His smile is rueful, a little bit sad and a little bit understanding. He knew he wasn’t going to change her mind; how could he? She believed in nature, he in nurture. His life was as much what he’d made of it as it was what the world had turned him into.
He wants to tell her so - his heart is aching, for her and for himself. You’re still young, his thoughts plead silently for her to understand. There’s so much left ahead of you. He was not the same person he had been a year ago; each season he was different, if only by a small amount. Each day he was faced with choices, and each decision added another nick to his mold, another scar to his heart. Each one helped craft him into the man he was to become, whether he realized it at the time or not. He bet she wouldn’t be the same, either. Life kept turning, like a wheel pushed down a never-ending mountain.
She could say it was her nature all she wanted; but he had more faith than that, more hope.
Sometimes, you had to kill the person you were born to be, in order to become the person you wanted to be.
But he had learned that on his own. Perhaps she needed to, as well.
So for now he simply steals a glance at her from the side, her sigh letting out at least a little of the tension she held. As the two fall into step beside one another, as the trees close in around them and the roaring of the water fades into the background, he finds himself relaxing as well.
“To each their own,” he says instead of all he’s thinking. “But there will always be a place for you in Delumine.”
Their strides match, and birdsong quickly takes over with each step they take. His smile grows a little lighter now; the forest is a happy place for Po, so full of life and movement and song. His magic leaves a trail of new flowers and grasses sprouting in their wake.
Her voice though catches his attention again, one slender ear tilting in her direction. For a moment he’s quiet, mulling over her words. His heart is aching again, beating painfully in his chest.
“I would be your friend,” he says finally, and his voice is little more than a whisper. He hesitates, a heartbeat stretched thin between them “-If you’ll have me as one.”
Something tells him that she could just as easily befriend him as hate him.
He leaves it up to her to decide.
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@
<3 <3 <3
”here am i!“
