Hotaru
I miss the days when stars were saintly
They sang to me in ways innately
They sang to me in ways innately
His assurance is another layer of stone beneath her feet even as doubt whispers in her ears where no earthborn stability can hope to reach. A long-held belief of inherent flaw, ruination, and inadequacy in her interpersonal life. She could scale mountains and topple rulers, bear a crown or a sword with equal grace, but power - for all its sweetness and appeal - could not replace the missteps she was ever doomed to make when it came to love of all kinds. So Noah could utter his steely assurances until his lungs withered away; a part of Hotaru will always deafen her ears to them.
Words aren't needed right now, blessedly. His intent is clear to her though it matters little given she'd trust him with most anything. It's merely her body anyway. Hardly anything of worth despite its resilience. Not that he holds her that way. No, he carries her as if she is a treasured thing, even in this cracked and empty state. Held close and secure as he does what she can't force herself to. Her eyes are swollen and raw from endless crying but still a few tears manage to slip out at the raw simplicity of Noah's careful, nearly reverent handling of her.
Allowance is an odd thing to consider, much less to be handed. As a woman of action, the Valkyrie can scarcely conceive of time spent just...what? Being? Existing? What she feels right now isn't exactly living except in the most literal sense. It's not like she has ever given herself time to rest or reflect in past periods of grief. Her mind is not a kind place without a purpose to distract it. Even now, Noah's heartbeat beneath her ear is noise and rhythm she can rely on to drown out the stream of panic in her head.
She sits there for what may well be an hour. Noah doesn't so much as twitch or show any indication of restlessness as time creeps onward. The only indication of it is the sliver of sunlight moving across the wood floors, stubbornly peeking past the curtains she'd drawn tightly that first morning without Sunjata.
"I've grieved in Halo too many times," she rasps from against his chest. After Sunjata and Nate, after Enzo's death, after Wessex's death. Deimos, Noah, Sah, Alys - they had all been there for her in their own way and time. But now there are only two. Hotaru knows she can withstand anything for better or worse but the idea of returning to her empty, boarded-up home in the back of the spa makes her stomach twist upon itself. Halo is a land predisposed to cold and quiet, isolation and introspection. Hotaru's chest is already so cold and still that she would surely cease to be a person if she tried to go back. "I don't want to be alone." Not tonight, in this empty house, but not ever either. "I just want my kids." Her voice wobbles pitifully as shame creeps up her neck to stain it pink. It's something a child should say about their parent, not the reverse. But Torchline is loud and sleepless, noise upon noise that can fill the empty parts inside her. "Will you...stay? Tonight? Or maybe even until I can pack enough to take with me?" She doesn't lift her head to look at him when she asks, a part of her fearful that this will be too much for even Noah's level of selflessness.
Words aren't needed right now, blessedly. His intent is clear to her though it matters little given she'd trust him with most anything. It's merely her body anyway. Hardly anything of worth despite its resilience. Not that he holds her that way. No, he carries her as if she is a treasured thing, even in this cracked and empty state. Held close and secure as he does what she can't force herself to. Her eyes are swollen and raw from endless crying but still a few tears manage to slip out at the raw simplicity of Noah's careful, nearly reverent handling of her.
Allowance is an odd thing to consider, much less to be handed. As a woman of action, the Valkyrie can scarcely conceive of time spent just...what? Being? Existing? What she feels right now isn't exactly living except in the most literal sense. It's not like she has ever given herself time to rest or reflect in past periods of grief. Her mind is not a kind place without a purpose to distract it. Even now, Noah's heartbeat beneath her ear is noise and rhythm she can rely on to drown out the stream of panic in her head.
She sits there for what may well be an hour. Noah doesn't so much as twitch or show any indication of restlessness as time creeps onward. The only indication of it is the sliver of sunlight moving across the wood floors, stubbornly peeking past the curtains she'd drawn tightly that first morning without Sunjata.
"I've grieved in Halo too many times," she rasps from against his chest. After Sunjata and Nate, after Enzo's death, after Wessex's death. Deimos, Noah, Sah, Alys - they had all been there for her in their own way and time. But now there are only two. Hotaru knows she can withstand anything for better or worse but the idea of returning to her empty, boarded-up home in the back of the spa makes her stomach twist upon itself. Halo is a land predisposed to cold and quiet, isolation and introspection. Hotaru's chest is already so cold and still that she would surely cease to be a person if she tried to go back. "I don't want to be alone." Not tonight, in this empty house, but not ever either. "I just want my kids." Her voice wobbles pitifully as shame creeps up her neck to stain it pink. It's something a child should say about their parent, not the reverse. But Torchline is loud and sleepless, noise upon noise that can fill the empty parts inside her. "Will you...stay? Tonight? Or maybe even until I can pack enough to take with me?" She doesn't lift her head to look at him when she asks, a part of her fearful that this will be too much for even Noah's level of selflessness.
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
