{se} you got that sugar in your voice

DEIMOS

the resurrected sword

Concern, trepidation, and apprehension unfortunately unfurled from lifetimes of losses. Burdens came later, when he was readily tossed aside time after time by those he’d trusted – and had come to meander along the lines of wondering his worth for eternities. Melded together during healing processes and mending revolutions, it still stuck to his throat every now and again, like a barb, like a vice, like a snare. Perhaps the only difference was now he gave it a voice, instead of trying to swallow it down – only to meet her forthcoming reply.

His eyes widened again, an immeasurable relief flaring amidst the blue. Perhaps a light blush along the tip of his nose or a dusting along his cheeks; infinite gratitude and love and liberation all in a glance. “Thank you,” even with the anecdote of his stubborn nature.

Burdens lifted from his shoulders, he consumed portions of the meal with his usual gusto; content with the salmon as he cut more portions of it, listening at the considerations. His fork stilled for a moment at the suggestion, only because next week seemed very close and his mind was already mentally checking off the rampant, and growing, list of things to do – at least in the barracks, or his incoming projects. It was an initial balking that he had to breathe through, and then cast aside, nodding. “Okay. We can make it work.”

under the bludgeonings of chance
my head is bloody, but unbowed