[ Gideon used to think it was easy to die. It was a secret she'd kept for months, one she learned from someone ten thousand years her elder. You just check out. You just let it happen. You never have to see this: the work of people mourning you, words and objects collected to call you back, or at least trap your memory. Gideon does not take her eyes off the sword, or the things surrounding it, for a long moment.
(Harrow made herself into this. First Harrow, and now everyone else, and it would have been kinder if Gideon had driven the sword directly into each of their chests instead, wouldn't it?)
She barely registers Ortus until he's close by. When her eyes focus on his, they're shining damp. She's been crying so much lately. It's so embarrassing.
So embarrassing that she might as well go all in, and throw her arms around Ortus when he reaches for her shoulder, praying that she'll feel at least some of his skin or clothes against hers. ]
What, you thought a bit of water was going to keep me down?
cw: mentions of past suicide
(Harrow made herself into this. First Harrow, and now everyone else, and it would have been kinder if Gideon had driven the sword directly into each of their chests instead, wouldn't it?)
She barely registers Ortus until he's close by. When her eyes focus on his, they're shining damp. She's been crying so much lately. It's so embarrassing.
So embarrassing that she might as well go all in, and throw her arms around Ortus when he reaches for her shoulder, praying that she'll feel at least some of his skin or clothes against hers. ]
What, you thought a bit of water was going to keep me down?