DEIMOS
the resurrected sword
He listened to Safrin’s words, a small trace of humor embedded, infused there, only because he couldn’t imagine tossing or throwing them out in a fit of rage, wandering into a tryst, or denouncing the Shield, but the vows were there, certain. The truth in the statement of being untarnished by time, absolution, determination, a finality in his mind; no one else for him.
At the goddess’s grin, he did manage an impish, devilish inclination of his brow, before following through on just that: a hand softly sliding beneath her jaw, fingers curling gently, lifting her chin, bending his head down. His mouth descended upon hers, oaths, assurances, strength, convictions, and everything else surrounded, carved, and sculpted within his love. A thousand promises, a thousand pledges, an eternal commitment on his lips and in his mind, in his presence, along his entity. No words necessary - it had all been said, it had all been conveyed.
At the goddess’s grin, he did manage an impish, devilish inclination of his brow, before following through on just that: a hand softly sliding beneath her jaw, fingers curling gently, lifting her chin, bending his head down. His mouth descended upon hers, oaths, assurances, strength, convictions, and everything else surrounded, carved, and sculpted within his love. A thousand promises, a thousand pledges, an eternal commitment on his lips and in his mind, in his presence, along his entity. No words necessary - it had all been said, it had all been conveyed.
I belong to you
the way the moon belongs to the stars
the way the moon belongs to the stars
