i'm tired of the weight of mortality, i want to tear it from my veins
until i bleed silver and gold
She hears him, while she sets the box on the counter and drifts to the back of the couch where he sits — his apology waved off as she leans over him, sapphire gaze meeting his own ice blues, dark swaths of hair falling before his face. “No need to apologize to me.” She chimes, eyes crinkling with the smile that crosses her face. She moves then, settling to perch herself on the edge of the couch, the arm rest. “You’ve been like this a while.” She looks around the room before her gaze finds him again, mischief sparking in her gaze.
“So that’s why I planned some stuff for us to do today. I even brought you some of your favorite pastries.” Clasping her hands together in an air of dramatics rubbed off by Bastien, she pushes herself off the edge of the couch to latch onto his arm, to pull him up, to be that thorn in his side to get him to move. “They’re bear claws…”
“So that’s why I planned some stuff for us to do today. I even brought you some of your favorite pastries.” Clasping her hands together in an air of dramatics rubbed off by Bastien, she pushes herself off the edge of the couch to latch onto his arm, to pull him up, to be that thorn in his side to get him to move. “They’re bear claws…”
maybe one day they'll chant our names
and name galaxies after us, and we too shall be eternal
REXANNA
