Spring’s arrival brought with it an improvement in Eros’ mood, albeit a modest one. He has always loved the season—the fragrance of blooming flowers and joy of life anew. Sleep comes easier with the warm embrace of sunshine late into the evening, too. The sun’s arms have nothing on those of his mate, of course, but he supposes a lousy substitute is better than none at all.
This morning is a good one. The melodious chirp of birds draws him from sleep, the traces of warmth and comfort from his dreams still lingering in his mind. With a smile, he presses a gentle kiss to the tattoo on his hind leg and whispers a quiet“I love you” in what has become his new morning ritual. He hopes Aion can feel it, or that at the least he had told him so enough before they were separated.
Sometimes, when uncertainty and insecurity lie heavy in his mind, he wonders if Aion’s love for him ever dwindles. Just the other day had Eros plucked the petals from a daisy one by one, mumbling"he loves me, he loves me not—“
"He loves me!,” the flower had declared. Eros is inclined to believe it; Aion has told him as much many times before, but oh, what he would give to hear it just once more from the man’s lips themselves. For now, though, the flower’s affirmation will have to do.
Today he seeks flowers, too, but for a different reason entirely. Today, he wants to feel beautiful again. And so, he ventures into the fields of Delumine, marveling at the colors of spring painted across the meadow. The tall grasses tickle his legs and flank as he settles himself in the centre of a patch of wildflowers.
With his telekinesis he pinches a lavender one and tugs the stem from the ground, but a soft breeze pulls it from his weak grasp. He frowns, displeased yet undeterred, and picks another; this time he is able to secure it in his tail before it is blown away. He continues on in the same manner until the entire braid is ornamented, proudly admiring his handiwork when finished. If only I had someone to show it to, he thinks, but maybe it is enough—just this once—to feel pretty himself.
@messalina
i'm not particularly happy w this, but i hope it's okay!!
<3
This morning is a good one. The melodious chirp of birds draws him from sleep, the traces of warmth and comfort from his dreams still lingering in his mind. With a smile, he presses a gentle kiss to the tattoo on his hind leg and whispers a quiet
Sometimes, when uncertainty and insecurity lie heavy in his mind, he wonders if Aion’s love for him ever dwindles. Just the other day had Eros plucked the petals from a daisy one by one, mumbling
Today he seeks flowers, too, but for a different reason entirely. Today, he wants to feel beautiful again. And so, he ventures into the fields of Delumine, marveling at the colors of spring painted across the meadow. The tall grasses tickle his legs and flank as he settles himself in the centre of a patch of wildflowers.
With his telekinesis he pinches a lavender one and tugs the stem from the ground, but a soft breeze pulls it from his weak grasp. He frowns, displeased yet undeterred, and picks another; this time he is able to secure it in his tail before it is blown away. He continues on in the same manner until the entire braid is ornamented, proudly admiring his handiwork when finished. If only I had someone to show it to, he thinks, but maybe it is enough—just this once—to feel pretty himself.
@messalina
i'm not particularly happy w this, but i hope it's okay!!
<3
