I don't want to steal your freedom
you don't have to change your mind
Harper merely hums his understanding when her hand comes up to grip at his shirt. "Okay. I'll be here; I promise." Whether he slips out before she wakes or they part ways awkwardly in the morning won't matter; he'll accompany her through her dreams, give her someone to reach for across the bedsheets if she finds herself lost and lonely. It will have to be enough.
Chuckling dryly as she quietly sings back, Harper lets his head fall sideways onto the pillow beneath him. "You sure you're not the singer here?" It's cheeky, but her voice is lovely, if quiet. He takes the reprimand for what it is - or at least how it feels - and switches gears to songs that reveal just as much, but which feel more personal, less pointed.
"It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest, with this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful." And though he knows the stanzas will become muddled and may leave her feeling like he hasn't given her the reprieve she has asked for, the emotion in his voice is too heavy with grief to be borne from anything so recent. "There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders..." He trails off, biting his lip in the dark and realizing he is perhaps being cruel of his own accord.
Harper switches entirely, focusing on something ethereal and vague, even if his heart isn't in it. He needs to get her to sleep. He can't keep focusing on himself - even if that is what this entire journey of isolation and self-indulgence has been about since abdicating. For once, he has to curb his own pettiness and return back to that prior headspace of prioritizing other people. For her - who has never hurt him - he can do that much. "I want to stand on the edge of the water and see horizons stretch on forever. I want to know that there are lands not yet touched by human hands - I want to be the one to find them." Perhaps she'll envision lovely forests and enchanting animals, and it will lure her into the dark of slumber better than words best left unspoken.
Chuckling dryly as she quietly sings back, Harper lets his head fall sideways onto the pillow beneath him. "You sure you're not the singer here?" It's cheeky, but her voice is lovely, if quiet. He takes the reprimand for what it is - or at least how it feels - and switches gears to songs that reveal just as much, but which feel more personal, less pointed.
"It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest, with this heart of mine that's guilty, not remorseful." And though he knows the stanzas will become muddled and may leave her feeling like he hasn't given her the reprieve she has asked for, the emotion in his voice is too heavy with grief to be borne from anything so recent. "There is love that doesn't have a place to rest, but it would have buried you if it had settled on your shoulders..." He trails off, biting his lip in the dark and realizing he is perhaps being cruel of his own accord.
Harper switches entirely, focusing on something ethereal and vague, even if his heart isn't in it. He needs to get her to sleep. He can't keep focusing on himself - even if that is what this entire journey of isolation and self-indulgence has been about since abdicating. For once, he has to curb his own pettiness and return back to that prior headspace of prioritizing other people. For her - who has never hurt him - he can do that much. "I want to stand on the edge of the water and see horizons stretch on forever. I want to know that there are lands not yet touched by human hands - I want to be the one to find them." Perhaps she'll envision lovely forests and enchanting animals, and it will lure her into the dark of slumber better than words best left unspoken.
I just want to make you love me
so please let me take my time
HARPER
