Noüx Noctaire.
IX.ㅤㅤ
Kindred hearts crossed paths with their fates other half long before destiny spoke them. ("Inked leaf I".)
The bond declares that which has no end, as if it had been etched long before our eyes ever learned each other’s language. Inside the knot time refuses to untie, the heart remembers an ache it has longed for despite an unseen cause. My dear, perhaps I would fain examine that supposal with you. "Even so, would you tether your soul to mine?"
The name inscribed, Noüx Noctaire. A soul akin to mine esteems the inward depth of a bond over mere intensity, because intensity has a way of demanding more than some hearts can afford. Therefore, you may find me to be a calming presence rather than the one can suffocate you. Believe me, I shall not depart from your side, but in a way that ensures you are never forsaken. To lead in relationship is not to hold the reins too tightly, but to walk ahead just enough that my companion knows where to rest their faith. I endeavor toward that becoming, a refuge where someone can lean on, where someone can trust that I am there for you. I may appear to have matured with experience in my calm manner and flowery speech. My words sound dull when laid bare, don’t they? Plainness has a way of dulling the air, I suppose. Mystery, on the other hand, leaves room for wonder. I must confess, I harbor a mischievous side, unafraid to be chatty nor I have reason to be, if only to paint warmth into your otherwise orderly days. Listening is more appealing to me than idle chatter. Seen from that angle, I yearn to know you more wholly. I can easily remember the little things you might consider unimportant. Yet longing refuses to be taught silence, those things draw the heart back to its unfinished sentences, and I keep you within a devotion sealed behind my ribs.
You may harbour curiosity about me and the things that stir my heart, but I am at a loss to set it forth, my tastes being manifold and as unfathomed as our love, which will evermore take root. We can learn what you love and what I love, slowly, until they blur and behold as one. On my behalf, bearing moments alongside you is dearer than all else.
Bleed your words as if I am the last place left, so we can write our chronica in heaven. We shall kindle this tender bond filled with love's surety. If devotion has a voice, maybe this is how it sounds. A man willing to lay his life down, yet wise enough to know that love clenched too tightly ends in loss all the same. So I hold you the way one holds sand at low tide, gently enough to keep it from slipping away, never tight enough to pretend it can be owned. My heart is reserved for those who have earned a heaven in my chest. If you are reading this, then perhaps you already know you belong among those.
"Fated to be the one to whom I devote myself."