COLT
She's a runner, she's a lover, always stuck in her ways
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
Pull her closer, think you know her, now she's turning the page
She gave a warning if it's storming, she'll be gone with the rain
She doesn't pluck at the silence that meets her refusal, answer enough in the things he doesn't say, even if she can't see beyond the shape of his face for anything more. There's a muted sense of defeat as she lets it go, evident that she hasn't made any progress in convincing him. It's energy she doesn't have the reserves to waste, not over something that's already come to pass and can't be altered.
He shrugs away the things that she thinks matter and picks up the ones she puts down. It causes her gaze to narrow, searching for a better answer in the lines of his face or the seat of his gaze, but those don't offer her anything different. "I'm not sure I could aim well in such a short span of time," she says around the shape of a small smile, trying to smooth away the tension she's sure has found his shoulders, as it has so many times before under the weight of his role. She does not envy his position, not for the least of which is being whisked into danger by an ex.
She might have gone on to explain more about the creature, but the sudden pressure of his fingers that have thus far been careful, grabs her as surely as if his hand were at her chin, fixing her focus firmly to his eyes. Around them, the low sound of his voice, the intent not lost for volume. If she has any lingering doubts about how dutiful he's being about them, the follow-up makes it plain it comes from Vesper, not the demigod.
She should sit with it, fold it up neatly and put it in her chest alongside all the other nice things he's said, and maybe she'd earn enough to cover all the scars. She can't though, not when half of this conversation has felt like the best version of the goodbye he always wanted to give her. Not when he seemed set that leaving could be the only answer for them. "What is this, Ves." It's a question, but it comes out without the ask, flat and fearful. Everything else he'd said had been an explanation. Gut-wrenching at times, but all reviewing things that had already passed between them, even if the undercurrent still hums alive and well. This though, this feels like a promise, something for the future. "You can't tell me one second all you could do was walk away and the next that you'll always show up." Trembling, her fingers slowly slip out of his, sliding back onto the grass. The small movement feels like a monumental ask, and the absence of his touch is an immediate chill.
He shrugs away the things that she thinks matter and picks up the ones she puts down. It causes her gaze to narrow, searching for a better answer in the lines of his face or the seat of his gaze, but those don't offer her anything different. "I'm not sure I could aim well in such a short span of time," she says around the shape of a small smile, trying to smooth away the tension she's sure has found his shoulders, as it has so many times before under the weight of his role. She does not envy his position, not for the least of which is being whisked into danger by an ex.
She might have gone on to explain more about the creature, but the sudden pressure of his fingers that have thus far been careful, grabs her as surely as if his hand were at her chin, fixing her focus firmly to his eyes. Around them, the low sound of his voice, the intent not lost for volume. If she has any lingering doubts about how dutiful he's being about them, the follow-up makes it plain it comes from Vesper, not the demigod.
She should sit with it, fold it up neatly and put it in her chest alongside all the other nice things he's said, and maybe she'd earn enough to cover all the scars. She can't though, not when half of this conversation has felt like the best version of the goodbye he always wanted to give her. Not when he seemed set that leaving could be the only answer for them. "What is this, Ves." It's a question, but it comes out without the ask, flat and fearful. Everything else he'd said had been an explanation. Gut-wrenching at times, but all reviewing things that had already passed between them, even if the undercurrent still hums alive and well. This though, this feels like a promise, something for the future. "You can't tell me one second all you could do was walk away and the next that you'll always show up." Trembling, her fingers slowly slip out of his, sliding back onto the grass. The small movement feels like a monumental ask, and the absence of his touch is an immediate chill.
When she's in it, she's all in it, ain't no holding her back
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
When I'm with her, she's a river moving steady and fast
She's afraid of all the ways her heart is broke like glass
Received a Gilded Market wig from Remi that resembles her usual hair and is enchanted to stay on better than most wigs | has a reverse centaur tattoo on her left hand with the legs going down her pointer and middle fingers that looks like this.
