the kind of man I can be

Neron

the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen

Look at them go, holding hands like an everyday couple on a date, rather than an Ascended ex-Warden and his soldier successor. Loathe as he is to admit it, Neron is also touch-starved, and whilst he can't feel the intricacies of the warmth and caress of her fingers, he enjoys it thoroughly nonetheless. Sitting contently with their hands twined together, he considers Morgan's question with a hum of curiosity. "I understand the heat, but I don't feel it," he says slowly. "It's hard to explain. It's like this body registers what's happening, so I can do something about it. But warm isn't the same as it used to be."

Clearing his throat and realising he hasn't really answered the question, he grins across at her. "Physically though, yes - I do warm up." Too much, if he's set on fire - but that doesn't seem like the kind of dark humour they need tonight. He relaxes, by degrees, as she continues to explain about Deimos; an unfortunate run-in with his family is enough to put anyone off. "I daresay I am obligated to change his mind," he remarks, nudging her playfully. "Especially if he catches you sneaking out with me."

sometimes the soul
has days like these