we are just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty
It’s a depressing topic, and already there is enough to grieve. Enough loss and futility to contend with. So instead Ophelia lets his words go unanswered and continues to fiddle with his fingers, splayed and loose between them. Tracing lines in his palm that no longer have purpose in their Ascension, wondering what traits they would signify now if a medium deigned to ascribe meaning to them. They cannot die natural deaths after all, nor bear children. Perhaps an inclination for specific blood types? ‘This line here means you prefer O-.’ Ophelia snorts aloud to themself at the idea.
As he lifts his head and smiles, Ophelia lifts a hand to cup his cheek, full of the same love they always feel in overwhelming measure for this struggling little family they have found. Always needing to touch and share physically that which they never had growing up. “You are very handsome, Amun. Gloominess does not suit you. It suits Wessex, which is a shame, but I’m sure we can throw a party grand enough to make that frown take a vacation.” The gentle ribbing makes them grin, hand falling away with a little laugh.
As he lifts his head and smiles, Ophelia lifts a hand to cup his cheek, full of the same love they always feel in overwhelming measure for this struggling little family they have found. Always needing to touch and share physically that which they never had growing up. “You are very handsome, Amun. Gloominess does not suit you. It suits Wessex, which is a shame, but I’m sure we can throw a party grand enough to make that frown take a vacation.” The gentle ribbing makes them grin, hand falling away with a little laugh.
