and bury it before it buries me
Elena has spent so much of her life needing, her whole life even.
Needing her parents. Needing to be saved from the monsters that threaten her. Needing to feel loved, or something of the sort, even if it was a lie. Needing to feel anything but the weight of the grief that always presses into her bones enough that they bend but do not break. She needs things like a child does, reaching for them, desperate to hold, believing this thing she needs will make her whole.
And right now, Elena needs you, Tenebrae. She thinks maybe she ought to tell him so. She doesn’t, the silence is too captivating. She just closes her eyes to the feel of his mouth against her, the quiet beauty of them coming together, the sound of anchor and port.
Perhaps theirs was not a love to stand the test of time. Perhaps it will crumble beneath the pressure of all the demons that stand, screaming behind the door. Perhaps one, or both, will fall beneath the weight of a love from their past, the pressure too much for their mortal spines to bear. Perhaps, but she doesn't know. Right now, with his mouth on hers and his emotions blossoming inside her chest as her empathy hums like lightning in her veins, she doesn’t care. They are the only thing that matters—the only thing that could feasibly ever matter.
Them and the child she has not yet dreamed about.
Even if she could have understood her somewhat overwhelming emotions, she probably wouldn’t have wanted to. Her heart racing and her stomach is erupting into butterflies. She trembled subconsciously into the warmth of his neck. His voice strikes a chord within her chest. It graceful like the violin, with the tempo of the piano. She wants her ribs to fall away and show him the contents of her heart, to show him where she hurts, and to tell him every secret she has ever kept. To show him just how much he had changed her. That her heart tonight is not the same heart that came from the sea onto the streets of Terrastella. He has more than changed her, he has rebuilt her entirely.
Her fire had cleansed her.
His shadows restored her.
They are so quiet for a moment, her confession, her love, sits against skin, finding its way to his heart. But everything else ceases to move (the stars still shine, but Elena knows they would so so even if the world ended). The fragile hammering of her heart reassures her that she is alive and he is with her. Her heart opens and his emotions flood in. She wants to cry and laugh and sing, but it all washes out in a beautiful sigh as her lips land in a kiss against him.
“It’s no rush until the world starts ending.” And for the longest time Elena has feared for the end of it all, if it would come by fire or water or the earth shattering in two. She isn't scared here, with him holding her. It feels like the end is an eternity away.
There is no rush.
No rush in the way she traces the slope of his shoulder, no rush as she gently trails up his neck, and she takes her time to look into his eyes.
He says those words and her heart stops.
He says those words and she can’t breathe.
He wants her.
Taking the smallest steps away, there is a new light in her eyes, a joy she intends to linger in. She can feel him ache at her separation, and her legs feel weak. That wish, it flies away, and Elena imagines it keeps on floating up and up, forever and ever. Forever. He had told her so. He finds her in the water. She could frown here, but her lips blossom into a smile, for him and him alone. “I had to wish for it,” she reassures him. “I had to make sure it would come true.” She whispers, ripping what is left of her heart and handing it so easily to him. For all of the demons and ghosts that haunt her, she cannot stop the way that she so quickly follows him, her footsteps echoing as she descends downwards into shadows, his shadows, as she consumes the pomegranate without question.
It is more than a dance in the water, it is like a baptism. The water splashes against her, each droplet making her anew. For all her fire, maybe Elena was not meant to be born from the ashes of a fire, but from the cleansing of water. “I’ll make another wish,” she says when he holds her. “I’ll wish that you dance not like it’s the last time, or the first, but the only time.” There is something reborn in her smile. Maybe it is not neither then, but both. The first time, and the last time.
They become one so easily, so effortlessly, it is almost hard for her to believe they have ever been apart. She thinks maybe he has been there her whole life.
Tenebrae was there, in Windskeep, when the war was wild. He was there, in Murmuring Rivers when she and Lilli tried to race the river. He was there, in Paraiso, when they discovered a cave of crystals and magic. The monk was there when she sat beneath a pine tree in Culloden, unsure where to go next. Tenebrae was there in Hyaline when she prepared herself for diplomatic visits. He was there when she left that behind and came to Terrastella on a winter’s day. There when she was in Taiga, standing frigid in the ocean.
And he is here.
He is here.
He is here.
“I need you, Tenebrae.”
She can feel his heart, it is held inside her own and Elena wants to keep it there forever because when she can hear it thrumming in her ears, it lets her forget anything else that has ever happened. It provides the tempo for their movement. The stars are delicate like flutes, the water is the strum of violins, and the lantern, burning somewhere far away, (as far away as forever maybe) is the conductor and Elena succumbs to the music of the night. “You told me to come here if I wanted to remember, but tonight.” Tonight, with the orchestra surrounding them. “I only want to remember you.”
