Under These Monochrome skies

He held steadfast, both in mind and manner, as she went through the motions.

He’s only grateful she didn’t go for the other cheek.

“…” He looked upon her with open curiosity that bordered on wonder, but his thoughts remained under the surface until they finally broke with the breaching of the distance between them as Joshua boldly takes her face in his hands…

“She’s beautiful.” He leans down to plant a kiss on her brow, radiating a sense of warmth and sincerity only a handful of blessed people would ever receive – even if it’s brief, it’s no chance occurrence. “I hope I get to see her again.”

Fear rises as he suddenly closes the distance, and she wishes she could step back, but all she can do is stand still as a statue and try not to panic. 

Then he cups her face and kisses her forehead. 

The world suddenly feels like its very very far away, and the only thing left is them in the emptiness. There’s a voice in her head, angry and bitter and hurt, trying to yell that he’s lying that She is ugly and undeserving but for the moment... she ignores it. 

For the first time in her life she feels seen and the sudden wave of relief that washes over her is enough to bring tears to her eyes, threatening to overspill. She grabs his wrists, holding him in place so his hands are still on her face and just closes her eyes and enjoys the feeling for the moment. 

“You asshole...” 

The insult is quiet, and suddenly she feels very tired and drained. She lets go of him, and tips forwards slowly, resting her head on his chest, her eyes closed. 

Fuck Leche. 

i recently started a new job and my brain has all been wonky before hand because of growing frustration and stagnation. 

but im ognna try and refocus here because i miss you guys. 

Wait, really?

He furrowed his brows and squinted, returning the other’s puzzled expression. “…That’s none of your business. But, hold on. Are you saying it’s possible that you won’t get in any trouble for this? Not even a little—” he made a flicking motion with his fingers— “on the wrist?”

Not that he was that surprised with the notion that murder was actually among the least of the Higher Plane’s concerns, but…

Joshua crossed his arms and started to pace about uneasily. “And,” he paused, still looking ahead of him, but pointing a finger at the other as he did so, “how certain are you of that possibility? That they don’t ‘care enough’, as you so put it?”

“They’ve yet to give me a ‘flick on the wrist’ if that’s what you’re alluding to.”

He gives a heart hearted shrug, wiping blood from his hands onto his pants. He could just make himself clean, or seemingly so, but it doesn’t bother him as much as it seems to bother anyone else. 

He turns his focus back to Joshua as he paces, although he’s listening to the gentle symphony of the city about them more clearly then he could before. 

“I have been doing this for.... a while. And they have yet to stop me. I do wonder if they’re curious about what killing your selves would do to an angel, seraph or not. 

He took a step closer, cocking out his head in a rather bird-like manner.

Joshua was so well acquainted with death and violence that he could refer to both of them by their names alone. No, it wasn’t the gruesome scene before him that had troubled him— he had bore witness to countless scenes like it, even before he learned how to read.

No. It was the potential aftermath. He was not in the mood for another squabble of the Higher Plane variety. Not right now, no thank you.

“What I want,” he gave a long sigh as he pressed his fingers against his temple, “is for you to not make such a mess in my ward.”

“If you must go about—” he gestured loosely at the being— “whatever your business is, can’t you go about it less conspicuously? Or, better yet, why not go about it in a district that hasn’t caught enough attention from Them already?”

It’s actually a first that someone is reprimanding him for doing this instead of just reprimanding him for the very concept of it and he’s so confused and put off that he does turn, mirroring the composer in the head tilt. 

He stands there, barely moving for a long moment almost as if he’d turned to marble, trying to process what was just said. 

     ❝ Oh well, I was given some of these, but I don’t have much a sweet tooth for them. ❞ He replied, hold out a small beg with a couple chocolates bars in it. ❝ So I thought maybe you’d want em. ❞

“Ohhh! Chocolate!” 

Her face lights up and she dashes over, taking the bag from him. She stands on her tip toes to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. 

@leoxcantus​ asked ; ❝ Pixie princess, You around? ❞

Her head pops out from round the backdoor to the storage room as his voice rings out in the shop. She hadn’t heard him even enter but she had been waist deep in a box.