[Laughter. What a stupid thing it is to feel marrow-deep relief at the right sound to close out the ritual of their courtship, just like the first time, in fact: both of them bleeding, sliced open, bruised and caked in so much dust— misery flocking them like a hound, or at the very least a looming threat of still more agony to come. More pain they can't escape, more anguish. What are they if not broken, homeless, pointless things? What are they if not waiting on the leash for that strong hand across their shoulders, pushing them back into their place? The world is too wide, too dangerous, too complex. They'll never make it. They weren't meant to.
Cut clean through with a set of daggers and one reckless bout of laughter— enough to make the whole world shift back into sunlight. (The wings are only wax if you fall, and gods above, the only thing they fell into was this.)
Three years, he mouths out loosely; a puff of cool, false breath sliding over Leto's cheek in place of the fingers that he can't— not for the moment, at least— remove from their triaging efforts in order to smooth across arch features the way he'd like.
He really should brush up on his cantrips. Another set of hands could have its uses.]
I don't think I've ever been thanked for stabbing someone before. [Mild, particularly when one oversharp pair of canines pull at tender lips, kissing like punctuation. Like gratitude. Like contentment, raw and unrefined.]
no subject
Cut clean through with a set of daggers and one reckless bout of laughter— enough to make the whole world shift back into sunlight. (The wings are only wax if you fall, and gods above, the only thing they fell into was this.)
Three years, he mouths out loosely; a puff of cool, false breath sliding over Leto's cheek in place of the fingers that he can't— not for the moment, at least— remove from their triaging efforts in order to smooth across arch features the way he'd like.
He really should brush up on his cantrips. Another set of hands could have its uses.]
I don't think I've ever been thanked for stabbing someone before. [Mild, particularly when one oversharp pair of canines pull at tender lips, kissing like punctuation. Like gratitude. Like contentment, raw and unrefined.]