[P] don't let me down

[Eros]

   

.Eros.
     

“Okay, Po it is,” Eros complies and smiles. He had definitely said Ipomoea. Maybe he prefers his nickname? Eros supposes he could relate, though, his nickname far shorter and more convenient than his given name. Unn Iris Åse Frøya Sørensen. He thinks of Aion saying it, stumbling over the many syllables and unfamiliar sounds; he remembers smiling, and laughing. His smile falters. He doesn’t laugh.

They haven’t been separated for long, but it already feels like an eternity. He misses even the frowns.

Eros doesn’t want to picture Aion anymore. It only makes him think of what he doesn’t have now. “Blue, like the sky, sure. Or the ocean, maybe?” Eros remembers adventuring to the ocean with Aion. The water had been cool and the sun hot, the waves erasing his hoofprints from the damp sand as he had galloped down the beach. Aion had laughed and trotted along behind. Eros bites back the tears that begin to sting his eyes and throat.

“Does the forest have flowers? I could pick some to give to Aion when we find him.” He tries to will away his doubts with optimism, but he can’t quite get himself to believe it. At best they’ll be wilted by then, he thinks. At worst he’ll never find Aion to give them to. He wishes it’d be that, at worst, they’d wilt.

“What did you say your name was again?,” Po asks. ’unn ee-ris ah-seh fray-uh sorensen.’ One tear slips down his cheek, the only intimation of his inner thoughts behind his renewed smile. “I’m Eros.”




i think he'd be fine? c'x
they don't need to be friendly? C: as long as your replies are on time, unlike mine
     

 

 
     

tag: @ipomoea