Darling please, just give us some time, and I swear we'll be alright
Publicity has never swayed the Valkyrie before, and it will not start now. The resounding clang of metal against metal, the beleaguered grunts and gasps, shuffling of feet and din of murmuring fighters giving pointers is nothing more than background sound. Familiar white noise that Torchline cannot replicate with her sunny beaches and furtive denizens. Embarrassment is a notion far beyond her as the swollen, tender bubble inside her bursts with a gustlike sigh of relief the moment Deimos' stalwart motions spark recognition. Tension she didn't know she had melts away into springwater, leaving each step lighter as she rushes across the arena. He turns, and she could weep with joy in that moment as his face is bared to her, rugged and handsome and alight with recognition.
Deimos' arms open wide. I am home, her heart cries in jubilation. Here there is no hesitance, no uncertainty about where they stand, and that bedrock fills the void of stability that has left her so off-center since her return. She throws herself into his embrace with a level of faith that even the most pious would envy; as surely as the sun moves through the sky, he will be there to catch her. Swept off her feet and against his chest, she feels more than hears the rumble of her name, and her arms cling to his shoulders and squeeze as she presses her shining face into the warm valley of his throat. "I have missed you beyond words," manages to eek out in murmured tones past the lump in her throat, some concoction of relief, overwhelm, and ebullience.
Hotaru withdraws only enough to press their temples together, lips brushing gentle and swift over the crest of his cheekbone. It is a reunion made all the more potent than their first by the fact that she had known, this time, what she stood to lose. Their first had been too miraculous, too impossibly coincidental. Now there is relief, gratitude. A sense not of circumstantially finding what had long been thought lost, but of fighting through a dragging current to return to a most beloved piece of your heart. "Are you well? Longnight - you were safe?" Words seem impossible, so they falter as they cross her tongue, finding only the most important to impart. Is he okay? In her absence, has he fallen to harm? She must know, if only to fix it as swiftly as she can.
Deimos' arms open wide. I am home, her heart cries in jubilation. Here there is no hesitance, no uncertainty about where they stand, and that bedrock fills the void of stability that has left her so off-center since her return. She throws herself into his embrace with a level of faith that even the most pious would envy; as surely as the sun moves through the sky, he will be there to catch her. Swept off her feet and against his chest, she feels more than hears the rumble of her name, and her arms cling to his shoulders and squeeze as she presses her shining face into the warm valley of his throat. "I have missed you beyond words," manages to eek out in murmured tones past the lump in her throat, some concoction of relief, overwhelm, and ebullience.
Hotaru withdraws only enough to press their temples together, lips brushing gentle and swift over the crest of his cheekbone. It is a reunion made all the more potent than their first by the fact that she had known, this time, what she stood to lose. Their first had been too miraculous, too impossibly coincidental. Now there is relief, gratitude. A sense not of circumstantially finding what had long been thought lost, but of fighting through a dragging current to return to a most beloved piece of your heart. "Are you well? Longnight - you were safe?" Words seem impossible, so they falter as they cross her tongue, finding only the most important to impart. Is he okay? In her absence, has he fallen to harm? She must know, if only to fix it as swiftly as she can.
HOTARU
