DEIMOS
the fire can't touch me
for I have burned too many times
for I have burned too many times
“Should be easy to find,” he commented, maybe by way of distraction, mind coiling in too many different directions. The offer of simply making her some contorted across his tongue, but predicting the answer already, he allowed it to dissipate back into their mutual silence – waiting for the other to strike, the rising tension in closing moments, in foreshadowed, fortuitous designs. If he felt like he was continually holding his breath, he made no comment about it; lungs still forging onward while provocation stirred in veins.
The rumble beneath the soles of his feet was enough of a warning that the game wasn’t over, and the control of the earth pummeled through his frame effortlessly; ceasing and stopping her efforts. With a sly grin, as if he were turning them over and chiseling beneath the stones themselves, he sent the volley ricocheting back to her. To tease or torment, to rise or fall or stumble along the makeshift wake.
The rumble beneath the soles of his feet was enough of a warning that the game wasn’t over, and the control of the earth pummeled through his frame effortlessly; ceasing and stopping her efforts. With a sly grin, as if he were turning them over and chiseling beneath the stones themselves, he sent the volley ricocheting back to her. To tease or torment, to rise or fall or stumble along the makeshift wake.
the sea can't harm me
for I have been drowning all my life
for I have been drowning all my life
