i fell in love with a war
In his close examination of Deimos, namely out of the peripherals of his vision as his eyes stay largely adoringly enamored by Idalia's antics, he sees something hitch through the Warden's broad chest. He cannot name exactly what it is, there and gone as it is, but something burns in the hollows of his ribs that he did something, if not wrong, something not interesting or impressive, something enough to trigger that strange unknown spasm. Color decorates the very tops of his cheeks and he focuses his intense, focus gaze on the bunch on the table, wondering if it's possible to get high marks in making recreational flower crowns. With a sigh, he pushes those thoughts away, letting them flow out the tops of his fingers as he chooses a long-stemmed purple flower. He was here to connect with the living things that could blossom even in the frost and cold, to leave it all outside the humid walls of the greenhouse for an afternoon, including his soldier's tendencies for perfection.
As instructed, he measures the stem around his head, and when he finds it a touch too big, he uses his fingernail to cut off the excess so it lands more snugly. Idalia, seemingly as happy as anyone could be, clutches a berry in her little fists like it's a treasure worth anything, and Icarus muses that perhaps in some sort of strange, metaphorical way, it is.
Now he thinks he's straying a little too far from the soldier's mindset. He tucks a loose curl behind his ear, behind the little flower adornment, and turns his attention to Deimos again. "What's next?" He asks, and there's that same steel that underlies his words when he's trying to master a new drill.
As instructed, he measures the stem around his head, and when he finds it a touch too big, he uses his fingernail to cut off the excess so it lands more snugly. Idalia, seemingly as happy as anyone could be, clutches a berry in her little fists like it's a treasure worth anything, and Icarus muses that perhaps in some sort of strange, metaphorical way, it is.
Now he thinks he's straying a little too far from the soldier's mindset. He tucks a loose curl behind his ear, behind the little flower adornment, and turns his attention to Deimos again. "What's next?" He asks, and there's that same steel that underlies his words when he's trying to master a new drill.
Icarus
and nobody told me it ended
