{ @frorewintr. ♡ ━━  *

█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ     HIS RANCOR HEART skips a beat, skips rhythms at the kisses that were bestowed on him —– &&. it was nearly dizzying. It left him a glow within his thorax like a starlight that bridges the edges of infinity, succeeding physicality until only its fluttering sensation remains. God, he feels as though he may BURST apart at the seams.

 ( …. as though the heart he was born with is no longer his to KEEP.* )

And Gray cannot hold the weight of such an expression without burning. Without his cheeks splitting open at the radiance of his SMILE, the rare happiness which crinkles its edges — &&. for the first time, it was without the very feel of vulnerability enshrouding him.

                  The room is SPINNING; coalescing into colors and shapes and then suddenly, he had no recollection of the world but Lyon. His grasp dropped to the waistband of his boyfriend’s trousers &&. his long digits curled possessively around prone belt loops. Gray yanked Lyon towards him in provocation, staring into the cornflower eyes fondly beneath the layers of unruly midnight fridges.

His smile never falter.

                                 ❛ ---- Tch. ❜

          IDENTICAL NUANCES OF FIRE OPAL HURLED A GLANCE AT HIS SURROUNDINGS. Several individuals that wield supernatural prowess had made an AMBUSH. Seemingly, they belonged in an underground Guild; such act of COWARDICE indicates it. Whilst it was nothing commendable to write a book about, it still managed to catch the lightning user off guard.

          And he wasn’t alone. Apparently, another mage of different affiliation was CAUGHT in this spectacle, joining unwillingly perhaps. Either way, the two of them had to JOIN FORCES and emerge as the conquerors of this conflict.

✰ // NOT ACCEPTING ━━━━━━ ( @frorewintr​ )

The finger he’d been dragging over the bicep and the muscle lines of Lyon’s right arm comes to a freezing halt quite suddenly; slowly, the Heavenly Body mage rips his eyes away from the man’s skin to meet the cornflower blue of his gaze.

    “ ------ Does it ?”                         ( how strange )

The memory of the words ring in his ears --- and he ponders their meaning all the while letting his vision wander all over the wizard’s form; studying every inch of his face --- from the angle of his neck to the paleness of his skin, the ivory shade harbored by the wisps of hair hanging from his scalp and the scars scattered along his skin, forever denting the flesh. He dares not to move his fingers again, even if he desires so.

Instead, Jellal observes.

      ------ and flashes a small smile.

     “For me...” the sentence starts in a whisper that gets only barely louder as his voiced thoughts progress, “...I believe it to be the contrary.” He moves his am and shifts his position to prop himself up on his elbow, leaning against his palm. The other hand --- the one he’d previously let dance upon the other mage’s arm, finds a resting place upon his pectoral ( just above the navy guildmark of Lamia Scale ) --- and he inhales. A small intake of air --- quiet, but loud enough for Lyon to have noticed it.

             ❆ █  ▌▌ 𝕄𝕪  𝕚𝕔𝕖  𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤   ( 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅 )  ࿐ᐤ                  【  𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐸𝒮  】⇢  not accepting.

     { @frorewintr. ♡ ━━  *

█▐ ❆ ࿐ᐤ    IT WAS ALL in the subtle shifts that played around him. The small way his world seemed to fall apart in fragments that were his anguished memories. His soul lived on, battered;  but his mind S H A T T E R E D —– forced into a degradation that everything was entirely his fault. 

                And so, he had broken his own heart. Had fractured it, froze it … because everything left to the COLD was not preserved – ice ate away at the matter, too. Eventually, even his world would DIE were it to be encased in a frigid prison for far too long. All of his perceived denials &&. honeyed milk falsehoods were signed away by this frozen-fire. 

And sometimes, his weary eyes wish to burn with the force of his AGONY;  his hands wish to tremble with the spreading of oblivion that superseding his every thought – wishes to scream. cry. BREAK. Wishes to allow the darkness within his mind, the smoke which clouds his heart, to push his soul to the EDGE, to obliterate him entirely…

until he was naught but all sharp shards of glass &&. a badly sewn together heart.

And never did he ever see his b r o k e n n e s s              ——- as something beautiful.

as something      worth to be called a LIGHT.*

Until Lyon.

❛❛…❜❜

            GRAY FEELS THE crisp edges of his lips twitching down, liquid welling within his eyes as he grinds his teeth in order to stifle his reaction under control. Yet, he knows he cannot shield —- for Lyon’s voice have already SETTLED within him, permeated all he is. Instead, a noise escapes him at those gentle words —– a pitiful hiccup sound that coils in the back of his throat &&. exudes throughout the open air. 

…. a lapse in the SELF-CONTROL he has so meticulously built. 

It is overwhelming, the realization that befalls him;  it trickles into his very bones like wet rot. A realization that his pieces are ever worth to be called as something of beauty. To be seen as fragments of LIGHT.

—– But Lyon takes all of his aching fragments &&. kisses each and every one of them;  he takes the most damaged part of Gray’s SOUL and shows him how they still shine. 

            With a fluttering heart &&. tears skulked eyes, Gray nuzzles into his lover’s palm – taking comfort in their acquired warmth. He thinks about how his mother used to curl up close and stroke his hair, whispering Isvan lullabies until his restful slumber. To him, Lyon becomes the HOME that he once cannot return to. Gray is consumed by his gentle love;  by all that he IS beside him, around him, encompassing him —– making him almost SOB at the words that he catches within open palms and presses to his heart for eternity…

    ❛❛ Stop that … just stop it. ❜❜

As Gray presses his cold lips to Lyon’s own softly, gently, thinning wings upon brittle skin. His coarse hand comes to slide up from Lyon’s bareback to card through his silvery hair, fingertips catching on the white wisps &&. twirling them into patterns that resemble their HEARTBEATS.

         …And it is startling, completely IRRATIONAL how easily Lyon’s voice calms him —— how it shifts him from despair to solace in mere seconds;  how he wants to come undone into this cold touch &&. weep upon the palm--

 which holds his very heart.*

- - - - - -  HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY !!

@frorewintr / @mareanguiis / @ashenwintr

Did you guys think I forgot ? HAHA no i’ve just been suffering drawing this 3-in-1 piece !!  I’m late on the schedule, so I apologize profusely for that --- but better late than never, right ?

[ SOME BABBLING UNDER THE CUT !! ]