if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?
is it safer if we just say that we tried?
Her words cause him to still a small amount, jaw clenching as he regards her clutching her wrist – the rain continuing to pour and coating his cloak and head with it, running the river of red along his neck. His gaze only leaves her to look toward the sky as she continues, letting the rain drip along his skin as he blinks them away to try and seem like he can see the stars behind the clouds that cover the day, knowing they are out there, somewhere, before he sighs.
His head lowers, looking to the trees now as if they hold the answers, but nothing does. Not even her words – because letting go is far more difficult to do than it sounds coming from her lips. He reaches up with a hand to run through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck as silence descends and he’s not entirely sure what to say, what to try and do, other than what he already has been. “I am trying.” He manages weakly.
Trying to be better, to let go of things, and for a moment he has – that night when Maea had come back to the house with him, the last time he’d seen her. It had only been her on his mind, flitting through the rooms of the home, tending to the garden and the wisteria, but he’d said nothing. Nothing. Because it hadn’t felt right, he hadn’t figured it out until that moment, and perhaps that made him irrational and impulsive, but he’d known long before that was some of his flaws.
Steel greys lift to meet Delphia’s growing corporeal form, hidden sparks of pain lingering within them there as he swallows hard. “It’s not something I can do quickly, but I can, and that’s the problem.” He adds, sighing heavily and shifting on his feet to cross his arms again. “I just need the time to do it.”
His head lowers, looking to the trees now as if they hold the answers, but nothing does. Not even her words – because letting go is far more difficult to do than it sounds coming from her lips. He reaches up with a hand to run through his hair, resting it at the back of his neck as silence descends and he’s not entirely sure what to say, what to try and do, other than what he already has been. “I am trying.” He manages weakly.
Trying to be better, to let go of things, and for a moment he has – that night when Maea had come back to the house with him, the last time he’d seen her. It had only been her on his mind, flitting through the rooms of the home, tending to the garden and the wisteria, but he’d said nothing. Nothing. Because it hadn’t felt right, he hadn’t figured it out until that moment, and perhaps that made him irrational and impulsive, but he’d known long before that was some of his flaws.
Steel greys lift to meet Delphia’s growing corporeal form, hidden sparks of pain lingering within them there as he swallows hard. “It’s not something I can do quickly, but I can, and that’s the problem.” He adds, sighing heavily and shifting on his feet to cross his arms again. “I just need the time to do it.”
are we laughing at the danger?
are we dancing after death, you and I?
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
