DEIMOS
They wouldn’t ever move on, but forward, pieces and portions of acceptance. In the meantime, in the between intervals, there were tumultuous riots and acts of pain. He’d been through it before, over and over and over again, with his infernal rage and succumbing to bouts of gloom, trying to ignore it until it stretched and bound, shoved him back into those feral, quiet moments of darkness and despair. Sometimes the hardest notion to accept was that he’d been left behind, forced to live on without those individuals still in his life.
Except in memories, in greater, better times, gone before he’d even realized that’s what they’d been.
Which was why he always fought so hard now, for those he loved and cherished to remain.
Fingers, palms, and hands clasped, back into the sun, back into the road, gravel and dirt crunching beneath feet as they roamed away from the house. He glanced one last time at Adam’s shelter, sanctum, and sanctuary, wondered what would happen to it now – the same as all the other forlorn places? But the beast didn’t ask, roaming with her, listening to heartbeats intertwined, raising her hand, grazing knuckles to his lips, then lowering as they maneuvered together. His head tilted a fraction, indicating his attention upon her voice, the shuddering sigh, the lingering exhalation, and his following, as she noted she’d gone to see Ludo. He wasn’t surprised – though the notion curled into his membrane, into his skull, of all the other beings he’d lost, and how he’d never asked where their entities had gone. He’d witnessed them perished, deceased. He’d buried their forms into their earth. But thereafter, he’d mourned. The notion that Adam and Peter, companions likewise, were safe, not entirely left to the Arctic wiles and draconic reaches, unveiled another sigh, perhaps of relief, perhaps of acceptance. His mouth leaned down to press against her hairline, along the side of her temple, comfort in the ethers and vestiges of melancholy. “Together?” Because that seemed to matter too – that they’d find one another in the thereafter.
Except in memories, in greater, better times, gone before he’d even realized that’s what they’d been.
Which was why he always fought so hard now, for those he loved and cherished to remain.
Fingers, palms, and hands clasped, back into the sun, back into the road, gravel and dirt crunching beneath feet as they roamed away from the house. He glanced one last time at Adam’s shelter, sanctum, and sanctuary, wondered what would happen to it now – the same as all the other forlorn places? But the beast didn’t ask, roaming with her, listening to heartbeats intertwined, raising her hand, grazing knuckles to his lips, then lowering as they maneuvered together. His head tilted a fraction, indicating his attention upon her voice, the shuddering sigh, the lingering exhalation, and his following, as she noted she’d gone to see Ludo. He wasn’t surprised – though the notion curled into his membrane, into his skull, of all the other beings he’d lost, and how he’d never asked where their entities had gone. He’d witnessed them perished, deceased. He’d buried their forms into their earth. But thereafter, he’d mourned. The notion that Adam and Peter, companions likewise, were safe, not entirely left to the Arctic wiles and draconic reaches, unveiled another sigh, perhaps of relief, perhaps of acceptance. His mouth leaned down to press against her hairline, along the side of her temple, comfort in the ethers and vestiges of melancholy. “Together?” Because that seemed to matter too – that they’d find one another in the thereafter.
i'm in the mood to dissolve in the sky
