[ Every word radiates through him. Like a clear note struck on a bell in an empty room. Like the wings of a dove in flight. Like crystalline-bright light, splintered into kaleidoscopic fractions dancing in the sun. Like a wish.
Maruki is a man who puts an exceptional amount of weight on words. Simple kindnesses spoken in times of need, genuine praise for work well done, reassurance when he forgets what he already knows to be true, affirmation that someone feels the same as he does. Talk isn't cheap, not to him. And words aren't only words, pretty and romantic but ultimately meaningless. They are significant, tremendously so; sacred.
Venat will die. He isn't naive. He has known this since the very day they met in dreams. She will die beyond death, the very essence of her soul rendered discorporate.
Yet memory persists. If not in the way that he knows, then in the echoes of all reality.
It's no small thing. It's the most phenomenal thing of all.
They are the most phenomenal thing of all, he thinks. A force to be reckoned with that will be felt throughout time, simply because they've allowed themselves to come together.
Maruki is entirely silent as her words settle over him like powder-fine snow. Venat's eyes – brilliant, ethereal, glowing with all her conviction and all her radiant joy – locked inexorably on his, her touch lingering on his face, her heart bared just as much as his.
All at once, his face splits into a smile like he's not felt in long years. A luminous thing that glows from within. It aches, and if he has learned anything in Somnius, anything by being with her, it is that it's not such a bad thing, to ache. ]
I'm so grateful your soul made this detour before its ultimate fate. More grateful than ever.
[ He mirrors her motion, cups her face in one warm palm, thumb skating over her cheekbone for a moment before he draws her in closer. The motion is slow, tender, almost impossibly so. He's well aware how unexpected all of this is to Venat; it's why he's waited months for this moment: To meet her halfway, to breathe her in, to press his lips gently to hers, like a promise. It's a soft kiss, but Maruki is nothing but steady, assured. He'll anchor her through something entirely new. It's the very least he can do. ]
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Maruki is a man who puts an exceptional amount of weight on words. Simple kindnesses spoken in times of need, genuine praise for work well done, reassurance when he forgets what he already knows to be true, affirmation that someone feels the same as he does. Talk isn't cheap, not to him. And words aren't only words, pretty and romantic but ultimately meaningless. They are significant, tremendously so; sacred.
Venat will die. He isn't naive. He has known this since the very day they met in dreams. She will die beyond death, the very essence of her soul rendered discorporate.
Yet memory persists. If not in the way that he knows, then in the echoes of all reality.
It's no small thing. It's the most phenomenal thing of all.
They are the most phenomenal thing of all, he thinks. A force to be reckoned with that will be felt throughout time, simply because they've allowed themselves to come together.
Maruki is entirely silent as her words settle over him like powder-fine snow. Venat's eyes – brilliant, ethereal, glowing with all her conviction and all her radiant joy – locked inexorably on his, her touch lingering on his face, her heart bared just as much as his.
All at once, his face splits into a smile like he's not felt in long years. A luminous thing that glows from within. It aches, and if he has learned anything in Somnius, anything by being with her, it is that it's not such a bad thing, to ache. ]
I'm so grateful your soul made this detour before its ultimate fate. More grateful than ever.
[ He mirrors her motion, cups her face in one warm palm, thumb skating over her cheekbone for a moment before he draws her in closer. The motion is slow, tender, almost impossibly so. He's well aware how unexpected all of this is to Venat; it's why he's waited months for this moment: To meet her halfway, to breathe her in, to press his lips gently to hers, like a promise. It's a soft kiss, but Maruki is nothing but steady, assured. He'll anchor her through something entirely new. It's the very least he can do. ]