Lost Creek Hollow Butterflyfish

I'm so sorry to make you wait on this reply and I'm sorry it's not... great. I had a health scare during the end of last week and konked my head really hard. Made me feel like I had time-traveled. I didn't want to leave you waiting, though. <3 ;w;

Did he remember?

Crowfeather might have laughed if the moment hadn’t felt so surreal. He remembered it all. The memories of their time spent together lived in his mind as a constant reminder for why he could not love another, for why he could not give Silvertongue what she so deserved.

Even standing there, overwhelmed with the silver eagle’s words, Crowfeather felt guilty.

If this was merely a dream, he must wish for it to continue for eternity. He could not release this feeling. He could not know the warmth of this love and then abandon it.

Oh, Germanicus…

I loved you before I knew…

Childish glee erupted within the shadow’s belly.

Once, he had thought that he would follow Germanicus anywhere. He would trek across the harshest snows and hottest deserts, if only it meant that he would bask in the brilliance of the other man. How had he given up so easily? Shame replaced his glee.

The touch of his kisses was like a speckling of sunlight. It glittered across his throat and held his breath. Did Germanicus know what he did to the dark three-legged man? Did he know how his voice, how his eyes, how the breath from his lips was like kindling added to the fire?

I remember it all, he said breathlessly. I planned to carry your memory in my heart… forever.

He did not want to tell the man that he had been smitten by him from the start. He did not want to tell him how he had struggled with his decision to leave. It was difficult. Time had showed him that the pain it took to stay would have been greater than the pain it took to go.

Crowfeather thought he finally understood the saying ‘like a moth to a flame.’ He was the moth. His heart fluttered like paper-thin wings. And Germanicus was the flame; incendiary, scorching the shadow’s soul. He inhaled so heavily, like he’d been holding his breath underwater. He pressed his lips against Crowfeather’s throat. The shadow followed and pressed against him. Their bodies seemed to be dancing – shadow and stone. Perhaps Crowfeather was wrong… He wasn’t a moth. He was Icarus. And he had flown too close to the sun.

Germanicus, he spoke the man’s name as though it would be the last time. What does this mean? For- For you? For us.