where you go, I shall follow Moira
From the rich reds on his cheeks, striped down his neck, at the apex of his thighs, to the chocolate and cave-dark blackness of his lips, along his legs that were covered with white socks, and the brightness of his eyes, Moira once again is lost in the beauty of the man. Only the rich tone of his voice pulls her from the painting she sees - a man high upon the mountaintop crowned in starlight with a billowing cape of silver and blue. Gold meteors streaking through the atmosphere until he is haloed by the heavens - the chosen king of Denocte and Caligo. But it is the honesty, the earnestness, that draws her into his words and pulls a bittersweet smile onto her own carmine face. "It goes to show the heart of the people you lead, to allow those from outside into their guild as their leader. I think, if you don't mind, I would very much enjoy a lesson or two from you, Reichenbach. One trip out is more than enough for now, perhaps in time I will get to know your people as well as you do." For Moira is not truly one of them yet, now is she.She has not strolled among the stalls under the full moon with a lover on her arm (even if she would not see them after that night). She has not painted a million portraits to capture not just the face, but the very heart of friends she has not made. She has not lived as the citizens do, but something unfurls.
Moira wants to belong.
A bitter laugh escapes, eyes closing with a harsh hum so at odds from the warmth just moments before. "They are my family and they are nothing like the freedom you offer. It is a collar and leash, a noose made of love and tradition and all that is stagnant. Here... There is so much more here." It is not that she does not love her family, for Moira adores the Tonnerres with everything she is. But love can be a poison just as sweet as any other, killing slowly bit by bit.
His slip of attention is not noticed as she opens her eyes and looks once more to the others who peer at them, curiosity written in the lines of pretty faces. Another thing she loves - the diversity. People from all walks of life are around them. The energy alone is enough to lift her spirits once more.
"You can tell her that she has a friend," she says at last, chuckling before his last question comes and all breath is knocked from her.
The phoenix chokes on her happiness, on the brief glimmer of joy and comradery she felt. A bleakness washes over her, erasing the smile from her eyes and the grin from her lips, pulling away the looseness of her skin, culminating in a dark cloud over her head. Estelle... Her Estelle who is not by her side, had not been for more than half a year now. Her Estelle who was the first to love her despite her obvious flaws and the wings others so abhorred. Her Estelle...
Her Estelle who she'd abandoned.
For a moment Moira feels lightheaded, frantically looking to the windows, to the doors, back to the hallway which would lead her into the halls that would help find a cure for the ailment her cousin had suffered. Panic-stricken and heartbroken, she gasps at last to avoid fainting. "She is not here." Moira says coldly, leaving no room for further questions on that subject. It is too sore a wound that has yet to heal, too fresh still for her to recover from, if ever she will. "Tell me of Denocte, my king, a story you love?" and so easily she moves away from the conversation of her cousin, but the tension still sits in her shoulders, lurks in the shadows of her petite Arabian frame.
How could she tell him that Estelle could be dead and it could have been her fault? She opts for silence instead.
Thoughts... "Words." || @Reichenbach sorry this took so long ;o; please accept my humble mini novel of love
code for e-cho/moira © inkbone
