10-20-2018, 10:39 PM
[align=center][div style="width:500px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4; letter-spacing: .5px"]/ this is messy af i haven't written him in a long time
If there was one thing that he should have trusted, it was that the world would always find a way to right its own wrongs. Theseus had learned to expect the worst of the world  every good thing would be followed by a bad one, or the longest period of mediocrity, of things being just barely okay. He would cling to the edge of a cliff by his fingertips, and one day he would finally crawl back up. Or fall. Either way was better than the in-between, the worrying. And eventually, with all of that time there to burn at the muscles of his forearms as he hung there and waited, he started to think. The equilibrium was a part of life, and with that came the expectation of change. And oh, how things had changed for him. For a while, it had been a sort of high that he couldn't come down from. He just floated in the clouds. Now it was a comfortable, reasonable warmth, the sky held in his chest. He felt good, but in control.
He can't afford not to be these days, with a child on his hip. A small babbling bundle that giggled and tugged at his ears. She was everything to him, freckle-faced and bright, with her (other) dad's lips and his own slight curl to her downy hair. This was how his dad felt, holding a child to his chest through the winter because he couldn't keep up and couldn't stay warm. Mariette is much smaller than he had been at the time, and more vulnerable because of it. She's wrapped up in blankets and sharing his body heat, making quiet cooing noises as they walk. He can feel tiny hands curling into his shirt and tugging. "You're so impatient," Theo laughs, ducking his head to murmur the words against her hair as she reaches for his face. "We'll be there soon, kiddo. Shh, it's warmer there."
If there was one thing that he should have trusted, it was that the world would always find a way to right its own wrongs. Theseus had learned to expect the worst of the world  every good thing would be followed by a bad one, or the longest period of mediocrity, of things being just barely okay. He would cling to the edge of a cliff by his fingertips, and one day he would finally crawl back up. Or fall. Either way was better than the in-between, the worrying. And eventually, with all of that time there to burn at the muscles of his forearms as he hung there and waited, he started to think. The equilibrium was a part of life, and with that came the expectation of change. And oh, how things had changed for him. For a while, it had been a sort of high that he couldn't come down from. He just floated in the clouds. Now it was a comfortable, reasonable warmth, the sky held in his chest. He felt good, but in control.
He can't afford not to be these days, with a child on his hip. A small babbling bundle that giggled and tugged at his ears. She was everything to him, freckle-faced and bright, with her (other) dad's lips and his own slight curl to her downy hair. This was how his dad felt, holding a child to his chest through the winter because he couldn't keep up and couldn't stay warm. Mariette is much smaller than he had been at the time, and more vulnerable because of it. She's wrapped up in blankets and sharing his body heat, making quiet cooing noises as they walk. He can feel tiny hands curling into his shirt and tugging. "You're so impatient," Theo laughs, ducking his head to murmur the words against her hair as she reaches for his face. "We'll be there soon, kiddo. Shh, it's warmer there."
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THERE IS NOTHING MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN BEING DESPERATE
｢ AND THERE IS NOTHING MORE RISKY THAN PRETENDING NOT TO CARE. | PINTEREST. ｣