I'll keep breaking my own heart, finding ways to make it out
I'm still not what I wanna be, what more do you want from me?
I'm still not what I wanna be, what more do you want from me?
Harper laughs softly as she corrects him in turn mere moments later, chest ballooning with affection and relief that things did not get misconstrued or hurt one of them the way they had in the past. “If this is any indication, I have no issue coming to you with concerns.” And hopefully he never would. Hopefully he would always approach any rifts or bumps with this same level of control and open-mindedness. Only time would tell, but Harper was hopeful for that future.
The gentle kiss she presses to his knuckles makes his breath catch, the embers in his heart licking high against his breastbone with warmth he can’t let distract him. He is loathe to compare them, but moments like these remind him that Maeve is far more flexible than Phoebe when it comes to gender roles, even in small ways such as this. It is the last little push he needs to half-shift one of his talons into existence, easily pricking his thumb with the sharp end of it until a crimson bead of blood surfaces. Without another word he presses his thumb to the gem, linking it to him forever. Sucking the blood off his finger, completely unbothered and single-minded, Harper takes the ring and Maeve’s hand which is already in his own and gently slides it onto her finger. And then he opens the Attuned bond.
Like a slow-moving, wide river, his emotions are there to wash over her. Love, surety, safety, loyalty. There is no faking or creating false emotions for her to experience. There is only the dizzying depths of his affection for her, ready for her to fall into. Can you hear me Mae-bell? he whispers in his mind, sea glass eyes unblinkingly fixed on hers.
The gentle kiss she presses to his knuckles makes his breath catch, the embers in his heart licking high against his breastbone with warmth he can’t let distract him. He is loathe to compare them, but moments like these remind him that Maeve is far more flexible than Phoebe when it comes to gender roles, even in small ways such as this. It is the last little push he needs to half-shift one of his talons into existence, easily pricking his thumb with the sharp end of it until a crimson bead of blood surfaces. Without another word he presses his thumb to the gem, linking it to him forever. Sucking the blood off his finger, completely unbothered and single-minded, Harper takes the ring and Maeve’s hand which is already in his own and gently slides it onto her finger. And then he opens the Attuned bond.
Like a slow-moving, wide river, his emotions are there to wash over her. Love, surety, safety, loyalty. There is no faking or creating false emotions for her to experience. There is only the dizzying depths of his affection for her, ready for her to fall into. Can you hear me Mae-bell? he whispers in his mind, sea glass eyes unblinkingly fixed on hers.
