DEIMOS
Heave the silver hollow sliver
The notion of children within this world came with its own set of drawbacks. His mind hinged on the amount they’d lost recently, fragile and insubstantial, as if they were nothing during the Fiat Lux barrage (air, dust, ash, fragments and filaments, returned to the ground and naught more). More cataclysms, more disasters around every turn, and the most vulnerable seeming to be amidst the onslaught of victims. He clenched his jaw for a moment, hand contorting over his glass, placing it down along the table while he steadied and attempted to reframe his way of thinking.Shouldn’t he have been content for her? To have this opportunity to try again? To let go of all the yesteryear parameters, let the bygones sweep away? To regrow and prosper, without the weight of history dispersed across her shoulders?
She seemed far more capable of that than himself, who lingered with his soul split in half, sometimes firmly entrenched in the past, amidst ice and snow and chilling ramparts, sometimes in the present, regarding strength, fortitude, and might.
Then there were proclamations of working on nurseries, with brightness and softness, and he sighed, released the tension from his bones, looking back towards her again on the boundaries of reassurance. Maybe he’d be able to make them something anyway, grant some notion of good will and prosperity, of new beginnings, instead of loitering on the threshold of foreboding, ominous toils. Maybe the child would be safe, and so would the mother, and everything would be fine.
Still, he nearly snorted when she took his hand, the careful arch to his brow remaining, an impish grin winding its way along the edges of his mouth. He squeezed in return, half-inclined to be obnoxious and put far more strength into it than necessary, but this wasn’t Kiada. This was Rex. “If you are sure,” allowing her a moment to rethink it.
Unite and spread the heart apart
