His crown lit up the way as he moved slowly
"Always?" He's certainly the palest person you've met, and the idea that he's always been that pasty speaks of a childhood kept away from the sun. "Think it does that t'everyone who bakes too long." It's another thing you'll have to work on while he's here, getting some color in that skin. A little bit of a tan, see if you can find some freckles...
Not your problem, Zeph!
His next comment and his weird shift in demeanor makes you pause and pull back, not quite sure what to make with it. Some people have objections to people like me is a knife into your chest, cutting down somewhere deep and opening up something strong. He looks so fragile as he says it, so vulnerable, expecting you to abandon him... for what?
Without thinking about it your arm suddenly snakes out, aiming to grab his chin between your fingers and pull his face toward yours, grip firm but gentle.
"I don't give a single flying fuck what yer race is, Red, y'hear me?" The intensity of your voice is only matched by your eyes as your search his face for understanding. "The person y'are is the shit y'do, not the blood in yer veins. Don't let anyone tell ya anythin' different - not even the gods."
Your hand lingers a beat longer before you drop it again, suddenly aware of the proximity, of what you've done. Abruptly you step back to place a comfortable pace between the pair of you, pressing your fingers through your hair. "So... yeah. My lettin' y'stay doesn't change 'cus'a yer race. An' frankly I'm a little hurt y'think I'm that much uva dick." The half-smile returns, softening the words, though you can still feel your heart racing in your throat.
Not your problem, Zeph!
His next comment and his weird shift in demeanor makes you pause and pull back, not quite sure what to make with it. Some people have objections to people like me is a knife into your chest, cutting down somewhere deep and opening up something strong. He looks so fragile as he says it, so vulnerable, expecting you to abandon him... for what?
Without thinking about it your arm suddenly snakes out, aiming to grab his chin between your fingers and pull his face toward yours, grip firm but gentle.
"I don't give a single flying fuck what yer race is, Red, y'hear me?" The intensity of your voice is only matched by your eyes as your search his face for understanding. "The person y'are is the shit y'do, not the blood in yer veins. Don't let anyone tell ya anythin' different - not even the gods."
Your hand lingers a beat longer before you drop it again, suddenly aware of the proximity, of what you've done. Abruptly you step back to place a comfortable pace between the pair of you, pressing your fingers through your hair. "So... yeah. My lettin' y'stay doesn't change 'cus'a yer race. An' frankly I'm a little hurt y'think I'm that much uva dick." The half-smile returns, softening the words, though you can still feel your heart racing in your throat.
past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind
zephyr
