Hotaru
My head's a burial ground of your memory
Tense shoulders buckle beneath the ironclad surety of his words. She shouldn't believe in it - not because she believes Remi could not bend as much of the world to his will to ensure it, but because historically Hotaru has never felt she could trust in such vows. But she does. She trusts him, so deeply it scares the shit out of her on any other day. Right now, she clings to the roil of thunder in the distance, the strength that lies just out of reach in his gentle hold on her face. Hotaru knows her words are jumping, explanations disjointed and half-spoken, but he follows along as if reading written word. And just like that the problem has been taken from her hands. Another tear crests her cheek, and she wonders if his magic works here in this dream world. If he can feel the relief, the gratitude, even the disbelief that he simply exists the way he does; loyal, helpful.
"We've got this, yeah?" Her grin is a little shaken, but it's clear even this can't bend the iron frame she's built upon. Ru's hands come to cover his own. "A little early but that's okay." Taking a page out of his book, unclear who the phrase is meant to comfort. Handing him the reins, and letting go control for now. That strength will be needed later, she's sure of it.
