@crasswolf said: “ i don’t need to be a hero, but perhaps i’ll learn to be heroic ”
There’s still so many things she doesn’t know about him. All this time, and today still, she attributed, and attributes, his discreet secrecy to his demeanor: he’s not quiet ( not like she is ), but for all his wit, and his ease-of-conversation, and his supposed straightforwardness, and how often they talk, he’s managed to keep the most important things locked away. But even despite all that, she’s never taken it personally. Not everyone’s as ready to part with their scars as she is— has always been— after all. It’s one of the reasons she’s grown to cherish those quiet moments. Ones like this, like now; when his words hang back behind his lips while he looks at her from the corner of his eyes, like he’s not all-too sure if he’s ready to part with them just yet. She settles her hands in her lap, curls her fingers against the sharp bite of the evening wind, giving him ample time to sit comfortably in the quiet nestled between them, interrupted only by the occasional whistle of wind brushing through the trees. It’s nice like this— he knows she likes companionable silence; knows that as readily as she seeks out solitude, there’s only a few things she dislikes more than being alone. Just as he knows her, she likes to think she knows him, too.
❛ Feeling pensive? ❜ She tilts her head back, pointing her gaze up towards the stars. She’s missed the night-sky more than she’s missed other, more tangible things. ❛ It’s a pretty nice sentiment, if you feel like being humble. But you know what I think? ❜ —soft-spoken, like a secret she’s only ever told, and will ever tell, him. ❛ No reason you can’t be both. Manner makes man, right? Heroes are only heroes when other people tell them they are; when what they do warrants it. Besides, with how heroes these days are expected to look, ❜ her smile makes its appearance, effectively dispelling the heavy air of sobriety, ❛ I’d say you’re already well on your way there, Yuri-bird. ❜