DEIMOS
The first answer cut, as he had known it would, a sharp intake of breath before something gnarled and welled behind his chest. It might’ve been a scar too, amongst the scrawls of mottled, ruined flesh, carved deeper than the swords, than the daggers, than the ramparts once bombarding his existence. Because he was made of these wounds, these thresholds, these lacerations, and to hate them, their meaning, their piercing, keen entities, meant he was detested at some level too. His heart hurt and he knew he shouldn’t have asked, shouldn’t have bothered with the inquiry, shouldn’t have leveled one more damned knot of sorrow in their agony.
Vulnerable, bereft, and exposed, the beast instantly wanted to hide, to take his shirt back, to disappear back into shadows, into ether, into smoke and fumes. His head remained bowed, the rest of him already broken, already brittle, eyes closed, afraid to look at her face, to see some revulsion reflected back. The notion of surrender, of retreat, felt imminent, and then he could wall himself up, shut every sentiment, every emotion off –
The soft, dulcet splay of her fingers on one spurned, sent, a release of air reeling from his lungs. His skin might have shuddered, undulated, beneath the careful caress, while the rest of him stood rigid, still, surprised, stunned, gaze flickering open, staring down into her dampened, black gaze. His threatened their overwhelmed stature, tears welling in the corners, struggling to blink them away. Loved them too; for far more than their clawed stature, their unholy abyss, their protective emblems, banners of what he’d done for so many others. Striving to control, to pull himself out of the drowning sanction, one hand reached for hers, fingers shaking, pulse beating rapidly, stare searching hers, begging for a lifeline. “I cannot change them,” couldn’t change his past, a whisper, as if to hear them echo back over the walls would be choking, grating, and maiming. They’d be there for an eternity, for however long his bones remained on this damned and consecrated earth. But maybe their meanings could adapt, assimilate, just as he’d done. Maybe this was enough. Another sigh, head lowering, brow intending to rest against hers, whispers passed between breaths. “I do not want to be anywhere else.” Than here, with you.
Vulnerable, bereft, and exposed, the beast instantly wanted to hide, to take his shirt back, to disappear back into shadows, into ether, into smoke and fumes. His head remained bowed, the rest of him already broken, already brittle, eyes closed, afraid to look at her face, to see some revulsion reflected back. The notion of surrender, of retreat, felt imminent, and then he could wall himself up, shut every sentiment, every emotion off –
The soft, dulcet splay of her fingers on one spurned, sent, a release of air reeling from his lungs. His skin might have shuddered, undulated, beneath the careful caress, while the rest of him stood rigid, still, surprised, stunned, gaze flickering open, staring down into her dampened, black gaze. His threatened their overwhelmed stature, tears welling in the corners, struggling to blink them away. Loved them too; for far more than their clawed stature, their unholy abyss, their protective emblems, banners of what he’d done for so many others. Striving to control, to pull himself out of the drowning sanction, one hand reached for hers, fingers shaking, pulse beating rapidly, stare searching hers, begging for a lifeline. “I cannot change them,” couldn’t change his past, a whisper, as if to hear them echo back over the walls would be choking, grating, and maiming. They’d be there for an eternity, for however long his bones remained on this damned and consecrated earth. But maybe their meanings could adapt, assimilate, just as he’d done. Maybe this was enough. Another sigh, head lowering, brow intending to rest against hers, whispers passed between breaths. “I do not want to be anywhere else.” Than here, with you.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
