Work Text:
He finds himself watching dust motes, lazy in the sunshine.
It’s odd, how much he never noticed, back when his mind captured everything.
The dust motes dance in the sunbeam from Alys’s tall windows, rising and falling with no destination, no hurry.
There’s so much significance in insignificant things, he’d never noticed.
Simon sits and waits for Alys. She told him when she’d be back, but he’s forgotten. It’s alright, he’s in no hurry. The sun is warm, and he is learning about peace from dust motes.