" gods don’t care about what might have been. "⠀sookhee⠀/⠀nathyuul⠀ᵕ̈
poetry meme ( accepting ) + @thrillcr // nathyuul
"I thought you didn’t work for the Gods.” they stand outside, they smoke by the river; the both of them, but cut outs of figures as they brave the cold that she believes only she feels. A jacket that drapes over her shoulders in a bored elegance that she’s coopted in an attempt to feel more UNBOTHERED by life than she really is. Then again, when you deal with death, it’s hard not to feel touched by much within this world, how you broker with a person’s life, the way in which they’ll find their end. Names in a book. Money on a contract. It’s funny, how it warps her perception of all things, all tracing back to being a child herself and watching to all come to a head before her own eyes. Happiness, she’s learned, can be snapped in an instant. It’s better to not be attached to many things at all.
What might have been, what could have been. She supposes he’s right. All that ever mattered was what was, for better or for worse. IT DID NOT MEAN that these things did not matter... but perhaps it leaned in on the fact that those with the powers to sway things, to other means, cared not enough for those on the receiving end to meddle. Or even to notice. Perhaps it is why Nathyuul himself is so terribly unbothered with the numbers of those jotted down within - life. Death. A name is a name is a name, and nothing more. The contents of the soul were irrelevant. Sookhee exhales - smoke from her cigarette, swirling skywards. “Perhaps the Gods do not, but the Devil is the one that torments you at the art of what might have been. I suppose it’d a difference of opinion, then.”
