[ Midnight does not owe Kaveh a dance. The Sanguinarch, however, remembers it well, his lip curling softly as he touches his tender lip. (He looks born with those feathers, puffed in spitfire indignation. He deserves a long life. He deserves to find absolution someday, in some mortal fashion.) ]
I erred terribly. I did not realize that taking your heart would leave you with a dearth in your chest. Had I known... I should have grown one of my own long before this.
[ Midnight leans onto Kaveh's lap. Just a hand on his thigh, light. He's conscious of his weight, the bite of flaring nerves pinched dead in Kaveh's legs. ]
You can stand no longer, my love, my soul. Would you remind me of a promise I cannot keep? Or do you beg me to keep to my oath?
[ These questions are gentle. They do not mourn. Sweet, playful, mindful. His parlor room has heard the rise and fall of these gentle words so many times, over tea and sweet bread and mannerly conversation. This is not a wake, and the Sanguinarch, nobility of the Sarkaz court, must not suffer a funeral before the death that earns it. ]
no subject
I erred terribly. I did not realize that taking your heart would leave you with a dearth in your chest. Had I known... I should have grown one of my own long before this.
[ Midnight leans onto Kaveh's lap. Just a hand on his thigh, light. He's conscious of his weight, the bite of flaring nerves pinched dead in Kaveh's legs. ]
You can stand no longer, my love, my soul. Would you remind me of a promise I cannot keep? Or do you beg me to keep to my oath?
[ These questions are gentle. They do not mourn. Sweet, playful, mindful. His parlor room has heard the rise and fall of these gentle words so many times, over tea and sweet bread and mannerly conversation. This is not a wake, and the Sanguinarch, nobility of the Sarkaz court, must not suffer a funeral before the death that earns it. ]