Two Eyes Cenote i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired

he does not speak further. he stills his breath and quiets his mind to anything but the feel of her hand on his arm, the lean of her against his chest, the shiver of her sigh against his fur, fanning across his flesh.

and despite his brave words, there is an ache in his chest as he observes the knowledge that this might be the only time he gets to hold her. like this. or ever.

but he has said his peace and she knows his heart and now he lets his fate, whatever it may be and what it might bring to him, to the Gods and the cosmos.

a brief moment that feels stolen; but would be coveted like a precious secret he dare never part with.

you deserve to be happy, eset. you deserve everything you want and more, murmurs meseba, breaking his silence. and i hope you find it. truly.