you have survived every moment of your life
even the ones you swore you wouldn't
Her consideration of the idea at all is enough to bring a small, encouraging smile to his face. Wanting so much better for her. He could never cross over to her side, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t still too human, too soft, to not still care for her. “You could offer it up once it’s repaired, as a council member I can find some leads to find someone who would utilize it well.” That way she could wash her hands of it once it was done without needing to find a suitable owner on her own. “His name is Bartholomew. Bit of a coarse guy, but nice.” And very adamantly pro-Ascended, given his twin, and as such a safe person for her to meet. So long as she didn’t reveal her hand in the fire.
Her anger is partially missed, only glimpsed at the end as it simmers and tempers, as he looks up from his child’s face. The loyal husband inside demands he defend Phoebe, but the newly born father is firmly rooted on the side Maea presents. Jaded, angry, hurt by the abandonment. Not just of him this time, but their child. A child who would grow up without knowing their mother’s face or voice. Abandonment of just him he could forgive, but their son…
“I know,” he says softly instead, a middle ground answer that doesn’t sour his tongue too badly to think ill of the woman he loves. Harper leans into Maea’s shoulder in turn, soaking up the companionship desperately. How long since he has been touched with intention? Something more than a brush of hands or bump of shoulders in the market? He feels seen for the first time in a season - perhaps more - like Maea has reached through his gossamer edges and tethered him back to reality. Making him tangible once more. “A friend would be nice,” he admits, never one to shy away from vulnerability or asking for what he needs. Glancing at the sky and then down at his son, he leans into Maea a fraction more. “He doesn’t sleep unless we’re walking sometimes, but clearly it’s worked. Come back with me?” They could shelter inside easily enough, and she would be welcome to stay until the sun went down again.
Her anger is partially missed, only glimpsed at the end as it simmers and tempers, as he looks up from his child’s face. The loyal husband inside demands he defend Phoebe, but the newly born father is firmly rooted on the side Maea presents. Jaded, angry, hurt by the abandonment. Not just of him this time, but their child. A child who would grow up without knowing their mother’s face or voice. Abandonment of just him he could forgive, but their son…
“I know,” he says softly instead, a middle ground answer that doesn’t sour his tongue too badly to think ill of the woman he loves. Harper leans into Maea’s shoulder in turn, soaking up the companionship desperately. How long since he has been touched with intention? Something more than a brush of hands or bump of shoulders in the market? He feels seen for the first time in a season - perhaps more - like Maea has reached through his gossamer edges and tethered him back to reality. Making him tangible once more. “A friend would be nice,” he admits, never one to shy away from vulnerability or asking for what he needs. Glancing at the sky and then down at his son, he leans into Maea a fraction more. “He doesn’t sleep unless we’re walking sometimes, but clearly it’s worked. Come back with me?” They could shelter inside easily enough, and she would be welcome to stay until the sun went down again.
this time is no different
you will last
