Evie
i'll plant a row of daisy seeds
in the space beneath each eye
in the space beneath each eye
Volcanoes beneath the ocean are an enticing idea, but Evie must put it away to consider at a later date considering their current conversation. Blessedly, Hadama suggests an alternative before Evie is forced to admit that she has not traveled far enough from the Grounds to know viable coastlines upon which to meet him. Her smile is relieved when it comes. “That sounds perfect.” After they’ve set a time (in the wibbly wobbly future) the healer commits the directions to the location to her memory, determined not to need help.
That same tenacity is apparent even beneath the weight of her words and all they imply. Hadama’s solemn gaze lets her know he hears what goes unspoken, and the silence she is met with is the best thing she has heard since returning from the Wilds. Much as she would like to reach out physically in some way, she is too keenly aware of how different their worlds are, and can only vaguely envision what certain gestures maybe horrifically misconstrued as. Instead she lets the food do the talking for her, eagerly drinking in Hadama’s reaction as her teeth bite onto her lower lip in a vain attempt to smother her smile.
“Complementary pre-mixed seasonings. Finely diced garlic, shallots, oregano…” trailing off, she plucks her own mussel but does little more than trace the half-open shell, watching the merman. “Do you like it?”
That same tenacity is apparent even beneath the weight of her words and all they imply. Hadama’s solemn gaze lets her know he hears what goes unspoken, and the silence she is met with is the best thing she has heard since returning from the Wilds. Much as she would like to reach out physically in some way, she is too keenly aware of how different their worlds are, and can only vaguely envision what certain gestures maybe horrifically misconstrued as. Instead she lets the food do the talking for her, eagerly drinking in Hadama’s reaction as her teeth bite onto her lower lip in a vain attempt to smother her smile.
“Complementary pre-mixed seasonings. Finely diced garlic, shallots, oregano…” trailing off, she plucks her own mussel but does little more than trace the half-open shell, watching the merman. “Do you like it?”
so they'll remind you of your beauty
when they bloom each time you cry
when they bloom each time you cry
