[P] i can't be alone with all that's on my mind

[Theodosia]

let our eyes show the 
fire in our hearts tonight

In the early Dusk, there is little but the sound of her own heartbeat drumming in her ears, the sound of her hooves against the dirt and striking against the straw-stuffed dummies that adorn the training grounds -- at least until the Commander appears from the darkness. She lifts her head to look towards Marisol, and for a moment there is something feral in her eyes, a spark that spoke of the storm that raged beneath her skin; and then it softened, like the clouds parting to a beam of sunlight, a raging storm turned to the pattering drops in the span of a few moments. “I thought I had asked the same of you,” She understands, however -- how could they sleep, when there is so much changing around them, when Asterion’s ghost hangs heavy over the entire court, when the thought of her empty, cold bed sends a pang through her chest?

There is no bite to her words -- she feels as though her teeth have been dulled down by exhaustion and the tides of grief that she keeps pushing away as if to postpone them. If she kept moving, kept fighting, kept avoiding sleep, then she could pretend that the grief wasn’t chasing her, nipping at her heels like an eager hound, ready to overtake her. “I didn’t think I would be able to sleep… not with everything that’s happened. Not when sleeping is already hard.” It had always been difficult for her, even as a child, to get her brain to settle down enough to allow her to rest -- the issue has only gotten worse since she had come here to Terrastella, since her responsibilities had grown in a way she had never quite expected even knowing what she did of the rank she had been given.

New responsibilities had brought about new things to worry about, and her time asleep had grown even shorter.

The moonlight gleams down on Marisol, offers glimpses of her face through the shadows -- the sharp curve of her cheek, the dark shadow of her eyes, the close-cropped bristle of her dark mane tipped in silver light -- and she exhales a soft sigh, closing her eyes for a moment to collect her scattered thoughts.

(She could, perhaps, stare at Marisol all night, at the way she seems like a statue in the darkness, like a masterpiece carved by the most loving of hands -- and the way the sight of her never failed to make her heart skip a minor beat.)

When her eyes open, there is something thoughtful within them, something soft and vulnerable that she would only trust Marisol with. “I sleep better when I’m with you,” She admits, and oh, isn’t that the truth -- she slept like a babe when Marisol was pressed against her, when she could hear the commander’s soft breathing and match hers to it instead of focusing on all of the racing thoughts in her mind.

She swallows her pride and extends her wing like an invitation, lets the exhaustion creep into her voice because she hopes that Marisol won’t judge her for it, won’t judge her for still being part-mortal, for the idea that she couldn’t juggle everything without resting sometimes.

“Will you come to bed with me?”

credits

@Marisol