#dynamic: ian x lumen.
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@sainterror said, “My life has been stolen from me, time and time again. I will not let it happen once more.”
She’s accepted a cigarette, and his procured light. She’s halfway through the smoke when he takes his first drag.
“You’re special,” and that meant she was ripe for harvest - Ian saw special dissected. This world did not welcome outsiders, this world did not welcome special, or different. “And so they eat.”
Her. Him. Kindred. He was keenly aware so much had been stolen from her that he could never understand too. His arm envelops her, tugs her figure against his shoulder, hugging her close.
“This is a good place,” it’s a whisper - in case the outsiders were listening, in case the outsiders came looking to harvest, and to eat, “it’s a safe place,” this was home, home beyond homes. “You can do whatever you want here.”
There they determined what they could be, who they could be.
“You’re free,” wings left tucked could spread and unfurl, his other hand strokes her hair softly, “no one is going to take anything from you, ever again.” It’s a promise he can swear he can keep.
No one would find them here.
“We are untouchable here, because we’re special.”
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