𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 -- 𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐂

𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 : ♡ . . . 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴

⎇ angel with a shotgun by the cab
· · ─────── · ─────── · ·

ECHO MISSES
THE WEIGHT

Wings.

Joon has wings now. Echo likes them, she does, but she misses her own. The familiar weight on her back is long gone, and the blistering sensation that climbs up the old scars still prevent her from sleeping on her back.

He's making breakfast for them both of them now. Morning air slips through the cracks of the window, but it's not quite cold enough that she's worried. The house is still warm; heavy with the scent of blueberry waffles. Echo likes blueberry waffles.

Her eyes traced his bare back, where the phoenix tattoo was now marred by twin wing scars, still healing from their first appearence. It hasn't hurt as much, is what Joon said. Only because of the adrenaline. At least, that's what he told her. Echo can't help but think maybe she has a low pain tolerance compared to the others. None of them seemed to struggle with their wings as much as she did with hers. Of course, her wings were a little different sometimes. Her magic was a little different. Wild and petulant. It still scares her, especially knowing how rapidly it consumed her not too long ago.

It's such a pretty tattoo, even with the mirroring scars that hang against the inked wings. His wings, his real ones, are pretty too. Snow Owl wings. Sharp and agile. She thought it matched his persona a lot. Smart. Cunning. Quick. Heaven forbid she tell that to him, he probably already said it to himself in the mirror this morning.

Echo almost smiles at her internal joke, eyes dancing back towards the window as she lifts a cup of cider to sip. The trees are pretty outside, tall and dense, masking their home from the views of the others. It was private, not so far from the beach, but farther than some of the other houses. Joon's house had always been the closest to hers anyway. The Isle of Elysian must have known.

Warmth sinks down her throat, the cuddly sensation of pear cider settling deep into her stomach. It's so pretty, Autumn is. The sky is clear, and fresh, rolling air floods her lungs. It would have been a really nice day for a flight, wouldn't it?

I want them back.

Echo knows. She knows she doesn't have anything in her right now. She might not even have the strength to fly. She's lighter than she's been in a while, spending a month living as the embodiment of fire and all. She doesn't want to be weak any more. Too bad it doesn't work like that.

Biting her inner cheek, she sinks a little more into her chair, trying her best to blink away the thoughts. It's fine. Isn't it? It's fine because it has to be. She can miss her wings all she wants, but they aren't going to come back just by wishing.

"Echo, are you listening?"

Her head snaps back to the sound of an all too familiar voice. In front of her is her soulmate, holding a plate of blueberry waffles out to her. His face is crossed with concern, the glittering amusement from whatever he'd been talking about fading from his eyes.

Shame dances across her cheeks, but before she can nod and dismiss his worry, he sets down the plate in front of her, leaning over the table. "What's wrong?"

God. Fuck Park Ye-Joon and his goddamn observation skills. Instead, Echo offers a weary smile. "It's nothing, what were you saying?"

He looks skeptical at best, leaning back and crossing lean arms over his chest. He's more muscular than he looks sometimes. Not that Echo is complaining. "I just mentioned Chuseok. I was wondering if Cue would let us celebrate it this year instead of thanksgiving. Although there isn't any harm in having both, I thought it could be nice."