Needing her parents. Needing to be saved from the monsters that threaten her. Needing to feel loved, or something of the sort, even if it was a lie. Needing to feel anything but the weight of the grief that always presses into her bones enough that they bend but do not break. She needs things like a child does, reaching for them, desperate to hold, believing this thing she needs will make her whole.
And right now, Elena needs you, Tenebrae. She thinks maybe she ought to tell him so. She doesn’t, the silence is too captivating. She just closes her eyes to the feel of his mouth against her, the quiet beauty of them coming together, the sound of anchor and port.
Perhaps theirs was not a love to stand the test of time. Perhaps it will crumble beneath the pressure of all the demons that stand, screaming behind the door. Perhaps one, or both, will fall beneath the weight of a love from their past, the pressure too much for their mortal spines to bear. Perhaps, but she doesn't know. Right now, with his mouth on hers and his emotions blossoming inside her chest as her empathy hums like lightning in her veins, she doesn’t care. They are the only thing that matters—the only thing that could feasibly ever matter.
Them and the child she has not yet dreamed about.
Even if she could have understood her somewhat overwhelming emotions, she probably wouldn’t have wanted to. Her heart racing and her stomach is erupting into butterflies. She trembled subconsciously into the warmth of his neck. His voice strikes a chord within her chest. It graceful like the violin, with the tempo of the piano. She wants her ribs to fall away and show him the contents of her heart, to show him where she hurts, and to tell him every secret she has ever kept. To show him just how much he had changed her. That her heart tonight is not the same heart that came from the sea onto the streets of Terrastella. He has more than changed her, he has rebuilt her entirely.
Her fire had cleansed her.
His shadows restored her.
They are so quiet for a moment, her confession, her love, sits against skin, finding its way to his heart. But everything else ceases to move (the stars still shine, but Elena knows they would so so even if the world ended). The fragile hammering of her heart reassures her that she is alive and he is with her. Her heart opens and his emotions flood in. She wants to cry and laugh and sing, but it all washes out in a beautiful sigh as her lips land in a kiss against him.
“It’s no rush until the world starts ending.” And for the longest time Elena has feared for the end of it all, if it would come by fire or water or the earth shattering in two. She isn't scared here, with him holding her. It feels like the end is an eternity away.
There is no rush.
No rush in the way she traces the slope of his shoulder, no rush as she gently trails up his neck, and she takes her time to look into his eyes.
He says those words and her heart stops.
He says those words and she can’t breathe.
He wants her.
Taking the smallest steps away, there is a new light in her eyes, a joy she intends to linger in. She can feel him ache at her separation, and her legs feel weak. That wish, it flies away, and Elena imagines it keeps on floating up and up, forever and ever. Forever. He had told her so. He finds her in the water. She could frown here, but her lips blossom into a smile, for him and him alone. “I had to wish for it,” she reassures him. “I had to make sure it would come true.” She whispers, ripping what is left of her heart and handing it so easily to him. For all of the demons and ghosts that haunt her, she cannot stop the way that she so quickly follows him, her footsteps echoing as she descends downwards into shadows, his shadows, as she consumes the pomegranate without question.
It is more than a dance in the water, it is like a baptism. The water splashes against her, each droplet making her anew. For all her fire, maybe Elena was not meant to be born from the ashes of a fire, but from the cleansing of water. “I’ll make another wish,” she says when he holds her. “I’ll wish that you dance not like it’s the last time, or the first, but the only time.” There is something reborn in her smile. Maybe it is not neither then, but both. The first time, and the last time.
They become one so easily, so effortlessly, it is almost hard for her to believe they have ever been apart. She thinks maybe he has been there her whole life.
Tenebrae was there, in Windskeep, when the war was wild. He was there, in Murmuring Rivers when she and Lilli tried to race the river. He was there, in Paraiso, when they discovered a cave of crystals and magic. The monk was there when she sat beneath a pine tree in Culloden, unsure where to go next. Tenebrae was there in Hyaline when she prepared herself for diplomatic visits. He was there when she left that behind and came to Terrastella on a winter’s day. There when she was in Taiga, standing frigid in the ocean.
And he is here.
He is here.
He is here.
“I need you, Tenebrae.”
She can feel his heart, it is held inside her own and Elena wants to keep it there forever because when she can hear it thrumming in her ears, it lets her forget anything else that has ever happened. It provides the tempo for their movement. The stars are delicate like flutes, the water is the strum of violins, and the lantern, burning somewhere far away, (as far away as forever maybe) is the conductor and Elena succumbs to the music of the night. “You told me to come here if I wanted to remember, but tonight.” Tonight, with the orchestra surrounding them. “I only want to remember you.”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Tenebrae <3
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
