@reburne / and in the fire, there was light. and in the light, there was sanctuary from the darkness. / for the ash-kissed bird.
DARK BROWS PINCH ACROSS MARBLE FEATURES, drafting a shadow of concern over his face. he sees the other seated by the wall, hunched and isolated beneath the midnight sky. a flicker of light crossed his eyes ( a timid spark, a gentle lick of charring earth and boiling gas ) ; he nears in curiosity, though quickly admits to himself that he is really trying to relinquish the unease trapped in his chest at the sight. an air of silence deafens them and, within it, the taste of quiet suffering splashed blatantly against chapped lips. thick in iron, the scent of blood wafts the closer he gets, and arthur sucks in a quiet breath in return. concentration begets more worry, for as he narrowed his gaze to an observant stare, he can't help but notice the touch of sparks and flames that twist around blonde hair and heavily-lidded blue eyes, as if the man was set aflame, stirring the smooth strokes of sunset across his pale skin. but even in his awe, the bearer is struck with a harrowing realization: it was just that — a picture of sunset, a frozen image of a dying star across the horizon, twisting in all its brilliance despite how it withered into the night. the young man was dancing to the song of twilight ( an inevitable force ; the wings of preordained nature, stroked with destiny, yet struggling with fate ), but he danced alone and in danger of something beyond himself. the music of a supernova between the want for rest and the need to keep moving. arthur was not quite sure what that something was ( that kiss of fate that leaves him empty despite the wonder at his tongue ), but he couldn't help the way he was compelled to act upon it. drawing to kneel beside the other, he hesitates before placing a gentle hand upon the shoulder in hopes to gradually rouse his unsuspecting companion. “ hey— ” it is soft, akin to the mild breeze, as he speaks barely above a whisper. he cannot hide the way his eyes peer, dipping from their wooden browns to match the other's aura ; in contrast, a sun rising, beckoning understanding from unknown power through the shift and stir of golds. “ are you — okay ?? you seem hurt. can i help ?? ”
