slow burning to the ground

if i let go, would you hold on, would we fly?

is it safer if we just say that we tried?

Unbeknownst to Sunjata, he had become a stray for Vai long before she’d even offered it. A few too many drinks and too dark of conversations, a few too many stumbles home with either her by his side or cradling him in another form, and she’d already taken that place easily in his mind.

Zeph releases his hand, however, and Sunjata remains relaxed —  a hum of a sigh slipping through his throat as he works to catch his breath. Eventually, however, the exhaustion in his bones takes over and he sinks and melts into the bed with Haai protectively watching from where she’s settled at the foot of the bed. He works his jaw, listening, not needing to tap whether he’s okay or not. He just needs to formulate the words in his fuzzy mind. “Yeah.” He says quietly, voice hoarse, eyes opening to spy Vai as she cleans up his face from the day’s events. “M’okay.” It’s a bit of a jumbled together mess of words, but coherent enough, as his gaze moves to Zeph then.

“Thank you.” For getting him here, having him looked at, constantly dragging him back from the panther on the edge of the beach.

are we laughing at the danger?

are we dancing after death, you and I?