rmmoonsik:
he watches the undead fish take flight beneath the waters, posidonia dancing around its fins like ribbons, eyes alight with a wonder he thought had tempered with age. in death, the corpse takes on a more artful life, and there’s some great comfort to be found in the thought of finding new purpose once everything else had been exhausted. “incredible,” he breathes, and he turns to her, dark gaze tender. “are you ever frightened by it?”
the question fills the space before them, and he props his head on his elbow, lounges beside her, breathes in the night air, and her. “that’s all i can see. every place is alive with soul, you can’t go two paces without running into a spirit, whether you know it or not. why,i spotted a deceased counselor blowing a leaf whistle while i was looking for the bathroom.” he smiles faintly. “funny pair, aren’t we? how intimate we bot are with different parts of death.”
he laughs, and it is a water-ripple sound that spreads colour through her cheeks like such, girl quick to hide faces into the crook of her own shoulder despite the darkness that folds over them, leaving everything shadow. still, she hides soft eyes from him, softer smiles pressed to shirts at his words. “if you would like me to, i… i’ve never been in a dream before, i think. it would be a nice change.” eyes are stars of their own when they look back at him, half-squinted in their smile. “you must either be brave or foolish. why would you be so unafraid while everyone’s running the other way?”
fingers curl lighty and swimming bodies become corpses again, leaf and plant slowly falling into the water until the body becomes limp again, sinking slowly. she waits until she can feel the body hit the seabed underneath them before answering, quiet. “always. are you, of your powers? it scares me, sometimes, to have control over a world i’m not a part of.”
she smiles in return, matching his in all its moonlit softness. it is easy to rest heads like this, to be close to something living like this, if it’s him - both dying, death-riddling things and of course, what irony it is to feel some semblance of life in this quiet moment. “and living things? do you see their souls too?” she pulls knees up to chins, wraps her arms around them and makes herself a child again. smiles as sweetly as one at his words, lips curved lightly. “a funny pair.” she echoes. “if this is a death, then maybe it isn’t so bad. just like this.”




















