3 Works by ephemeros
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Summary
Kazuha regards him coolly, face near-inscrutable. Once upon a time, Scaramouche would be able to read it as though it were his own; now, all he can make of it is the quiet indecision before he responds. “What would we have to say to each other?”
This isn’t the friend he remembers from sun-warm strolls around the city; this one is cold around the edges, taut thread waiting to snap. Scaramouche almost doesn’t manage to stifle his flinch. There’s something here that’s threatening to boil over, spill itself, consume the violent whole of him. It’s difficult to think. He reaches, reaches, reaches—
Something. Anything. “I missed you.”
(Or: meteorites, ghost stories, and assembling the remnants of a dying dream.)
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She pulls up her stockings, red vanishing behind the white covering. Vanishing is the correct word, because as soon as it disappears from your sight, she shoots a sunny smile your way and gets up with no visible effort. “Morning! I’m going to make porridge, do you want some?”
Valentina is a stitched quilt of secrets; you’re simply fortunate enough to know more than most, and even if this whole wound situation is nothing unusual anymore, what you know is enough for you to worry. “Don’t you want to sit down?”
“Thanks for your concern.” she says, already having washed her hands and currently reaching for the lingonberries you’d harvested with the children yesterday. “Porridge?”
(Or: the local assassin keeps coming back to your home for reasons unspecified, and you might be a little in love with her.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,339
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 19
- Hits:
- 296
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Summary
There is a seal coat in John Laurens's attic.