there was any
doubt about who Iris was, it’s gone.
I scoop Del into my
lap and pick up my guitar and settle next to the door, leaning against it and
picking out a quiet accompaniment to go with Iris's soft croon. I can almost
hear the smile in her voice when it climbs, meeting my soft strumming.
I want to drag her
out of the shower, want to drag her to me and kiss the babble from her lips and
smooth the worried wrinkled frown from her brow.
I want to see her
eyes cloudy with Sight and watch them brighten and clear as she smiles at me.
Time. Time. Give
her time and space.
Del always dealt
with my Sight differently. Sometimes by running, sometimes by shutting down
completely, turning into little more than a shell of the girl I was so used to
seeing.
I never really knew
what to expect until it was upon us, but I learned very quickly to let her have
space and time.
She had to come to
accept her Sight without my help.
It wasn't something
I could make easier.
So I sit outside
the bathroom and Del curls up in my lap and sleeps while I play the guitar and
the steam seeps under the door and Iris hums softly to herself. I sit there, my hands clenched
on my guitar, the strings silent and my head down, when she sobs.
I sit there and
stroke Del's head and she is the only one who knows that my hands are shaking,
when Iris screams and her voice breaks, babble and senseless words that are
prophecy.
I sit there until
the sun begins to set and I wonder if I will need to stay here all night as
well.
When my head thumps
back, exhausted, on the door. That's when she moves.
The water goes
silent first, and then I hear the soft whisper of her moving, her skin brushing
against the worn towel I had on the sink. The rough stretch of fabric as she
dresses. Wet hair slapping bare skin and
the delicate pad of her bare feet on the wet tile before the door handle
squeaks alarmingly and she pulls it open and peers down at me in all her wet
hair, red - eyed
glory.
She looks,
adorably, like a drown rat.
And still lovely.
I smile up at her.
"Hello, Iris ," I murmur, and Del
peeks up at her, mewing in curious greeting.
"What,"
she asks, her voice shaky and rough from screaming and crying, "the fuck
did you do to me?"
I blink at her,
because of all the things I expected her to ask, that was the least of them.
"Apollo.
That's your name. I fucked you and now the entire city is lit up like some kind
of psychic Christmas tree and I can see every fucking possible future there
ever was. Do you have any idea how
fucking trippy that is? I feel like my head is splitting open and I'm being
yanked into a hundred - thousand
pieces."
I shift and she
groans, her eyes clenched closed as the threads that wrap around me twist
tighter and flare in her vision.
I know what she's
seeing. I know that she's almost blinded by the brightness that is my
lifelines.
She's a human girl,
after all, and I am a god. She might be my chosen, but she will never be able
to look at my lifelines without it burning, too bright painful.
"Don't look at
me," I murmur, and she huffs angrily, but obediently directs her gaze away
from me, to the kitten in my lap and she snarls softly.
"Why does the
cat have no threads?"
I glance at Del.
"Does she not?" I ask, startled.
How did I miss
that? Was I really so lost in my own madness that I didn't realize that the cat
had no destiny?
She frowns at me.
" What the fuck does it
mean, that she's got no magic light show?"
I ignore her
question. "You asked what I did. I need you to understand that I couldn't
have done this to you without your consent. I never would have. I don't force
my gift where it's not wanted."
Well. There was
that one time, with Cassandra, but that was complicated and I still feel guilty
for it.
That was more about
my aunt than it was Cassandra.
It wasn't a good
time in our collective history, and certainly not in mine.
" Apollo !" Iris shouts, and Del's
claws dig into my thigh, jerking me out of my
doubt about who Iris was, it’s gone.
I scoop Del into my
lap and pick up my guitar and settle next to the door, leaning against it and
picking out a quiet accompaniment to go with Iris's soft croon. I can almost
hear the smile in her voice when it climbs, meeting my soft strumming.
I want to drag her
out of the shower, want to drag her to me and kiss the babble from her lips and
smooth the worried wrinkled frown from her brow.
I want to see her
eyes cloudy with Sight and watch them brighten and clear as she smiles at me.
Time. Time. Give
her time and space.
Del always dealt
with my Sight differently. Sometimes by running, sometimes by shutting down
completely, turning into little more than a shell of the girl I was so used to
seeing.
I never really knew
what to expect until it was upon us, but I learned very quickly to let her have
space and time.
She had to come to
accept her Sight without my help.
It wasn't something
I could make easier.
So I sit outside
the bathroom and Del curls up in my lap and sleeps while I play the guitar and
the steam seeps under the door and Iris hums softly to herself. I sit there, my hands clenched
on my guitar, the strings silent and my head down, when she sobs.
I sit there and
stroke Del's head and she is the only one who knows that my hands are shaking,
when Iris screams and her voice breaks, babble and senseless words that are
prophecy.
I sit there until
the sun begins to set and I wonder if I will need to stay here all night as
well.
When my head thumps
back, exhausted, on the door. That's when she moves.
The water goes
silent first, and then I hear the soft whisper of her moving, her skin brushing
against the worn towel I had on the sink. The rough stretch of fabric as she
dresses. Wet hair slapping bare skin and
the delicate pad of her bare feet on the wet tile before the door handle
squeaks alarmingly and she pulls it open and peers down at me in all her wet
hair, red - eyed
glory.
She looks,
adorably, like a drown rat.
And still lovely.
I smile up at her.
"Hello, Iris ," I murmur, and Del
peeks up at her, mewing in curious greeting.
"What,"
she asks, her voice shaky and rough from screaming and crying, "the fuck
did you do to me?"
I blink at her,
because of all the things I expected her to ask, that was the least of them.
"Apollo.
That's your name. I fucked you and now the entire city is lit up like some kind
of psychic Christmas tree and I can see every fucking possible future there
ever was. Do you have any idea how
fucking trippy that is? I feel like my head is splitting open and I'm being
yanked into a hundred - thousand
pieces."
I shift and she
groans, her eyes clenched closed as the threads that wrap around me twist
tighter and flare in her vision.
I know what she's
seeing. I know that she's almost blinded by the brightness that is my
lifelines.
She's a human girl,
after all, and I am a god. She might be my chosen, but she will never be able
to look at my lifelines without it burning, too bright painful.
"Don't look at
me," I murmur, and she huffs angrily, but obediently directs her gaze away
from me, to the kitten in my lap and she snarls softly.
"Why does the
cat have no threads?"
I glance at Del.
"Does she not?" I ask, startled.
How did I miss
that? Was I really so lost in my own madness that I didn't realize that the cat
had no destiny?
She frowns at me.
" What the fuck does it
mean, that she's got no magic light show?"
I ignore her
question. "You asked what I did. I need you to understand that I couldn't
have done this to you without your consent. I never would have. I don't force
my gift where it's not wanted."
Well. There was
that one time, with Cassandra, but that was complicated and I still feel guilty
for it.
That was more about
my aunt than it was Cassandra.
It wasn't a good
time in our collective history, and certainly not in mine.
" Apollo !" Iris shouts, and Del's
claws dig into my thigh, jerking me out of my
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