into the couch, going limp into it. "You ever consider asking the gods to take your heart away?"
Colt
Maybe one day I'll get back the rhythm in my chest
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
