DEIMOS
A promise, a title to convictions even if it damned and doomed to go awry, something to place faith within before it all was blown to cinders. Another nod, already trying to stave off the multitude of ruminations encircling, enclosing over him, desperate to remain clear-headed while they marched through leaves and underbrush, desperate to remain whole and composed while they reeled around subjects.
His plans for the wedding had been bare-minimum at best; save for Safrin, everything else had been put on hold. So he’d permit the excitement and zeal around cakes, around things he’d once helped orchestrate for two others – ring boxes and festivities – the happiness and contentment that had seemed to fill the entities, even if for only a day. The Sword hadn’t imagined anything of Kiada’s magnitude in calculations or machinations – would’ve likely savored it had he known – too absorbed in the tasks before him. Glee and exhilaration could come later. The beast watched his bonded meandering, continuing to scope out the scenery, the verdant nuances, nothing coming close to what they required. The bitterness swelled, threatened to defy.
He choked it down, down, down all over again, listening instead about this Harper individual, pondering just what exactly all of this meant. A warning? A sign? He knew what dances at Fiat Lux led to, in his own experiences, so a wavering snort landed somewhere in between. “And you enjoy his company?” Or was there more? Did he even want to know?
His plans for the wedding had been bare-minimum at best; save for Safrin, everything else had been put on hold. So he’d permit the excitement and zeal around cakes, around things he’d once helped orchestrate for two others – ring boxes and festivities – the happiness and contentment that had seemed to fill the entities, even if for only a day. The Sword hadn’t imagined anything of Kiada’s magnitude in calculations or machinations – would’ve likely savored it had he known – too absorbed in the tasks before him. Glee and exhilaration could come later. The beast watched his bonded meandering, continuing to scope out the scenery, the verdant nuances, nothing coming close to what they required. The bitterness swelled, threatened to defy.
He choked it down, down, down all over again, listening instead about this Harper individual, pondering just what exactly all of this meant. A warning? A sign? He knew what dances at Fiat Lux led to, in his own experiences, so a wavering snort landed somewhere in between. “And you enjoy his company?” Or was there more? Did he even want to know?
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
