It used to warmer, he thought
ah-hah back at it again with the august and amek angst *bits lip sexily*. anyways this towards end of story where they're both mentally wrung out to all hell and miscommunicating like no tomorrow (ame 26 Aug 24). Amek asks August why his mandibles are out so often (spoiler: stress and trauma response, not pog). warning for sadge-ish ending.
The leaves were brown.
Not a golden brown, or a warm brown. Just brown.
(It used to warmer, he thought)
August’s gaze fell to the trees outside his balcony, traced the paths of gnarled roots up to an overcast sky. Daharus, his kingdom. Even with the slight breeze that ruffled his fur, the air tasted stale. His chest ached.
(His chest ached)
With a heavy breath, he settled down, curling his tail around himself, and watched the clouds slowly, so slowly, shift.
He didn’t stir as the leaves rustled behind him, or as another sat beside him. The scent of rain hit his nose, and Ame’s side brushed his. A tail fell ontop his back. The tip of it started to rub gentle circles into his fur.
“Your mandibles are out, August.” Amek said softly.
After a moment, he blinked. That’s true. They were. Now he was distinctly aware of the pinch of the joints extending them outwards, irritated after so many hours of doing so. The weight of the hard-exoskeleton hanging from his jaws. How, if he wished, he could fold them back into his mouth with a simple motion.
(But he wouldn’t, couldn’t. The mere thought made his pulse race)
(What if it wasn’t Amek who had approached him. His flesh was still bruised from the last assassination attempt)
(It made him look stronger anyways. Formidable. And that was good. That was good.)
(That’s what he should want.)
“They are.” August responded, his mandibles twitching under the attention. It sent a small spark of pain through the overworked joints, but that was fine. He didn’t show it, so it was fine.
For some reason, his response only made Amek wilt further, their face crumbling with reluctant understanding.
They chanced a weak smile. “It’s only me here. Why don’t you put them away just for a bit. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
August looked to his paws, thinking. The longer he considered it, the tighter his chest felt, and Amek had leaned closer to him in his hesitance.
There was a strand of dry grass caught between his pawpads.
(how easy it would be to brea-)
August shook his head, his chest shuddering on another weighted exhale. He shut his eyes and rested his head on the ground, not caring enough to adjust as a twig poked into his neck.
(And with his eyes closed he missed it.)
(Missed the millisecond of hurt, of defeat, in Ame’s eyes.)