Darling please, just give us some time, and I swear we'll be alright
For a moment she basks in the silence that wraps around them like candy floss, mentally brushing against her bond with Atlas like a touchstone. For all she stands to lose upon returning to Torchline, she is not without her loved ones here and now. Even with war cresting slowly on the horizon there will always be moments like these. Pockets of peace and camaraderie that will help see them through to the other side. This night well be enough to keep her going. To lend her strength as she prepares to return to Sunjata with her decision held close and burning hot in her heart, cauterizing out all doubt in the wake of pain. Then...well, then she will probably return here until she can find her own lodgings. Reopen the spa. Try to remember how to live alone.
But she's never truly alone, and isn't that the point? She has Deimos. Kiada, when the girl isn't enamored with her beau, and even with all the worries and connections to the Voice she may hold. Wessex, who she cares for but whose ties are coiled all the tighter. Hotaru has never had an ample amount of friends, but it hurts all the same to know that if The Voice is destroyed that she will be left with only the man whose arms are currently wrapped around her. For that she is somewhat grateful. Hotaru doesn't want to imagine the woman she would become in the wake of his loss.
His mischievous notions pull her free of the darkening nature of her thoughts, and like ripples his smile inspires her own before she can do more than gaze upon it. The ears that poke brilliantly through his dark tresses has a startled laugh escaping her in a sound more like a squeak, and she slaps her free hand over her mouth as her eyes crinkle with mirth. "I can't believe I've gone this long without seeing this!" Darting her hand to get her greedy fingertips on those soft, fur-lined edges, gently tracing the curved outline of one ear - reluctant to let go of his hand with her other. "You've never been more adorable," Hotaru croons, eyes alight with teasing sparks and smile wide and endeared. For someone so ruggedly handsome, the word would normally be ill-fitting, but it's a perfect descriptor for what she is seeing.
"What do you think I would be?" An idle thought spoken aloud, but not without its sincerity. What does he see in her soul? What primordial reflection does he believe she would have? "I've always envied the ability to speak to one another silently. I'm sure it has its uses." That bond that she had bitterly desired between Nate and Sunjata would hurt less if she could share it with Deimos, with anyone else she could venture across who would be like her.
But she's never truly alone, and isn't that the point? She has Deimos. Kiada, when the girl isn't enamored with her beau, and even with all the worries and connections to the Voice she may hold. Wessex, who she cares for but whose ties are coiled all the tighter. Hotaru has never had an ample amount of friends, but it hurts all the same to know that if The Voice is destroyed that she will be left with only the man whose arms are currently wrapped around her. For that she is somewhat grateful. Hotaru doesn't want to imagine the woman she would become in the wake of his loss.
His mischievous notions pull her free of the darkening nature of her thoughts, and like ripples his smile inspires her own before she can do more than gaze upon it. The ears that poke brilliantly through his dark tresses has a startled laugh escaping her in a sound more like a squeak, and she slaps her free hand over her mouth as her eyes crinkle with mirth. "I can't believe I've gone this long without seeing this!" Darting her hand to get her greedy fingertips on those soft, fur-lined edges, gently tracing the curved outline of one ear - reluctant to let go of his hand with her other. "You've never been more adorable," Hotaru croons, eyes alight with teasing sparks and smile wide and endeared. For someone so ruggedly handsome, the word would normally be ill-fitting, but it's a perfect descriptor for what she is seeing.
"What do you think I would be?" An idle thought spoken aloud, but not without its sincerity. What does he see in her soul? What primordial reflection does he believe she would have? "I've always envied the ability to speak to one another silently. I'm sure it has its uses." That bond that she had bitterly desired between Nate and Sunjata would hurt less if she could share it with Deimos, with anyone else she could venture across who would be like her.
HOTARU
