"your body, a drug for mine; two bodies moving in space and time"
Stars wink down on them when they step from the grandiose masquerade hall. Eros is alight with music, with moonlight. His breath is hot on Aion’s neck as he giggles into his ear—”Let’s explore.” So he stumbles down the steps toward the markets, leaning into his fiancé for support. Underneath the silver-studded sky, it’s just them; the songs and voices around the lovers fade into the hum of cicadas, and the lights seem dimmer when they could be looking at each other instead.
Tonight liquid fire runs in his veins, something wild. His heart thrums with the essence of summer. The air is warm on their skin, but Eros’ searing kisses down Aion’s jaw and throat are warmer. Only the roaring bonfires that bracket a singular tent at the market’s edge can rival his heat. He’s drawn to them, to their energy, to their sinuous tendrils. “What’s in here?,” he asks of the glittering cloth. @aion
The stars were so bright tonight - or was it the many lights and lanterns shining around them? Aion couldn’t be sure, not with the world spinning the way it was.
Everything felt topsy turvy, as if the world had been flipped upside down, and gravity was trying to pull him in the opposite direction. It’s all he can do to just keep up with Eros as his beloved pulls him away from the ball and into the markets. ’It feels like a fairy tale,’ is all he has time to think, pressing his shoulder into Eros’ for both the comfort of his touch and the physical support.
Eros is like a moth drawn to a flame, and for a second he’s jealous that his mate is drawn more to the curtains than to him. But he can still feel the fire his kisses left on his skin, and he directs his eyes to the tent.
”Let’s find out,” he says in a moment of impulsiveness, stepping through the glittering curtains and into the tent…
”Sit,” the shed-star tells them, and it seems her voice is papery and thin. ”Would you like to know what the cards say?”
Had he not been inebriated, he might have walked out right then, away from the old mare and the weaving smoke and her silver, silver eyes. Away from his future, or at least the possibility the cards might have some sliver of truth to them.
Instead he looks to Eros, already moving towards the ruby red pillows. They contrast the white of his body, and it’s remarkable how much they look like blood against his pale skin - but they’re soft, and he sinks into them, pulling Eros down beside him.
He meets her glassy eyes, and is surprised at how easily the question comes to him.
”What does the future hold for us? Together?”
walk. "talk."
does it still count as a fast thread if this is at least faster than normal
@Official Night Account @Eros
The mare watches them with more interest than she had watched all the other curious souls this night. They are the first couple to find their way to her. Something in the fire in their eyes and the warmth of their skin reminds the old shed-star of when she was young. Love bloomed in her heart once, a galaxy worth of it.
And so when she smiles at them it's toothy and bright. Her old, silver eyes spark as white as the center of a newborn star. She shuffles the cards for them practically, leaving out all her flashy magic so that the two of them might continue to be the brightest, most magical things in her tent.
Soon there are three cards spread across the table between them. The first is a card with a butterfly hanging above six broken branches. The second is a single cups, an ace. The last is painted with four swords pointing down to a lamb with a sun upon its brow.
The mare's smile deepens.
Her words drip with warmth and something in the tone of them suggests that she knows all the brightness of their hearts and the wants in their bellies. There is little in this nighttime world that a star does not see. “You should both look carefully at the butterfly, rising up and taking on a new life from the sticks it once lived upon as a caterpillar. This card symbolizes life, a new life full of success, love and newness.” There are a million secrets in her eyes as she pauses and inhales. “For the two of you the cup of life is about to overflow with love and joy. But tread carefully, there will be challenges to your happiness. Everything that you need to get past them is inside you and all the love between you both.”
There is a place deep in the shed-star that stars to ache with a low, remember pain. Perhaps it's bits of jealousy. Her own cards have ever been cruel and useless to her. “Reflect, remember how far you've come and how far you're willing to go for love.” She uses her nose to gesture towards the entrance of the tent, telling the lovers that she has nothing more from them.
Just before they leave the confines of her world she whispers, low enough that it might be nothing more than then wind. “Congratulations.”
"your body, a drug for mine; two bodies moving in space and time"
We should get pillows like these, he thinks, distant. His head feels stuffed with cotton. Eros watches the way she spreads the cards before them, tries to follow the movements of her lips and tongue, but her words seem to evaporate the moment they leave her mouth. Her face is lined with age, with gravity, and he doesn’t dare ask her to repeat herself. It’s no use, all he can hear is the roaring fires and the dim pulse of music, anyway.
