DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
An appearance and then a mild complaint; and he inhaled sharply again, loosening on a slow breath, muffling a snort. Within a matter of moments, his incantations produced a shawl, starlit orchestrated, one hand offering it in some form of apology or generosity.
Otherwise he remained quite still, waiting and waiting and waiting while she inspected wares, head bowed until another comment circulated, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. One brow arched, and the stoic, reticent features cracked, half a smile curling in the corner of his mouth. “Not always.” True, when he was comfortable, content, and surrounded by sentiments of security. Then there was mischief and bemusements, joviality and juvenile charm.
The temptation to furrow his brows at her question was only just resisted – and instead he followed suit – placing himself upon the floor, several feet away. While Zuriel rooted her head on his shoulder, making them less rigid and taut, the Sword permitted one semblance, an echo, of a laugh, coiled within his chest. “You are intimidating. In beauty and power.” And not much terrified him - save for vulnerability, and those that could extinguish his life within an instant, no matter how much might rested in his own existence. “It is a way to protect myself.” A guard, a rampart, a wall.
Otherwise he remained quite still, waiting and waiting and waiting while she inspected wares, head bowed until another comment circulated, and he lifted his eyes to meet hers. One brow arched, and the stoic, reticent features cracked, half a smile curling in the corner of his mouth. “Not always.” True, when he was comfortable, content, and surrounded by sentiments of security. Then there was mischief and bemusements, joviality and juvenile charm.
The temptation to furrow his brows at her question was only just resisted – and instead he followed suit – placing himself upon the floor, several feet away. While Zuriel rooted her head on his shoulder, making them less rigid and taut, the Sword permitted one semblance, an echo, of a laugh, coiled within his chest. “You are intimidating. In beauty and power.” And not much terrified him - save for vulnerability, and those that could extinguish his life within an instant, no matter how much might rested in his own existence. “It is a way to protect myself.” A guard, a rampart, a wall.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
