You're so cold
but you feel alive
No.
Tension eased from her thin shoulders, one that had not been obvious until it was gone. She sighed a quiet breath of thanks to whatever gods watched over him - Sarfin, perhaps? - but said nothing. Only nodded simple acceptance that he needed time off. That was understandable. More than acceptable. But at least he was coming back. Staying.
"And what about after they left?" It was a slightly too personal question, she knew that even as she asked it. The tone was light though, even - accepting of silence, or anything else he might throw her way.
Having gathered up most of the debris in a pile, Maea began to lif it into a bin with her mind, letting her telepathic hands serve as dustpan, one small pile after the other. Once it was done, she headed over to the bar and began to gather up all the spilled liquids on the floor. It rose up like murky droplets into the air, a glum rain in reverse; gritting her teeth to brace against her own powers, she forced the spoiled liquours to freeze into a solid lump. That too she chucked into the bin, and sighed in quiet relief when she could let the magic drain again. Terrified that it might disobey her again, and slip.
Tension eased from her thin shoulders, one that had not been obvious until it was gone. She sighed a quiet breath of thanks to whatever gods watched over him - Sarfin, perhaps? - but said nothing. Only nodded simple acceptance that he needed time off. That was understandable. More than acceptable. But at least he was coming back. Staying.
"And what about after they left?" It was a slightly too personal question, she knew that even as she asked it. The tone was light though, even - accepting of silence, or anything else he might throw her way.
Having gathered up most of the debris in a pile, Maea began to lif it into a bin with her mind, letting her telepathic hands serve as dustpan, one small pile after the other. Once it was done, she headed over to the bar and began to gather up all the spilled liquids on the floor. It rose up like murky droplets into the air, a glum rain in reverse; gritting her teeth to brace against her own powers, she forced the spoiled liquours to freeze into a solid lump. That too she chucked into the bin, and sighed in quiet relief when she could let the magic drain again. Terrified that it might disobey her again, and slip.
lay your hands on me
one last time
MAEA
