Harper
I was born in a big gray cloud screaming out a love song
He muffles his laughter into her hair, always happy to do chores but aware that she's right - he loves the market, loves seeing the people, getting his boots on the ground, and feeling the pulse of Torchline's life firsthand. "I'd object, but you're completely right." She knows him too well, always has.
Her joy is like warm sparks on his skin, sending goosebumps in their wake, and Harper grins as his own affection rises to meet it. The ring was one of the greatest gifts she could have given him, and being able to feel her through the bond will never grow old for him. "I don't know, but I ask myself that every day." Realistically they have both suffered so greatly, in love particularly, that perhaps this is fate's way of giving them a break.
Leaning his head willingly into her touch, a low rumble of appreciation reverberates from his chest to her back as her nails scratch at his scalp and spread through his curls, making his eyes drift low. Still, they remain open enough to see her love be shadowed by her concern, and he squeezes her slightly to try and assuage her fears. "Speaking of Edmund," he begins gently, "I was thinking how long it has been since I went to see Safrin. I intend to ask her if he's okay while I'm there." Hopefully the goddess would abide such a request, if she had any answers at all. Harper has long regretted the lack of time he has found on his hands to visit his herald. With the new season, perhaps that could finally change.
Her joy is like warm sparks on his skin, sending goosebumps in their wake, and Harper grins as his own affection rises to meet it. The ring was one of the greatest gifts she could have given him, and being able to feel her through the bond will never grow old for him. "I don't know, but I ask myself that every day." Realistically they have both suffered so greatly, in love particularly, that perhaps this is fate's way of giving them a break.
Leaning his head willingly into her touch, a low rumble of appreciation reverberates from his chest to her back as her nails scratch at his scalp and spread through his curls, making his eyes drift low. Still, they remain open enough to see her love be shadowed by her concern, and he squeezes her slightly to try and assuage her fears. "Speaking of Edmund," he begins gently, "I was thinking how long it has been since I went to see Safrin. I intend to ask her if he's okay while I'm there." Hopefully the goddess would abide such a request, if she had any answers at all. Harper has long regretted the lack of time he has found on his hands to visit his herald. With the new season, perhaps that could finally change.
among broken chords and unnamed cries -
what a place to come from
what a place to come from
