you are not a grave for people to bury their pain inside
never to be remembered again
never to be remembered again
Patience is a virtue, though Hotaru is far from virtuous. She keeps her hand calmly extended, awaiting his verdict. Far from unaware of exactly the things he could choose to do, the temptations be may feel. This is far from her first time tangling with and courting dangerous individuals. And while she is not at all practiced in the art of trusting others with her own life (previously guarded and hard won with all the times she could have laid down and given up) Remi is worth trying for.
When his rough fingers touch her own, narrow shoulders slightly relax, though it is the only visible relief she’ll show. There’s no need when he can feel it more keenly, buried as it is beneath stronger waves of appreciation and regret.
Stepping closer as his fingers lace with her own, Hotaru shakes her head in a stilted motion. “I didn’t understand it myself. It was…” her tongue knots itself, choking any decent explanation. Instead she squeezes his hand, letting the horror she’d felt when her mind had been healed come through. How she had retched into the grass, terrified and disgusted. When his eyes meet hers, there is flinty steel to be found in mismatched irises. “Never. Phoebe said it’s usually only post-birth, and in less severe cases eventually goes away naturally. But if it does - I expect you to put me down like a dog if I ever become a threat to our children.” Simple and unaffected in tone, accepting of this axe she holds to her own nape. Death would be a better fate to Hotaru than harming her own babies.
In a slightly more vulnerable twist of emotion, she drops her forehead to his shoulder and exhales slowly. “It was horrible. But I couldn’t be happier that you kept them safe. How are they?”
When his rough fingers touch her own, narrow shoulders slightly relax, though it is the only visible relief she’ll show. There’s no need when he can feel it more keenly, buried as it is beneath stronger waves of appreciation and regret.
Stepping closer as his fingers lace with her own, Hotaru shakes her head in a stilted motion. “I didn’t understand it myself. It was…” her tongue knots itself, choking any decent explanation. Instead she squeezes his hand, letting the horror she’d felt when her mind had been healed come through. How she had retched into the grass, terrified and disgusted. When his eyes meet hers, there is flinty steel to be found in mismatched irises. “Never. Phoebe said it’s usually only post-birth, and in less severe cases eventually goes away naturally. But if it does - I expect you to put me down like a dog if I ever become a threat to our children.” Simple and unaffected in tone, accepting of this axe she holds to her own nape. Death would be a better fate to Hotaru than harming her own babies.
In a slightly more vulnerable twist of emotion, she drops her forehead to his shoulder and exhales slowly. “It was horrible. But I couldn’t be happier that you kept them safe. How are they?”
you are magic given physical form
Hotaru
