Hotaru
angels would damn themselves for me
Icy wind kisses her nape, but it doesn’t inspire her to turn. Though her eyes flutter closed as she feels his soul reach for her own, her name a question in a voice she could recognize blind. Here, Dei. Reaching, guiding, a flicker of firelight in the darkness for him to follow. As if the space itself is not well-lit, in contrast to the quiet bubble of shadow she resides in by the fire. He always comes when she calls, just as she would for him, and her heart aches with gratitude when she opens her eyes to find arched brows and carefully constructed features. An out, if she needs it. To pretend, to evade, to take a more lighthearted route. But Ru doesn’t need that now, not anymore, and so she extends her free hand to the chair at her side in invitation. The kettle warm on its stand between them, empty cup already set for his use if it strikes him. “I think it’s time to, yes,” she responds quietly, aware of the implications of her response and how it opens the door for honesty. “Sit with me?” As though she hadn’t already invited it with her outstretched hand. What it really means is be with me?
