#archonlines

               HE CANNOT REMEMBER HOW HE FELL ASLEEP, only that he must have been very weary. when he wakes, it is to the solid, warm weight of soil atop him, and the curl of a great tree’s roots around him. zeno coughs, no doubt dislodging a solid serving of dirt from his lungs, and attempts to stretch. his head breaches the earth first, and for a brief moment, he is blinded by sunlight and taken with the gentle breeze all at once.

                 THEN, OF COURSE, HE NOTICES THE GIRL. damn. ❛ hello, little miss, ❜ he chirps, despite the profound oddity of the situation. it’s not everyday someone’s head pokes up from the ground and greets you with at least a decade’s worth of rust in their voice. ❛ could you, uh, give zeno a hand? ❜

instinct  is  to  argue,  the  words  sitting  at  the  tip  of  his  tongue,  but  he  bites  them  back.  her  resolve  is  written  across  her  face,  and  he  knows  better  than  to  go  against  her    (  even  atlas  could  not  bear  the  weight  of  the  world  forever  /  even  gods  are  allowed  repose  )    it’s  with  reluctance  that  he  lowers  himself,  fingers  slowly  travelling  towards  the  polearm  that  rests  not  far  from  him,  and  when  he  speaks,  his  eyes  fall  to  a  close.     ❝  you  don’t  have  to  worry  about  me.  ❞

﹙      @archonlines​     :    klee      ﹚   ︰        «      𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥      »

❛❛       ...   and   who   —      ❜❜              scrutiny sits above   furrowed brows,      delicate forehead crinkled in the manner of one who is beholden to something that will   cause great weariness   in the immediate near future.          (      prayer upon prayer:      that the confectionary thusly presented to him,      with all the   gleeful happiness   that is characteristic to her,      is not   filled with her usual...      explosive nature.      )

❛❛      —    exactly   are you planning on   giving   this chocolate to?      ❜❜