The ruins of the day I've painted with a scar
And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try
And the more I straighten out, the less it wants to try
Maybe it is made for him. Enzo may have never met the gods or their heralds, but he is Remi's son. Vervain's grandson. What is death, to someone like him, but a coming home? It may be early, it may be unexpected. Hell, even undesired, he's not ashamed to admit that - there is still so much life to live, after all. But it's quick, and it's painless, and that's all Enzo could have hoped for.
There are no parting words, no reaching, desperate hands. Nothing, he hopes, for Flora to see on loop in her dreams. Just falling debris, and inevitable silence. He doesn't regret his inability to tell her he loves her one more time.
She already knows. It's a twin thing you see.
He smells sage and soil, and gentle hands touch his cheeks. Before he even opens his eyes he is smiling, tears streaking from closed lids. As they open, there she is. "Nonna," he chokes, hands lifting to cover hers where they stroke away his tears. Her smile is tender and understanding, as it always was in life. "Hello, sweetpea," she murmurs, a chorusing echo to hundreds of other times she'd greeted him in this way. Enzo stands, though he doesn't remember why he wasn't before.
"I'm dead, aren't I?" he asks, hesitant. Not quite fear, but the beginnings of it. Unafraid of the act, but scared of the beyond. Vai's expression softens. "You are. But there's nothing to be afraid of Enzo. We all end, you know that - from the seasonal plants to the oldest crone - but I'm here to show you the way to what's next, hm?" Enzo's laugh is a bark of a thing, wet with tears as he nods against her palm. "You always did," is more of a whine with how tight his throat is.
"And now, I always will." Her certainty is grounding, and he simply breathes in the hold of her hands for a moment, trying to find balance and calm. "I didn't think I would, but I feel regretful," Enzo admits softly, lifting his eyes to Vai's almost shamefully. There is no judgment there however, only that warm maternal love that had cradled him from birth to boyhood. "Life wouldn't be beautiful if it wasn't fleeting, sweetpea. And you were most beautiful of all. Now, are you ready?" Patient, eternally so now, and Enzo finds more comfort in that than anything the beyond could offer.
Nodding, he moves forward to embrace her, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm ready."
And they are home.
There are no parting words, no reaching, desperate hands. Nothing, he hopes, for Flora to see on loop in her dreams. Just falling debris, and inevitable silence. He doesn't regret his inability to tell her he loves her one more time.
She already knows. It's a twin thing you see.
He smells sage and soil, and gentle hands touch his cheeks. Before he even opens his eyes he is smiling, tears streaking from closed lids. As they open, there she is. "Nonna," he chokes, hands lifting to cover hers where they stroke away his tears. Her smile is tender and understanding, as it always was in life. "Hello, sweetpea," she murmurs, a chorusing echo to hundreds of other times she'd greeted him in this way. Enzo stands, though he doesn't remember why he wasn't before.
"I'm dead, aren't I?" he asks, hesitant. Not quite fear, but the beginnings of it. Unafraid of the act, but scared of the beyond. Vai's expression softens. "You are. But there's nothing to be afraid of Enzo. We all end, you know that - from the seasonal plants to the oldest crone - but I'm here to show you the way to what's next, hm?" Enzo's laugh is a bark of a thing, wet with tears as he nods against her palm. "You always did," is more of a whine with how tight his throat is.
"And now, I always will." Her certainty is grounding, and he simply breathes in the hold of her hands for a moment, trying to find balance and calm. "I didn't think I would, but I feel regretful," Enzo admits softly, lifting his eyes to Vai's almost shamefully. There is no judgment there however, only that warm maternal love that had cradled him from birth to boyhood. "Life wouldn't be beautiful if it wasn't fleeting, sweetpea. And you were most beautiful of all. Now, are you ready?" Patient, eternally so now, and Enzo finds more comfort in that than anything the beyond could offer.
Nodding, he moves forward to embrace her, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm ready."
And they are home.
The feelings start to rot, one wink at a time
ENZO
