#openly weeps

for as long as he's known his rambunctious and hyperactive friend, he's always associated hizashi with starlight. warmth from a thousand chemical reactions that happened inside of him, light bursting forth in kilotons-worth forces of explosions - the emotions that only intensified were just as temperamental and variable as the volatile sun.

but to give its light, the sun had to burn. to live its life, the star had to burn itself out to an explosion. just how much longer? how much longer before the sun could rage in itself before it ate itself from the inside out? how much longer could hizashi hold up a false sense of self before he caved and broke?

hands balled into fists within pockets. raven felt compelled to move, move, move to comfort his friend but feet stay rooted to the ground. and instead, shouta looks at present mic for yamada hizashi, with all the earnest sincerity he could muster in an expression. a sympathetic notion, a way of saying that he's been there. and he understood.

" then put it down, my friend. let me see you, as you are. "

love had always been a foreign word to keyleth.  of course, she loved her parents. they nurtured her gifts, prepared her as best they could for her upcoming trials, and unconditionally loved her from the moment she was born. she loves her friends. all of vox machina will hold a special place in her heart for the centuries to come, even after they have all left this material plane without her. the feeling of safety and security they have given her over the years of imminent danger is one she isn’t soon to let go of. 

but vex has always been different, hasn’t she? 

the sort of love that she has for the other half-elven woman is one that often swirls in her mind in a fit of confusion and uncertainty. the way a simple hand on her shoulder causes keyleth’s entire body to light on fire, coloring her pale cheeks a soft rose like the ones that grow beneath the snows of whitestone. vex’s confidence and charisma have always inspired her to feel the same in herself, despite how often she might offer it with a snide comment or two. there has always been something different with her and up until recently, the druid couldn’t quite place it. now she knows, truly, what it means to love someone. love is the fluttering her heart feels when their lips meet, when slender and calloused fingers grip at her waist to pull keyleth in closer.