⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀    his hand slipped, caught against the sharpening edge of the spinner. the dagger collapsed with a loud clatter of sound. quickly, he bent to retrieve it, then moved away from the table. he turned his back on mary and eyed the outside of the barn. the sun looked warm, but there was a cool chill inside. dust hung in the air, the smell of hay and iron mixing with the faint scent of oil. Migizi pulled a cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around his right palm. the scent of it lingered too strongly, but he pursed his mouth, used to the rough ways of handling the barn animals, so the gash felt like a prickle of needle. he turned then, reached over to shut the spinner, and met her gaze.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀ “i know enough.” Migizi answered her. there was more to say, more things to come clean between them, but ten years later he still struggled to form the words on his tongue. he opened his mouth, then closed it. something made him move away from her, and he raised his right palm, slipping it inside his pocket. a pulsing pain cut through him, and he felt a dizzying rush. her words, the teeth of them, made him sick to his stomach. migizi walked out of the barn and took his hat off on the way. he wiped his face, cleaning the sweat that had gathered. outside, the ranch stretched wide-—fences running along the pasture, the sound of horses shifting in their stalls. he was torn between wanting to dig out the truth from her or the things she claimed to know he was not aware of, but the pain in his right hand drew him toward the outer courtyard. he walked with a limp. his hip was startin’ to act up again; it always did round this time of summer.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀⠀⠀ @youmwarayoum.

now , how is it you've found yourself at my door ?

   ⠀ID:  ⟮ @maneyre ⟯ 
            ⠀⠀⠀⠀┈┈┈─
            
            *guilt is as raw as bone. she feels as though she has chewed and swallowed the battered pieces of it. her heart reacts faster than her mind, latching onto every syllable of his words. all in threes. always a set of three with him, and she cannot bear it. her cheeks heat with both shame and anger. more at herself than at him. because she feels something inside her splitting apart. miri watches. frozen amidst the shock of it. this side of him.. [..] it renders her speechless. but it is his voice, more than anything, that leaves her dumbfounded. a strange prick of /jealousy/ works its way through her chest. what he does next makes her lift a hand. her fingertips brush his mouth, and she feels them shake.*
            
            Migizi.
            
            *miri whispers it, but her mind is elsewhere. turning like clockwork. piecing together fragments she had long ignored. every letter. every delivery of roses. every carving left behind by the woodpecker. every small thing in between. all of it had been there. all of it had been kept. her heart races painfully. she listens to the sound of his /laughter/ and how different it is from the one she remembers. deeper. fuller. unbearably real. the sight of it fills her head with too many thoughts at once. she shakes her head sharply and squeezes her eyes shut. her hands move to his shoulders and grip them hard. it hurts. she breathes too quickly. the scent of him is everywhere. it crowds her senses until she can hardly think.*    s—say more. your stutter is gone.  
            
            *the realization strikes her like a blow. miri opens her eyes and lets out a broken sound. none of it makes sense. this.. [..] what is this? the man standing before her feels unfamiliar. not because he has changed, but because she is seeing him clearly for the first time. the way he holds her. the way he remembers everything. the way he seems to have kept a record of her existence when she never noticed.*   W—who are you?
            
            /  nahhh i hate u  for this 

⠀⠀⠀   ⠀“you know nothing.” heave and lead wove itself, threaded with the sickle of coarse breath. the husk of it gave him away. he swallowed, pulled her closer, until he was molded against every part of her soul. the sound of his laughter had ceased to a low rumble, and something trickled past his right eye. Migizi couldn’t feel nor tell what slid past, but his gaze stayed rooted on miri’s mouth. he breathed only for his chest to rise. his heart pounded, his ears turned lofty in hearing, and he prayed no one turned back to search for them. for a moment, he prayed to heaven for peace—-a moment to hold what he never could in the past.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀@orfays
            
            &.     i only pray to God this Love survives. because it hurts worse. 

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀ “mad?” disbelief had no face in the forest, only a glimpse of green. there was only the marrow of today, only the sound of tragedy written and courted by the hand of the unseen. he couldn’t name it. it wounded his pride, and he breathed it out slowly, every prickle of quill buried against the shell of his back. Migizi squeezed her throat, slowly, a drag of breath across the sunken seas, rosemary oil trickling its course.
            
            ⠀⠀⠀     “i was there,” he spoke. it answered, the voice of thistle thorns embedded inside the grate of his tone. beneath the sound wake of promises, he’d kept every single one, each costing him more blood than relations. he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, not in the moment of utter betrayal. her bee stung lips moved with maddened conviction, and his chest rumbled with the sound of his own breath and voice. he couldn’t coincide with it; it sounded too thick, too betrayed, too wounded. his eyes glazed with unspoken merit, but gone as the boundary of time, and he knew—-God, he knew  (  ..  ) there was no going back from this. even as it came, he swallowed the thorns prickling his throat. Migizi shook; not in the loudest span of movement, but in a broken siege of laughter, and a love that never had the chance to be /redeemed./ he braced the large oak behind her, and the forest seemed alive, blinking in kinship with the pain sizzling inside him. it vibrated and hummed; he could feel the wind somewhere against his cheeks, the back of his knuckles, his nape. but that didn’t stop him from pressing her against the tree, lowering his head, drawing her forward as he inhaled her.

⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀ [⠀⠀⠀    ⠀battle. ceaseless as ever. or perhaps it was merely the thought of coming ruin. what was it? that effortless rift of choice, belonging neither to man nor immortal upon this accursed earth. slowly, almost imperceptibly, it took shape. /manifesting./clinging to decay. his gaze sharpened, narrowed beneath dark calculations. the wrench in his hand felt cool against his palm, though every passing second signalled his growing impatience. Migizi took a step forward. a foul stench stirred neath the spike of his boots. he gestured with the slightest tilt of his head, a silent form of communication born from long practice. then he moved past her, only to glance back over his shoulder. again, the same confirmation. he was willing to follow her lead. ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀for now. ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀]
            
            ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀    ⠀⠀ @appleseeds.

??

funny. i feel like i'm the one owed an apology after finding out my brother is alive, and somehow everyone knew except me

yes, 'OH.' Migizi

      ⠀ ⋆ ‎ح          these   two   for   me   please  !