[ Kissing her feels like nothing short of prayers being answered. As the dust around them whorls Cassian can feel the void in his heart and chest begin to fill. But instead of dust, dirt and sand, something technicolour pulses through his veins setting the stardust that flows through him alight.
It's a ridiculous, really. That the herald known as Brother Dirt is made of something cosmic and ancient and older than time itself. He's almost forgotten it himself that he is a child of the stars as much as Serenity is. Cassian has always been pragmatic about his ending, all too comfortable with the notion that in order for him to fulfill his duty as a herald of the fettered, it must be tied to his oblivion. It is a definite end point. Something he can depend on. Something that he knows to be true every time he crawls up from the dust and the dirt. It's why he's strayed further and further from his kin as the centuries have marched on - because his eventual end brings about pain for those that have been tethered to his life.
So wouldn't it be better not to bother reconnecting like this? To stay out of sight, to have only his presence be known in the whisper of dust in the corner of their domains? The taste of her on his tongue, the scent that envelops him, and the way every fibre of his being is lit up from the inside out says otherwise.
The stardust in his veins and the hunger in his heart knows her. It needs her. Faintly, something in him understands how dangerous of a feeling that is. The call for more, for a dependence on a herald who roams and is as free as he is is a self-fulfilling prophecy. For rebirth and renewal will always happen - but it will always leave too. It will come to an end. But until that time he will hold on. To her. To them.
Time seems to slow and he breaks their kiss only to press more to her cheeks, her nose, her neck. The howling pang of hunger quiets. ]
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It's a ridiculous, really. That the herald known as Brother Dirt is made of something cosmic and ancient and older than time itself. He's almost forgotten it himself that he is a child of the stars as much as Serenity is. Cassian has always been pragmatic about his ending, all too comfortable with the notion that in order for him to fulfill his duty as a herald of the fettered, it must be tied to his oblivion. It is a definite end point. Something he can depend on. Something that he knows to be true every time he crawls up from the dust and the dirt. It's why he's strayed further and further from his kin as the centuries have marched on - because his eventual end brings about pain for those that have been tethered to his life.
So wouldn't it be better not to bother reconnecting like this? To stay out of sight, to have only his presence be known in the whisper of dust in the corner of their domains? The taste of her on his tongue, the scent that envelops him, and the way every fibre of his being is lit up from the inside out says otherwise.
The stardust in his veins and the hunger in his heart knows her. It needs her. Faintly, something in him understands how dangerous of a feeling that is. The call for more, for a dependence on a herald who roams and is as free as he is is a self-fulfilling prophecy. For rebirth and renewal will always happen - but it will always leave too. It will come to an end. But until that time he will hold on. To her. To them.
Time seems to slow and he breaks their kiss only to press more to her cheeks, her nose, her neck. The howling pang of hunger quiets. ]
I missed you. Forgive me for forgetting?