Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
The sound of Loren’s voice, the concern there, melts her heart slightly. As if she needed him to melt it more. Yet, like usual, she finds herself surprised by him. She shouldn’t be, because it is not surprising to know he cares about someone. He loved deeply, she suspected, given how deeply he hurt. She’d seen that firsthand a few times, and she knows it to be true. Still, it surprises her all the same to hear the concern for her brother, and she isn’t sure what to do with that surprise.
”Can’t,” she says with a sing-song in her voice. It’s true enough. She knows who they are, and she could technically utter the names. But that is against the rules, it is something she cannot do if she wants to retain their trust. And even if she is to serve as Halo’s Spymaster, it is in their best interest that she stays in the guild’s good graces. More information to be had if she can run in different circles.
Her grin widens as he catches the scone for her, and her hand darts out to snag it from the air. ”I knew you liked me,” she teases, taking a bite of the scone with some obvious delight. ”Mmm,” she says, taking a moment to chew even if that seems vaguely overrated. ”You might give the chefs a run for their money. That is delicious.” She breaks off a piece and offers it to him while taking another bite for herself. Not that he couldn’t just take his own, but it seems polite to offer.
Weaver chuckles, mouth still slightly full, but she has always lacked manners. Or simply doesn’t care for them, but either way. ”Because if it weren’t, it would be dreadfully boring.”
”Can’t,” she says with a sing-song in her voice. It’s true enough. She knows who they are, and she could technically utter the names. But that is against the rules, it is something she cannot do if she wants to retain their trust. And even if she is to serve as Halo’s Spymaster, it is in their best interest that she stays in the guild’s good graces. More information to be had if she can run in different circles.
Her grin widens as he catches the scone for her, and her hand darts out to snag it from the air. ”I knew you liked me,” she teases, taking a bite of the scone with some obvious delight. ”Mmm,” she says, taking a moment to chew even if that seems vaguely overrated. ”You might give the chefs a run for their money. That is delicious.” She breaks off a piece and offers it to him while taking another bite for herself. Not that he couldn’t just take his own, but it seems polite to offer.
Weaver chuckles, mouth still slightly full, but she has always lacked manners. Or simply doesn’t care for them, but either way. ”Because if it weren’t, it would be dreadfully boring.”
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
