Zavien
While Soh worked, Zavien did too. He let his thoughts drift. More often than not, they brushed against the mundane, admiring the way a star flickered or noticing the smooth scratch of pencil on paper, thinking on how every line of his body was relaxed in the reality of Soh's presence, comforted by all the steps they'd taken tonight, giddy at the newness of it all.
The breeze brushed against his hair, curling strands over his forehead like it might smooth out the creases that formed whenever his thoughts weren't as kind.
When doubts or fears crept in like the shadows of the night, Zavien was faced with his real work. He rolled up his mental sleeves and wrestled the thoughts into submission each time. While they cut deep with sharp memories or brutal guilts, he punched them back with facts and warm reassurances. Each time it became easier, a reflex he strengthened and honed, willing himself to believe every defense he cultivated: Lena would have wanted him to be happy, Koa supports his happiness, Soh makes him happy. Slowly, like learning a muscle memory, Zavien began to convince himself he could embrace this, that he could be happy in these moments too.
Then, as more time passed and he gave his body permission to sink into the natural comfort of Soh and the night sky, his eyes drifted closed, a soft snore starting in the back of his throat.
The breeze brushed against his hair, curling strands over his forehead like it might smooth out the creases that formed whenever his thoughts weren't as kind.
When doubts or fears crept in like the shadows of the night, Zavien was faced with his real work. He rolled up his mental sleeves and wrestled the thoughts into submission each time. While they cut deep with sharp memories or brutal guilts, he punched them back with facts and warm reassurances. Each time it became easier, a reflex he strengthened and honed, willing himself to believe every defense he cultivated: Lena would have wanted him to be happy, Koa supports his happiness, Soh makes him happy. Slowly, like learning a muscle memory, Zavien began to convince himself he could embrace this, that he could be happy in these moments too.
Then, as more time passed and he gave his body permission to sink into the natural comfort of Soh and the night sky, his eyes drifted closed, a soft snore starting in the back of his throat.
That’s How We’re Gonna Win.
Not Fighting What We Hate,
Saving What We Love.
Not Fighting What We Hate,
Saving What We Love.
