@thornsong / ♡ .
in her heart holds access to a secret behind the shroud of fake faces and names and mysteries. in her heart she can see him for the boy he was once , a child , holding a hand out for the world that swatted it away and spat in his face and only gave him coldness to reap from it. she suffers , too , dented because of life’s insufferable regard , but she remains stronger than he ever can. each time he looks at her and wonders how - how can she tread the burning coals that just came with each breath to life ?
and he doesn’t even know half of what she has gone through.
she is suffering like him but carries it a different way , she clutches onto happiness as much as she wears it like a mask when she is hurting ( and he knows. ) only this time it has a genuine tint that graces her in an innocent way.
when she turns around he arches a brow , but it doesn’t take her long to return. alex , who sees spike’s different angles to him and can peek between the lines of his actions, has come back with a chair and pulled it in front of him. even if they both bloomed from childhood, she has yet to actually sprout.
a remark has crawled up his throat but stops behind his teeth and shut lips. soft petals made a soft press on his forehead and there’s a feeling that’s faint in his chest. familiar in so many ways , in so many lives’ memories , and he’s silent ———— there is an unknown urge but he doesn’t cave in. he has a feeling of what it is and he only presses it down further into the hole he’s kept for himself as safety – to dump away everything displeasing and troubling. even if this was a goodness .. something sinister can come from it with enough time. and yet a piece of himself wants to feel vulnerable just . this . once. genuine bordering his smile and lighting just a little bit of his living eye.
“ i could’ve bent down, y’know. “