Little Goat Mountain morgendlich

mahler had always been forward and sudden. 
he appreciated it when he as younger too, because it saved them time.
now it dared to cave him in.
even if he could understand his german had been lost him now. he couldn't make a sound. astraeus inched, threatening to lay seige the ramparts between them now, in exchange for no more words.
gingerly sliding his chin over his vater's shoulder, he pressed the side of his temple to his neck and wept wordlessly. only the shudder of his back and warm tears on mahler's skin would let him know.
because he still needed his vater. mahler still needed to do what a vater should.