( the gory reminder of his decapitation is also long forgotten in her mind, effectively shrouded in her own intense misery and the appropriate embarrassment for having admitted it with her face pressed into venti's shoulder. there are bigger thoughts at play now, like choosing why she'd seek out religion in the first place and what she hopes to gain from it. but later, long after they've parted, she'll reread that text conversation and kick herself for not following through on that solemn oath. not a god and follower dynamic, just a human to "human" moment and the deep desire to spare venti the grief of looking at that image over and over again when he didn't have to, when it did nothing but hurt him.
but in the moment — that swirl of wind is just as fully distracting as always. then in the same beat, venti begins to sing in answer to her request.
they're beautiful words, no matter the disconnect between languages. she doesn't know what he's truly singing about, yet listens intently as if she might be able to parse out meanings in a different language she's unfamiliar with. mostly clarke just watches venti's face as he projects the aria in an enclosed space, and when the intoxicating strains of song fade, she has questions.
no subject
but in the moment — that swirl of wind is just as fully distracting as always. then in the same beat, venti begins to sing in answer to her request.
they're beautiful words, no matter the disconnect between languages. she doesn't know what he's truly singing about, yet listens intently as if she might be able to parse out meanings in a different language she's unfamiliar with. mostly clarke just watches venti's face as he projects the aria in an enclosed space, and when the intoxicating strains of song fade, she has questions.
she always has questions, doesn't she. )
It's beautiful but... what does it mean?