We have highs and we have lows

KIADA

your battleworn tongue doesn't say the truth;

that you are ruined

“Hey now.” Kiada replies a bit roughly, though there’s a pulse of amusement sent his way through her outwardly feigned hurt that crosses her face. It’s there for a moment before it’s gone, once again returning to the somber conversation they’re good at bringing up. She’s thankful for the way he offers her the space of leaning into him, of stepping up the porch steps to her home, of not having to unlock the door because she knows that he’s got it.

Would she go to Fiat Lux, though? “I don’t know… I guess it would depend on where it was.” She offers, even if it’s a bit unhelpful. She’d likely give it a shot if she could ensure that all the safety measures would be there in place. “I broke my leg last year when the ice shattered.” She informs him, unsure if she’s told him of it or not. So many wounds, so many small traumas, it was hard to keep track of them all.

But they’re inside and at the table, and she sinks into a chair across from where he moves to sit after handing her a glass of water. She sips lightly from it, clutching it in both hands as she draws her legs up a bit. “Would you want to go?” She assumes he would, simply for the fact that it’s his first Flowerbirth here. If it were her, she’d want to go too.

and you wonder why he lets you,

the butcher

touch him

the sun