Neron
the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen
longing to be seen
Here they both are, each failing to notice the more importance nuances about the other, and that is the shit that dreams are made of, if you ask Neron. (Or, well, it's what dreams are made of if your dream is to hook up with someone with no strings attached, so you know... same thing). "Good luck to them," he remarks of the shrine and those attempting to tear it down. It's safe to say there is absolutely no love lost between he and the Eirachi.
"That is so," he confirms with a smirk, and the tilt of his chin suggests that perhaps he really can hear her pulse flickering beneath her skin. Oh, but then Flora goes and ruins it by mentioning the blemish on his face, and he subtly turns his head the other way. "Yes and no," he murmurs. "I am quite certain I did stare death in the face, but I cannot prove it. Ludo's demigod has sharp claws and a bad temper."
"That is so," he confirms with a smirk, and the tilt of his chin suggests that perhaps he really can hear her pulse flickering beneath her skin. Oh, but then Flora goes and ruins it by mentioning the blemish on his face, and he subtly turns his head the other way. "Yes and no," he murmurs. "I am quite certain I did stare death in the face, but I cannot prove it. Ludo's demigod has sharp claws and a bad temper."
sometimes the soul
has days like these
has days like these
