Hotaru
I miss the days when stars were saintly
They sang to me in ways innately
They sang to me in ways innately
Surely she has been breathing while she waited for him, frozen and entombed in her own skin. She knows, because she has resented every one. But when he runs to her, when his hands touch her shoulders, when his eyes find hers - she inhales, and it’s different. A crack in the ice that surrounds her, light pouring through a crevice after endless hours clawing at darkened rock.
She doesn’t so much as blink but sudden heat on her cheeks makes her realize she’s crying all at once. “Noah,” she repeats aloud this time, voice cracking on each syllable from a throat ruined from crying and screaming and begging into nothingness. His hands are warm and heavy where she is cold and fragile. A vessel as thin as winter leaves that are left hollow between each vein.
Hotaru falls forward into him, a similar height now with how he kneels before her. She cries into his neck; agonized, hiccuping, heaving. Her hands clutch at his shirt as if terrified he’ll pull away and take the light he’s brought back with him. His scent in her nose when pressed this close finally drowns out Sunjata’s, which has haunted her cruelly and ubiquitously from every corner of the house. A house she can’t even call theirs anymore. It’s more than just comforting in its familiar notes, it’s a shield that envelopes her on all sides, allowing her to hide away for a moment.
It comes spilling out in waves on her torn vocals. Flying over the Draig, growing tired, stopping on a barren outcrop to rest, only to scare Andraste who had gone for her throat at the same time as Ru had. Waking in her verdant pod, Andraste on her chest, Frey’s smiling face beyond. Two seasons lost in the blink of an eye. The harder part is explaining Sunjata. She doubles back on her words repeatedly, giving allowances whenever her tone creeps towards frustration or blame, silencing and nullifying her own feelings because they don’t matter, his do.
“He wouldn’t tell me how to fix it, what to do,” she finally cries, hands aching from where she still clings fervently to him. “So I can’t. So it - it means -” Gods she can’t bear to say it despite how it’s been all she can think about while waiting for the courier to reach Noah. Hotaru had already been gone. She’d left a void in Sunjata’s life. But he has asked her not to fill it again, leaving her dangling. Awaiting a drop she can’t help but assume will come if she can’t step forward off the ledge without the Flood’s permission.
Pulling back, face red and inflamed, eyes glassy and dark, the Valkyrie stares into Noah’s eyes as if they might somehow miraculously hold the answer. “I missed my son being brought back. I bled out on that cliffside. And now I’m bonded to what caused it, when after Atlas I -” but does it even matter? She hasn’t had a chance to process any of that because - “And now I’m losing him. I’m losing him but I’m right here.” Her face crumples and she cries, voice small and brittle and childlike. “I’m right here, Noah. I’m here.” But he’s not.
She doesn’t so much as blink but sudden heat on her cheeks makes her realize she’s crying all at once. “Noah,” she repeats aloud this time, voice cracking on each syllable from a throat ruined from crying and screaming and begging into nothingness. His hands are warm and heavy where she is cold and fragile. A vessel as thin as winter leaves that are left hollow between each vein.
Hotaru falls forward into him, a similar height now with how he kneels before her. She cries into his neck; agonized, hiccuping, heaving. Her hands clutch at his shirt as if terrified he’ll pull away and take the light he’s brought back with him. His scent in her nose when pressed this close finally drowns out Sunjata’s, which has haunted her cruelly and ubiquitously from every corner of the house. A house she can’t even call theirs anymore. It’s more than just comforting in its familiar notes, it’s a shield that envelopes her on all sides, allowing her to hide away for a moment.
It comes spilling out in waves on her torn vocals. Flying over the Draig, growing tired, stopping on a barren outcrop to rest, only to scare Andraste who had gone for her throat at the same time as Ru had. Waking in her verdant pod, Andraste on her chest, Frey’s smiling face beyond. Two seasons lost in the blink of an eye. The harder part is explaining Sunjata. She doubles back on her words repeatedly, giving allowances whenever her tone creeps towards frustration or blame, silencing and nullifying her own feelings because they don’t matter, his do.
“He wouldn’t tell me how to fix it, what to do,” she finally cries, hands aching from where she still clings fervently to him. “So I can’t. So it - it means -” Gods she can’t bear to say it despite how it’s been all she can think about while waiting for the courier to reach Noah. Hotaru had already been gone. She’d left a void in Sunjata’s life. But he has asked her not to fill it again, leaving her dangling. Awaiting a drop she can’t help but assume will come if she can’t step forward off the ledge without the Flood’s permission.
Pulling back, face red and inflamed, eyes glassy and dark, the Valkyrie stares into Noah’s eyes as if they might somehow miraculously hold the answer. “I missed my son being brought back. I bled out on that cliffside. And now I’m bonded to what caused it, when after Atlas I -” but does it even matter? She hasn’t had a chance to process any of that because - “And now I’m losing him. I’m losing him but I’m right here.” Her face crumples and she cries, voice small and brittle and childlike. “I’m right here, Noah. I’m here.” But he’s not.
But my ghost was lost to the grownup gallows
So I find my spirit in the bottle
So I find my spirit in the bottle
