ISKRA
I always feel alone, inside my mind
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
He swallows the notion as if it's little more than a morsel her lips have provided, this bad idea. Consumes it as he instead presses the taste of victory to her tongue, as much a distraction from the trembles that threaten to rattle her as it is evidence that she does not walk up to this edge alone any longer. He can be her lightning rod if that's what she needs. Her storm predictor. The grounding source for her.
The feel of her in his hands rises and swells like a tide he's caught. She reaches back with just as much fervor, sweeping him into her touch in a way that loses the world for the moments he has her. Heat colors the tips of his ears, flushed briefly with the giddy satisfaction that kissing her always brings him, depositing him directly back into boyhood for a time.
With vigor restored, he can part from her with the reassurance that she can do this. That she can do more. Foreheads tilted, his rolls a bit back and forth, humming a faint agreement to her okay. "You can conquer this. I already know that." Because compared to everything else, she has a strong history of rising on top.
He doesn't step away from her, but rather shifts against her side, one arm draping across her shoulders as he keeps her tucked beneath his coat sleeve. Her lightning carves out once more, and Snah is struggling, the slush starting to slide into ruin. He doesn't indicate that he feels her shudders, just lets his thumb roll against her shoulder, smoothing them away as if they're little more than hair that's come out of place. "Yeah," he agrees with the low quiet of someone about to wield her nightmare.
His hand not around her dips back into his pocket and the wooly cloth there. As he rubs static back to his fingertips, his attention remains on her, although he perseveres even if she seems worried. Not to push her, hardly about to shove her into the chaos of depthless fears, but neither if he trying to coddle her or let her weakness nip at her heels and cow her from the strength he sees. "Just breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose. Hold it for a count of three before you release it." The advice he offers has helped him a time or two, the act often restting his body that'd begun to spiral.
Building up the charge, so that the pressure in the air and the aroma of the budding break of it is something she can wade through, he finally lets it snarl out towards Snah, pouring through the hole and widening it.
The feel of her in his hands rises and swells like a tide he's caught. She reaches back with just as much fervor, sweeping him into her touch in a way that loses the world for the moments he has her. Heat colors the tips of his ears, flushed briefly with the giddy satisfaction that kissing her always brings him, depositing him directly back into boyhood for a time.
With vigor restored, he can part from her with the reassurance that she can do this. That she can do more. Foreheads tilted, his rolls a bit back and forth, humming a faint agreement to her okay. "You can conquer this. I already know that." Because compared to everything else, she has a strong history of rising on top.
He doesn't step away from her, but rather shifts against her side, one arm draping across her shoulders as he keeps her tucked beneath his coat sleeve. Her lightning carves out once more, and Snah is struggling, the slush starting to slide into ruin. He doesn't indicate that he feels her shudders, just lets his thumb roll against her shoulder, smoothing them away as if they're little more than hair that's come out of place. "Yeah," he agrees with the low quiet of someone about to wield her nightmare.
His hand not around her dips back into his pocket and the wooly cloth there. As he rubs static back to his fingertips, his attention remains on her, although he perseveres even if she seems worried. Not to push her, hardly about to shove her into the chaos of depthless fears, but neither if he trying to coddle her or let her weakness nip at her heels and cow her from the strength he sees. "Just breathe in through your mouth and out through your nose. Hold it for a count of three before you release it." The advice he offers has helped him a time or two, the act often restting his body that'd begun to spiral.
Building up the charge, so that the pressure in the air and the aroma of the budding break of it is something she can wade through, he finally lets it snarl out towards Snah, pouring through the hole and widening it.
I've been trying to find something
that can set my soul free
that can set my soul free
