ꜱᴘɪʟᴛ ɪɴᴋ ;; ꜱᴘɪʟᴛ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

reaping  claws  cling  to  the  eminent  scythe ,  occupying  her  prosthetic  ,  her  false  hand  ,  leaving  only  cool  flesh  available  for  the  prince  to  touch  .  she  allows  it  ,  though  her  fingers  tremble  ever  so  slightly  ,  uncertain  if  she  should  remove  herself  ,  cut  herself  off  from  joy  so  as  to  maintain  a  professional  look  .  and  yet  ,  nothing  about  this  is  professional  .

what  if  he  only  reaches  out  to  her  in  sympathy  ?  what  if  he  does  not  feel  the  same  ?

for  all  zagreus  is  open  regarding  his  emotional  responses  ,  he  is  also  unfailingly  polite  .  to  let  her  save  face  at  this  time is  something  he  would  do  .  her  fingers  flinch  ,  in  part  because  his  touch  is  a  brand  ,  BURNING  with  life  that  makes  her  fangs  ache  and  throat  dry  .

she  is  floating  ,  as  she  usually  does  .  it  brings  her  to  the  taller  god’s  eye  level  ,  though  she  is  still  prepared  to  hide  and  teleport  if  she  must  .  her  hood  only  partially  obscures  the  tension  in  her  aureate  eyes  ,  long  silvered  hair  beginning  to  lift  from  her  shoulders  in  uncertainty  ,  slight  duress.

❛  zagreus  ,  ❜  she  whispers  in  return  ,  her  soft  pronouncement  of  his  name  curling  between  them  like  ghosts  . 

she  would  be  the  first  to  admit  that  she  has  no  idea  what  she’s  doing  .  the  power  balance  between  her  and  zagreus  is  stacked  in  both  directions  ,  rendering  them  near  equals  .  the  easy  thing,  to  have  either  assert  control  of  the  situation  ,  feels  too  far  away  to  even  consider  .  this  is  a fucking  mess  ,  and  that’s  why  thanatos  tried  so  hard  to  keep  it  to  herself  .

she  just  can’t  ,  anymore  . 

(  oh  ,  there’s  so  much  they  need  to  discuss  .  there’s  so  much  he  doesn’t  know  ,  even  still  ;  so  much  he  doesn’t  understand  about  her  .  she  thinks  she  could  be  patient  enough  to  explain  .  she  thinks  she  could  do  it  .  )

zagreus  normally  is  the  verbose  one  ,  and  so  while  she’s  unaccustomed  to  saying  more  than  he  ,  now  words  especially  have  failed  her  . 

his  touch  burns  around  her  fingers  . 

she  likes  it  .

she floats before him, but he’s the one who feels weightless. he had no explanation for the weight that sat like a rock in his stomach until this moment. had no idea what he was holding onto until now. repeated memories of innocent moments playing out in his head suddenly snap into focus. he thought the fondness he felt for her was destined to be known to him alone.

her confession stirs courage within him, tugs at the corner of his mouth, releases whatever restraints he still has in place.

silver tendrils call to him, his free hand moving of its own accord, thumb light in its passes against her cheekbone, the rest of his fingers tentatively finding their place in her hair. he dares to pull her closer, gentle, gentle, in case she changes her mind ( gods, he hopes she won’t change her mind ). whatever doubts try to break through are stifled by the warmth that crawls along him, swallowed by the view before him.

they’d always toed the line, professional and personal, colleague and confidante; is she really ready to cross it for good? he figures he’ll ask as much, perhaps to the detriment of his own heart, but he can’t let the opportunity to see the other side slip away.

“   you’re sure?   ”

heterochromatic gaze studies features that are all too familiar and somehow new. her confession settles onto his skin, cooling the flames that threaten to consume him at any moment. all at once, everything snaps into place.

how many years had they been circling each other, in orbit around one another, but never close enough to touch?

it shouldn't come as a surprise that when they finally make contact, they fall into each other, they implode and brand new stars spring forth, threatening to embed their sparks into the fabric of night herself. gravity tugs at his ankles, gently teasing him with the knowledge it had been harbouring all along. realization upon realization dawns on him, each quickly retracted touch, lingering gaze, and whispered word suddenly making sense.

“ than... ”

✨ KAERA ✨ - a story of divinity just out of reach, the sting of mortal wounds against hardened skin, and the thrill of the ticking clock.