"mornin light" by e ampora
It's a quiet mornin, the second Alternian moon movvin evver so slowwly ovver the horizon an makin wway for the bright sun that wwill be soon to rise. The sea is tame as wwell, lappin up at the sandy beach so quietly that you could fuckin swwear it knowws the wworld is headin to their recuperacoons around it. Evverythins wworkin together to form this perfect settin, wwhere evven thoughts are hushed into silence by the serene feel a the moon's final rays.
I find myself perched out by the shore, my shoes just barely out a reach a the wwavves glidin to an fro, wwith my hand reachin forwward to skim the surface a the wwater. In the past, this wwould havve been vviewwed as my idea a perfection. All I wwould havve needed is my rifle at my side- my arabs crosshairs- an I wwould havve been content, wwaitin for the early sleepers a the sea an land to be unguarded enough to make for perfect prey.
I hadn't noticed things had changed so much. The scenery is the same- it's not as if the sea itself or the mornin sky is goin to change any time soon-, an evven the mood is exactly as it should be; calm an peaceful. But I'm not the same I used to be, I'vve changed through the swweeps an I'vve growwn in wways the landscape cannot. There's no wweapon beside me because I don't need it, I'm not wwaitin to make short wwork a someone else's lusus.
My fingers skitter across the surface a the salty wwater, splashin along with pitter-patterin noises as they go. This isn't perfection to me, anymore, but it's still awfully fuckin close. It registers belatedly in my thinkpan that there's a noise comin from behind me, that I'm no longer alone sittin an wwaitin in the late mornin light.
"What are you doing?" Kar asks, an his vvoice is softer than it used to be. He doesn't yell so much anymore, havvin growwn more passivve as his personality stopped bein curled up tight inside a him, like some sorta wwound up machine that wwould spiral out a control if you didn't keep a constant hand on it.
I don't havve an answwer for him, an so he continues to wwalk closer. "Eridan," he starts again, restin his hand on my shoulder momentarily before sittin dowwn beside me, "It's almost daybreak." It's obvvious he's implyin I should be gettin to sleep, an a quick look at him from the corner a my ocular orbs confirms that he's dressed in his baggy purple pajamas, hijacked from me so long ago.
"Yeah." I reply, taking a hold a his hand an shiftin the wway I sit so I can pull him into my lap. "An it's fuckin beautiful, isn't it?"
He leans against my chest an givves a small nod. It's too late in the mornin for him, an I can feel his breathin shalloww as he unintentionally starts driftin off.
But that's wwhat I'm learnin perfection is; it's not the moment wwhen youre wwaitin for your prey, or the sound a the mornin wwavves as they come up upon the beach. It's bein able to havve all a these, an share them wwith your pity partner.
Cause evven the perfect moment can be made better wwhen you're not alone.
