How do I keep myself from fallin' apart when I ain't never felt part of a whole?
She is not so easily distracted - though it’s not the right sentiment, aware he is hiding from her in the ways he knows how. He has the upper hand here, if they are to compare each other at all, and she is wrong-footed and lost without him.
He doesn’t visibly shrink, and yet she can feel it somehow, like when Remi had shown her how he could mute his own side of the bond the first time she’d shifted. Shrinking, dwindling, until her paws ache with the desire to become human hands with which to reach for him. It’s ironic then that he hasn’t moved an inch. The snow between them feels vast and filled with mockery of days of olde twisted and cast in blackened shadows.
They’re well. As if nothing ever happened. Which is a relief unto itself. Hotaru would spare them that formative memory if she could. Though she laughs bitterly at his next words, heart aching with love for this foolish, self-sacrificing man. The feline drops down into her belly on the snow, chin cradled on large paws. Sinking into earth and ice. It is not your job to fix me. To fix this. It was a wound neither of us had ever encountered anyway. You cannot keep giving. Even for me. And there is nothing to fix. Only more to bear.
Remi I have already talked. Your place in the twins’ lives is not in question - whatever happened when you spoke, he seems willing to let it go so long as they remain safe. Just as I feel with Ronin. Not that she and Deimos at all mirror the relationship between those two. Or perhaps they do, romantic inclinations aside. Hotaru tries hard to keep her emotions from spilling over - to become a void on the other end of the tether. It’s hard when this shape and manner of speech is still so new to her, but she doesn’t want to make anything worse for the man. Noah and the others - they’re okay? She still hasn’t seen them with her own eyes.
Nobody had come to look for her aside from Deimos. It’s a thought that has been keeping her up at night, and she isn’t willing to let Deimos feel how it breaks her heart.
He doesn’t visibly shrink, and yet she can feel it somehow, like when Remi had shown her how he could mute his own side of the bond the first time she’d shifted. Shrinking, dwindling, until her paws ache with the desire to become human hands with which to reach for him. It’s ironic then that he hasn’t moved an inch. The snow between them feels vast and filled with mockery of days of olde twisted and cast in blackened shadows.
They’re well. As if nothing ever happened. Which is a relief unto itself. Hotaru would spare them that formative memory if she could. Though she laughs bitterly at his next words, heart aching with love for this foolish, self-sacrificing man. The feline drops down into her belly on the snow, chin cradled on large paws. Sinking into earth and ice. It is not your job to fix me. To fix this. It was a wound neither of us had ever encountered anyway. You cannot keep giving. Even for me. And there is nothing to fix. Only more to bear.
Remi I have already talked. Your place in the twins’ lives is not in question - whatever happened when you spoke, he seems willing to let it go so long as they remain safe. Just as I feel with Ronin. Not that she and Deimos at all mirror the relationship between those two. Or perhaps they do, romantic inclinations aside. Hotaru tries hard to keep her emotions from spilling over - to become a void on the other end of the tether. It’s hard when this shape and manner of speech is still so new to her, but she doesn’t want to make anything worse for the man. Noah and the others - they’re okay? She still hasn’t seen them with her own eyes.
Nobody had come to look for her aside from Deimos. It’s a thought that has been keeping her up at night, and she isn’t willing to let Deimos feel how it breaks her heart.
HOTARU
