{se} you know I’m not a saint

DEIMOS

the ocean does not apologize for its depth
and the mountains do not seek forgiveness

Offering refuge was an instinctual, inherent practice; done without fail for those who needed it. He’d never begrudge the Evergreen her moments of sanctum and sanctuary, just as he presumed she’d do the same for him. Moments of peace were fleeting; grasping it with both hands sometimes a necessity, and with these ridiculous blows, comfort was readily granted. At her shrug he could only grant a small smile, like an indulgence into the minds of capricious, mercurial fools. “Misplaced defensiveness, then.” Deimos didn’t require protection from Evie. From his own faults and flaws, perhaps, but he doubted anyone besides himself were capable of that. “His insinuations were wounding to me as well.” He shrugged his shoulders too – for the uncertainty of where their friendship lingered teetered and stumbled.

Another breath loosened from his chest, as if given free reign from tethers and shackles. “If I heard an apology…,” things could be different, not so altered, not so maimed. But at this point, the Sword wouldn’t be seeking the youth out. “Any undermining to our friendship was by his actions.”

The small grin reappeared, with a vague tilt to his head, fire incantations seeking to warm the food before it grew cold again, casting a joke into the air to see where it resonated. “There. Have I sufficiently ruined your morning?”

for the space they take
and so, neither shall I