Weaver
So precious is this life, this gift,
this temporary blindness.
this temporary blindness.
Weaver nearly spews the scone this time for real, and her hand flies to her mouth as she sputters a laugh. ”A nice Halovian girl like me?” she says after she swallows, still laughing at that notion. ”I carry a scythe. I am highly likely to pick a fight because it’s fun. I am one of the least lady-like ladies you will ever meet. A nice girl?” She snickers some more. Though of course, she was exactly what she needed to be to survive Halo. Most of the men here didn’t mind a girl who knew how to wield a weapon or throw a punch. They certainly didn’t expect their women to wear dresses.
He mentions that him and Sam are no longer a thing. Well, that was perhaps shorter than expected. Thankfully, he doesn’t sound too upset about it. Sad, sure, but who wouldn’t be a little bit? ”Ah, I am sorry it didn’t work out,” she says, and she does mean it. ”Though I admit, I am perhaps not as sorry as I should be.” She also means that.
He turns, though she stays perched on the countertop, largely useless. A child in a candy shop, really. ”It seems to me you don’t want to spiral again, and so you won’t. A little booze does work wonders though.”
Weaver just laughs at that. ”We will need all the help we can get.” Suddenly, she realizes they are talking about Korbin like his parents might. It would feel weird, except she often talks about Korbin as Straia might have, and rather than find it weird that Loren is chiming in, she is thankful for the help. Thankful that Korbin may actually have another man in his life. He certainly needed it.
He comes to sit beside her, and she nudges him slightly. ”Your bullshit is easy. And mostly I’m just afraid of what happens if I die. If their father dies. I know that story, and it sucks. But I also know that’s not much of a way to live, afraid of what could happen.” One hand fidgets with the hilt of a knife as she talks, though there is something sad in her voice.
He mentions that him and Sam are no longer a thing. Well, that was perhaps shorter than expected. Thankfully, he doesn’t sound too upset about it. Sad, sure, but who wouldn’t be a little bit? ”Ah, I am sorry it didn’t work out,” she says, and she does mean it. ”Though I admit, I am perhaps not as sorry as I should be.” She also means that.
He turns, though she stays perched on the countertop, largely useless. A child in a candy shop, really. ”It seems to me you don’t want to spiral again, and so you won’t. A little booze does work wonders though.”
Weaver just laughs at that. ”We will need all the help we can get.” Suddenly, she realizes they are talking about Korbin like his parents might. It would feel weird, except she often talks about Korbin as Straia might have, and rather than find it weird that Loren is chiming in, she is thankful for the help. Thankful that Korbin may actually have another man in his life. He certainly needed it.
He comes to sit beside her, and she nudges him slightly. ”Your bullshit is easy. And mostly I’m just afraid of what happens if I die. If their father dies. I know that story, and it sucks. But I also know that’s not much of a way to live, afraid of what could happen.” One hand fidgets with the hilt of a knife as she talks, though there is something sad in her voice.
Burn and drown and embrace the false dark,
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
then grasp the unthinkable height of resulting joy.
