[ It's 'I'd burn myself to the bone to keep you warm'. It's the ragged mask of the monsters they'd been, the shadows of the trauma they carry in their blood, the promise of something steady if not simple. It's this tangling of their nerves and the uneven scars under calloused palms meant for triggers and magazines as they find the pace to breathe together.
It's everything. Locus is- everything.
And it's not as terrifying as it had been a day ago. A week ago.
He rolls down and rises up, keeping it slow. Building to something that crackles in the back of his eyes as every rock down spears him right through, squeezing when he thins he can stand to be overwhelmed- breath wet and thick between them. Words aren't a thing anymore- it's all Locus' eyes, his breath, his hands, the shape of his lips- ]
no subject
It's everything. Locus is- everything.
And it's not as terrifying as it had been a day ago. A week ago.
He rolls down and rises up, keeping it slow. Building to something that crackles in the back of his eyes as every rock down spears him right through, squeezing when he thins he can stand to be overwhelmed- breath wet and thick between them. Words aren't a thing anymore- it's all Locus' eyes, his breath, his hands, the shape of his lips- ]