some memories never leave your bones.
like the salt in the sea; they become a part of you
- you carry them.
like the salt in the sea; they become a part of you
- you carry them.
The more he meets unicorn girls, the more they fill his dreams and the more he can hear how his antlers sing with memories of their horns. Some have enchanted him, others have enraged him, yet others he has pledged his life to. But Aspara, she enchants and enrages him and wounds him deeply.
She is disgusted, ashamed and he does not know why. He knows it is the necklace, she seemed to like it at first, she blushed when he put it on. Leonidas thought that was a good sign - meant she wanted the necklace. But now, now she thrusts it back to him and sets her silverblue gaze upon him with the fierceness of a salt-water unicorn. Yet Leonidas is time and ancient magic and he has learned to never kneel to a unicorn.
Apsara refuses him her rejection like the crack of a whip. Her foot digs into the dirt and the boy’s ears fall to his poll, his muscled neck arching as he stands tall, a wall with which to deflect her ire. Her rejection stings, it is like a lash across his cheek. Still Leonidas does not understand. How is he to get her things when he has no money with which to buy them?
“Why not?” Leonidas grouses, softer now, as she steps closer. He sees the way passersby watch them, curious, he sees the way Aspara scowls back. She looks wilder in that moment, brave and irritated. He enjoys it, he realises, enjoys when she grows fierce, even if he does not understand why.
The air between them is warm. His cheeks are warm too as he peers down at her, the tangle of his mane touching hers in the breeze. She commands him, her voice lower yet every word is curt and unyielding. “No,” the wild-wood boy grunts, stubborn his voice the creak of trees in a midnight breeze. Leonidas want so many things in that moment, to see her anger spike, for her just to take his gift because her anger, her hurt is startling, her rejection is hurting him. He wants to take her anger from her. In frustration he looks toward the stall he took the necklace from, then he looks back to Aspara, pretty in her anger, but there is something else there. The way she watches him makes him wish to fight her, to meet her toe to toe. But, oh, there is something else behind her gaze...
So Leonidas reaches down, presses his nose into her neck and sighs, “You are beautiful.” Shy is his tone as the words are whispered against her skin in awe... “I always like looking at the moon over wildflower meadows. You are like the moon and the necklace is like the flowers I have seen.” The boy is softer now, a respite in their stubborn exchange. “It is why I wanted that one for you.” His confessions make him younger, more boyish as he grows quieter.
He looks away trying to ignore the way her silver-blue eyes watch him with a sea’s contempt and something... softer. At the stalls around them he hears the chink of metal, sees how small coins are passed from hand to hand. When he returns his gaze to her, golden and bright, he murmurs with a scowl, “Is it because I do not have... money?”
Money. Was that the word? He looks back, away from Aspara and to where more coins are being exchanged. Even if he had them, he does not understand it. He cannot count. Neither does Leonidas know what the larger or smaller coins mean. Shame floods him. Too embarrassed to tell her, regretting ever thinking it was a good idea to get her a necklace like that. He should have stuck to a wild flower one, strung an assortment together - replaced it each time when her flowers grew old and withered.
With a huff Leonidas turns toward the stall upon which her necklace had lain, “Come on.” And when they are close he hangs back, ears twitching, unsure, cautious. He does not take a step further but looks down at her expectantly. He would follow her into the Underworld, but he was not going to make returning his gift easy.
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