SWORD
we watched the night under moonlight mixed in ocean air
the salty breeze tickled our necks
and we counted galaxies forgetting boundaries,
imagined reaching for them,
like for each other
He should’ve been used to looking like the fool, for all his blown tactics, strategies, and efforts. This one, however, was silly in its design – no one dying, no one screeching, no one hollering, no one beseeching one another in some deadly conflagration, no monsters clawing into the midst. Instead, it was mud slithering its way down his boot, shaking his head, intending to merely continue on, when the teasing comment strolled through the air.
He raised his brows, turning back towards the Shield, the sense of ease in her presence, comfort, acceptance, tolerance, capable of embodying idiotic forms in her platitude, obvious in the distinction of mischief instantly pulsing through his wake. Appearing somewhat innocent, which had probably never actually occurred a single day in his life, his hands swiped at the mud contorting its way up his leg, grabbing hold of it in his palm, piercing eyes sliding back to her. “Not at all,” he snickered and smirked, shrugging, extending the stoking of amusement through their accord and connection. She likely could presume what was coming next, volleys and instigation, a stoking, provoking facet, and he followed along the plan with ridiculous ease – arm quickly maneuvered back, then extended forward, launching a series of mud droplets to cascade out of their memorable form, intending to descend somewhere in Amalia’s midst.
He raised his brows, turning back towards the Shield, the sense of ease in her presence, comfort, acceptance, tolerance, capable of embodying idiotic forms in her platitude, obvious in the distinction of mischief instantly pulsing through his wake. Appearing somewhat innocent, which had probably never actually occurred a single day in his life, his hands swiped at the mud contorting its way up his leg, grabbing hold of it in his palm, piercing eyes sliding back to her. “Not at all,” he snickered and smirked, shrugging, extending the stoking of amusement through their accord and connection. She likely could presume what was coming next, volleys and instigation, a stoking, provoking facet, and he followed along the plan with ridiculous ease – arm quickly maneuvered back, then extended forward, launching a series of mud droplets to cascade out of their memorable form, intending to descend somewhere in Amalia’s midst.
SHIELD
the stars lined our heartbeats,
and we fell
so much harder,
than we ever had
before
