after fury
what do you do
Unless necessity or amusement demanded it, Deimos was often a locked safehold of secrets. Helovia had boasted quite a few of them, from the furtive, specious, duplicitous efforts, to the ramparts of hidden, covert, surreptitious plots, operations, and strategies. Often times no one asked, and he merely had to withhold information; either intimidated, or simply knowing better than to bother inquiring. He’d done the same here out of inherent, instinctual habits, only insinuating certain, keen amounts, or something to galvanize, move a situation forward. Some had been warnings, tales of Zariah’s reign, experiences rendered so another wouldn’t have to suffer the same consequences, or in his and Amalia’s case, telling of their relationship when they were ready, and not at the insistence of prying individuals. So, despite Aisha’s insistence, especially with the playful motions, he wouldn’t budge; arching a brow and shaking his head. That seemed suitable to her anyways, as she sidled in closer, making herself at home in the stall. Long before, no one would have bothered, but he chose not to reflect on others somehow making space for him, or not being bothered by his presence. His attention went away from his own incantations, and to what her actions dictated. She raised a bucket, and he surveyed it without emotion, shifting his gaze from the wooden bombardments, and back to her. “You can find some there,” and he nodded his head towards a series of paint buckets, all different blends of hues. He’d meant to use them in fixing up some portions of their home; but time and circumstances had distracted and deterred.
with the remains?
DEIMOS
