Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
”Did I deny that you needed time?” she asks, not recalling such a thing (though there had been a lot of booze that first night). ”Still, perhaps they worried you’d get yourself killed before time could heal you.” She gives him a look and a shrug. Though she wasn’t necessarily going to condone the spiral, she’d also only witnessed the tail end of it. He’s told her pieces though, and she imagines there was a time when it was worse than merely drinking and fucking.
She chuckles as he returns the gesture, kissing her forehead just a chastely. Her grin is mischievous, amused, enjoying the fact he could play along with her entirely ridiculous games. Still, she leans forward again, placing a hand on his cheek and finds his lips this time. A light kiss, a simple thing, but a little more real. He tastes like cinnamon and chocolate, like cold wind and magic.
Again, she leans back, returning to the conversation. ”Pretty well. There’s one I’m struggling with though, so maybe you can help me. Maea had thought to do something crisp and cool, kind of like peppermint bark. It just doesn’t feel right to me yet, like maybe it’s missing something? Or too much of something?” She was doing better with the cider and the whiskey combinations, the absinthe, the deeper, richer flavors. She needed Maea to make her idea come to life, but perhaps Loren would have a good idea. ”There’s a cider and whiskey drink I make that is my current favorite. I’ll make you one.”
Weaver giggles slightly as he pokes at her ribs, swatting away his hand with her free one, trying not to spill her cider. ”Hey now, you’ll waste perfectly good booze,” she says, trying to sound annoyed, though clearly she is not. ”And it means absolutely nothing. You have no reason to worry if you decide to have kids here. At least, I don’t think you will when that happens. You belong in Halo. Everyone else will see it soon enough.” Now that is real truth, and she is serious as she says it, meeting his eyes.
She chuckles as he returns the gesture, kissing her forehead just a chastely. Her grin is mischievous, amused, enjoying the fact he could play along with her entirely ridiculous games. Still, she leans forward again, placing a hand on his cheek and finds his lips this time. A light kiss, a simple thing, but a little more real. He tastes like cinnamon and chocolate, like cold wind and magic.
Again, she leans back, returning to the conversation. ”Pretty well. There’s one I’m struggling with though, so maybe you can help me. Maea had thought to do something crisp and cool, kind of like peppermint bark. It just doesn’t feel right to me yet, like maybe it’s missing something? Or too much of something?” She was doing better with the cider and the whiskey combinations, the absinthe, the deeper, richer flavors. She needed Maea to make her idea come to life, but perhaps Loren would have a good idea. ”There’s a cider and whiskey drink I make that is my current favorite. I’ll make you one.”
Weaver giggles slightly as he pokes at her ribs, swatting away his hand with her free one, trying not to spill her cider. ”Hey now, you’ll waste perfectly good booze,” she says, trying to sound annoyed, though clearly she is not. ”And it means absolutely nothing. You have no reason to worry if you decide to have kids here. At least, I don’t think you will when that happens. You belong in Halo. Everyone else will see it soon enough.” Now that is real truth, and she is serious as she says it, meeting his eyes.
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