His perfume is cloying, thick as syrup on the air. He wonders then if Aion is dizzied, too. (Next time he’ll wear less, he tells himself.) It isn’t until she waves them from her tent he realizes how warm it had been inside. How stuffy. Goosebumps prick at his skin and a shiver tickles his spine as the breeze whispers in his ear “Congratulations”.
Or, perhaps more likely, his ears are playing tricks on him. Still, he looks back at Aion and asks—“What does it mean?” @aion
If it wasn’t for Eros pressed into his side, he probably would not have stayed so long in that tent. Aion wasn’t one for fairytales or fortune; the future was better left a surprise, lest he bring more bad luck down on himself.
But something in the mare’s silvery eyes and gravely voice had him captivated. As much as he might have wanted to leave, he couldn’t, wouldn’t, until the reading was over. He kept his eyes on Eros as she spoke, letting her words wash over them.
He was all but sober in an instant.
“Thank you,” he told her, rising to his feet and directing Eros from the tent - but he isn’t sure what he is thankful for. The air outside is crisp and refreshing, and he takes a moment to breathe deeply.
“I’m not sure,” he tells his beloved, as they begin to walk again. “Do you believe in fortune telling?”
The cards’ faces burn brightly in his mind: a butterfly rising from the sticks, a cup glowing with light and life, four swords pointing down on a lamb.
Congratulations.
Somehow he knew, that was one experience he was not soon to forget.
"your body, a drug for mine; two bodies moving in space and time"
He hadn’t believed in spirits before, hadn’t believed in a higher power. They’d never listened to him when he was younger; maybe they knew he’d been forced into it, that his parents never provided him the opportunity to explore his faith for himself. But he’d prayed two winters previous to Vespera that Aion would return to him safely—and he did. Perhaps not by the Dusk goddess’ hand, but he’d returned nonetheless. So, does he believe? “I don’t know.”
Eros has a healthy imagination; believing in things he can’t see isn’t difficult for him. And he’s certainly not a pessimist. “It could be real?” He just isn’t certain it is. And if it is, what do her words mean for them? He strains to remember what it is she even said. Surely Aion had been paying attention, he figures, pressing his shoulder to his mate’s.
The air outside is refreshing, further clearing his head. Everything is still fuzzy, the ground still a little topsy-turvy — but far less so now than when he had first stepped into the tent. Maybe it’s a good thing, Aion wasn’t normally the sort to drink in public. But he had let go of his inhibitions tonight, and maybe that was why he was in this position tonight.
Or, at least he could blame the alcohol regardless.
Eros’ touch was comforting, and he leaned into him in kind. “I don’t think so,” he spoke, sparing one glance behind them at the tent they had left. “I’ve never seen those things come true.” Even now, the cards are still bright in his mind, her words reverberating in his ears. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t. He had a healthy sense of doubt, but also a strange feeling deep in his stomach. But was it a sense of foreboding… or excitement?
"your body, a drug for mine; two bodies moving in space and time"
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the impulsiveness of a summer breeze mirrored inside him, but Eros has a wild thought then to turn back, to walk in and demand she tell them what it meant. To ask her how she can be so certain of the prophecies she dares speak. Instead, he closes his eyes against the festival’s market bustle and lets himself imagine what truths might await them. It doesn’t take long for joyous anticipation to bloom in his heart. Anticipation that is soon coursing through his veins, setting his limbs abuzz with energy.
He turns to Aion, then, eyes glittering like stars as he follows his mate out into the crowd.
“And yet you never know when that could change,” Eros contends, pressing a long, gentle kiss to his cheek. After all, by some miracle they had been returned to one another. Who is to say that they won’t see another wonder made real? @aion
and then i blow it taking a whole month to reply
His stomach is still fluttering, but he isn’t sure if it’s from the old shed star’s words, the alcohol, or just the excitement of having his mate back. Perhaps it’s a compilation of all three, or maybe it’s just the magic of the night that ties his heart into knots. Either way, the prophecy’s effect is fading fast.
Surely he’ll remember it in the morning, when the alcohol wears off, but for now he just wants to dance with his beloved.
”And yet you never know when that could change.” Aion leans into the kiss, and that’s all it takes to shift his focus entirely. “All I know is, the night is not over yet,” he tells him, pressing their shoulders together and guiding him back to the markets.
And when he turns to kiss him again, their lips touching with all the gentleness and impatience that only they can know, the stars seem to wink at them and each other.
Stars wink down on them when they step from the grandiose masquerade hall. Eros is alight with music, with moonlight. His breath is hot on Aion’s neck as he giggles into his ear—
