Need a hundred lifetimes kinda love
The full impact of his words isn’t something he fully realizes at first. Not with his gaze decidedly off Flora most of the time, wandering around the mountainous curves of whipped cream or off into darkening horizons, doing his best to struggle through his own feelings without plopping them all down into a moment that deserves so much better than his silly fears of inadequacy. It’s something he’s always had a bit of a battle with, but he can usually lacquer over it with the distracting antics of a jester or a proud strut that hides the uncertainty beneath peacock feathers. It’s easy to slip out of usual barriers with her though, so it rears up in unwelcome moments.
Especially with her, for her, he wants to be better—the best. She deserves nothing less, and he hates the thought of giving her something inferior. He doesn’t want to force her down to his level, repeating accomplishments just because he lacks them. He wants to rise up to where she sits, accomplished and capable.
Her affections have proven to be more of a double-edged sword than he ever could have guessed. While simultaneously she’s reassured him, either in voice, action, or purely over time—sometimes on purpose, sometimes just by being—it’s also made the desire to never lose that something that tightens around his fears until they’re sharp with worry. Usually, he can file them down with some sense, a spar, or a plan to dote on her until she’s shining bright enough to clear out any lingering shadows that had tried to take the shape of monsters. Occasionally, the points poke through and make their way out, posing a needle for either of them to get pricked by.
It’s the abrupt and unusual chirp from Spice that draws his attention back to the direct surroundings, distant gaze angling down at the white dragon. Her meaningful bump comes on the heels of her cry, and he watches her departure with no hidden measure of curiosity. Sorting out the meaning still as he makes idle comments, he gradually becomes aware that Flora isn’t responding to them as she normally would, which is to say at all.
Though she’s uncurled more from just breaths earlier, the dimming to her is apparent, and the clever dragon’s meaning finally settles with a quiet exhale of understanding and regret. Shifting in closer to her, he slides one hand around her back, bare hand curling into one of her coat pockets for safekeeping. Pressing his chest against her back, his chin settles on her shoulder, cocoa hand fitting in near hers. It’s a quiet, careful winding around her space and heat, the sort of unspoken trade of reassurance, offering it as much as asking for it. Whenever words or feelings have gotten too big, it’s always been easy to come back to certainty in her embrace, even if it’s nothing but the faintest point of contact.
[sayt]”Mmm,” he considers with a low hum, gaze flicking past her curls to the neon green snake emerging in the dusky fields of sky. ”A snow rainbow seems very fitting,” he admits, the smallest hint of a smile in his words as his lips curl up with the branding he’s certain hadn’t existed before now. ”Wouldn’t that make it a snowbow?” There’s also no sun to scatter the lights they’re seeing, but maybe the snow charged up all day and is bouncing it back? Maybe it’s better not to entirely understand it, the way a magician’s tricks become a disappointment once you catch onto the slight of hand or the shuffle behind the curtain. Kaisel is firmly of the belief of some ignorance being worth the magic it provides, because the world can always use a bit more sparkle and fairydust to it.
”And what of the starwhales, then?” he coaxes her answer for his other question. ”Maybe they just like the snowbows too,” he suggests, realizing with a slight widening of his eyes as the aurora continues to unfurl into full splendor that there is some value to the frost if it can deliver carefully created moments like this.
Especially with her, for her, he wants to be better—the best. She deserves nothing less, and he hates the thought of giving her something inferior. He doesn’t want to force her down to his level, repeating accomplishments just because he lacks them. He wants to rise up to where she sits, accomplished and capable.
Her affections have proven to be more of a double-edged sword than he ever could have guessed. While simultaneously she’s reassured him, either in voice, action, or purely over time—sometimes on purpose, sometimes just by being—it’s also made the desire to never lose that something that tightens around his fears until they’re sharp with worry. Usually, he can file them down with some sense, a spar, or a plan to dote on her until she’s shining bright enough to clear out any lingering shadows that had tried to take the shape of monsters. Occasionally, the points poke through and make their way out, posing a needle for either of them to get pricked by.
It’s the abrupt and unusual chirp from Spice that draws his attention back to the direct surroundings, distant gaze angling down at the white dragon. Her meaningful bump comes on the heels of her cry, and he watches her departure with no hidden measure of curiosity. Sorting out the meaning still as he makes idle comments, he gradually becomes aware that Flora isn’t responding to them as she normally would, which is to say at all.
Though she’s uncurled more from just breaths earlier, the dimming to her is apparent, and the clever dragon’s meaning finally settles with a quiet exhale of understanding and regret. Shifting in closer to her, he slides one hand around her back, bare hand curling into one of her coat pockets for safekeeping. Pressing his chest against her back, his chin settles on her shoulder, cocoa hand fitting in near hers. It’s a quiet, careful winding around her space and heat, the sort of unspoken trade of reassurance, offering it as much as asking for it. Whenever words or feelings have gotten too big, it’s always been easy to come back to certainty in her embrace, even if it’s nothing but the faintest point of contact.
[sayt]”Mmm,” he considers with a low hum, gaze flicking past her curls to the neon green snake emerging in the dusky fields of sky. ”A snow rainbow seems very fitting,” he admits, the smallest hint of a smile in his words as his lips curl up with the branding he’s certain hadn’t existed before now. ”Wouldn’t that make it a snowbow?” There’s also no sun to scatter the lights they’re seeing, but maybe the snow charged up all day and is bouncing it back? Maybe it’s better not to entirely understand it, the way a magician’s tricks become a disappointment once you catch onto the slight of hand or the shuffle behind the curtain. Kaisel is firmly of the belief of some ignorance being worth the magic it provides, because the world can always use a bit more sparkle and fairydust to it.
”And what of the starwhales, then?” he coaxes her answer for his other question. ”Maybe they just like the snowbows too,” he suggests, realizing with a slight widening of his eyes as the aurora continues to unfurl into full splendor that there is some value to the frost if it can deliver carefully created moments like this.
Kaisel
I could say forever, but forever ain't long enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
