HARPER
He’d sought out Maeve the next moment he’d had with her. Giving no time for fretting, confusion, or fear over his and Jude’s disappearance back to Harper’s old home. With Jude and Phoebe together, Harper had struck out - alone for the first time in a year - to find Maeve.
He finds her in the Court, and he’s sure she can feel the hurricane of emotion the second he’s in range; grief, confusion, hurt, confusion. Anything she asks is responded to with vague, half-there answers and the shake of his head until they’ve made it to the coastline. The waters are cold and dark, winter’s grip unrelenting, but he doesn’t care about that now.
He turns and grabs both her hands, and finally looks into her eyes. “I’m going to tell you a lot at once, but I need you to hear me to the end, okay? It’s going to be a lot. But I can’t leave anything out.” The risks of her potential reactions, martyrdom, or hurt are too high. But he won’t let her linger in tension and anticipation either. “Phoebe is back,” he says immediately. She will feel again in fresh waves Harper’s hurt, abandonment, confusion, but Harper has never relied on magic to spearhead his communication. He squeezes her hands in case she tries to pull away, not wanting to give her a chance to pull away or assume. “She said she was in a garden, a magical one of some sort, and that the past year felt like minutes to her. She didn’t remember having Jude at all. She was…really not doing well at first, being faced with all the changes.” He can recall her proprietary screech, demanding he hand Jude over, like a ringing bell in his ears. But she’d been so gentle with the baby after, and for that he is immensely grateful. “I told her about us. And I told her that…that I’m not sure if I can be with her, but that I would never dream of keeping Jude away from her, or her out of Jude’s life.” Lifting a hand, it rubs rough over his face - and then lingers there, over his eyes, as the tears finally, finally come. “I don’t know what to do Maeve. I don’t - she left us, again, and I moved on because that’s what she always preached.” For herself and others, and Harper had been grateful for her teaching him that lesson once upon a time. “But now I’ve hurt her by doing that, because this time I grieved her entirely and moved on, but to her time didn’t even pass.”
His hand falls, and the wetness on his cheeks is cold, but easy to ignore. Gripping Maeve’s hands - desperately, or reassuringly? He can’t tell - Harper forces the weight of his sincerity to the forefront of the bond. “I won’t just pack up and leave you because she’s back - I don’t want to. And I don’t trust her anymore. Gods, what if she disappears again, but Jude is with her?” Terror like he’s never known roils in his heart. His only child, his firstborn. Lost. He can’t conceive of it; it makes him feel dark, terrible things that he hasn’t faced in years, and in fear of Maeve sensing them he shoves them deep down once more. “But I don’t know what to do. I don’t…” he trails off, hand rising to cover his eyes once more, white-knuckled with how tight he presses down on them; pressing and pressing until he sees sparks in the darkness. Wanting to hide away, or to hide his tears, he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know anything anymore.
He finds her in the Court, and he’s sure she can feel the hurricane of emotion the second he’s in range; grief, confusion, hurt, confusion. Anything she asks is responded to with vague, half-there answers and the shake of his head until they’ve made it to the coastline. The waters are cold and dark, winter’s grip unrelenting, but he doesn’t care about that now.
He turns and grabs both her hands, and finally looks into her eyes. “I’m going to tell you a lot at once, but I need you to hear me to the end, okay? It’s going to be a lot. But I can’t leave anything out.” The risks of her potential reactions, martyrdom, or hurt are too high. But he won’t let her linger in tension and anticipation either. “Phoebe is back,” he says immediately. She will feel again in fresh waves Harper’s hurt, abandonment, confusion, but Harper has never relied on magic to spearhead his communication. He squeezes her hands in case she tries to pull away, not wanting to give her a chance to pull away or assume. “She said she was in a garden, a magical one of some sort, and that the past year felt like minutes to her. She didn’t remember having Jude at all. She was…really not doing well at first, being faced with all the changes.” He can recall her proprietary screech, demanding he hand Jude over, like a ringing bell in his ears. But she’d been so gentle with the baby after, and for that he is immensely grateful. “I told her about us. And I told her that…that I’m not sure if I can be with her, but that I would never dream of keeping Jude away from her, or her out of Jude’s life.” Lifting a hand, it rubs rough over his face - and then lingers there, over his eyes, as the tears finally, finally come. “I don’t know what to do Maeve. I don’t - she left us, again, and I moved on because that’s what she always preached.” For herself and others, and Harper had been grateful for her teaching him that lesson once upon a time. “But now I’ve hurt her by doing that, because this time I grieved her entirely and moved on, but to her time didn’t even pass.”
His hand falls, and the wetness on his cheeks is cold, but easy to ignore. Gripping Maeve’s hands - desperately, or reassuringly? He can’t tell - Harper forces the weight of his sincerity to the forefront of the bond. “I won’t just pack up and leave you because she’s back - I don’t want to. And I don’t trust her anymore. Gods, what if she disappears again, but Jude is with her?” Terror like he’s never known roils in his heart. His only child, his firstborn. Lost. He can’t conceive of it; it makes him feel dark, terrible things that he hasn’t faced in years, and in fear of Maeve sensing them he shoves them deep down once more. “But I don’t know what to do. I don’t…” he trails off, hand rising to cover his eyes once more, white-knuckled with how tight he presses down on them; pressing and pressing until he sees sparks in the darkness. Wanting to hide away, or to hide his tears, he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know anything anymore.
this is your ocean, an ocean of night
BASE INSPIRED BY ODD <3
