etho may not know a lot about the gods, but he knows the man lying next to him is one.
it's something he's felt in his heart since the first time meeting him in this sunswept meadow, but something that took some time for his head to fully accept. now that he knows, though, it's hard for etho to imagine how he ever could've doubted the fact. bdubs is sunlight incarnate; he radiates gentle warmth, he smells of tangerines and honey. his hair is always soft, his skin always glows.
he must be a god— there's no other way to explain how he's so flawlessly perfect.
there's other things, too— other hints, other tells. how he sometimes speaks as though he's from centuries past. how etho's never seen him anywhere outside the meadow, and he seems to have no physical home— in this world, at least. how he's never here during the night, when it's raining, when clouds blot out the sky. how he wears something so different from any sort of earthly fashion and his clothes aren't made of any sort of fabric etho's ever seen. in fact, his cloak looks to be a curtain of living, growing moss.
etho's asked him once before: "bdubs, are you a god?" all he did in responce was chuckle (a sound that's so beautiful it's ethereal in and of itself) and pluck up another blade to add to the grass crown he'd been weaving together. if that's not an affirmative answer to his question, he doesn't know what is.
"you're so pretty," bdubs tells him now, braiding the stem of a daisy into his hair. etho feels like the luckiest man alive— a god who is the epitome of beauty is complimenting his looks. it takes him a minute to remember that this is real and not just some fantastical dream.
a calm breeze blows in, really nothing more than a stirring in the atmosphere. the grass sways minutely; the clouds floating overhead drift lazily across the sky. etho knows why bdubs comes here to rest: not only is it pretty and peaceful, but it almost feels as if it's an extension of the god himself. every part of how everything looks and moves reminds etho of him.
maybe the meadow was made for bdubs. maybe it was even made by him. etho doesn't know. there's so much he doesn't know about his companion and so much he wants to know, but he's patient. he'll wait until the god's ready to spill his interests and duties and secrets, and then he'll soak up the information like he's a flower in the desert, dehydrated and withering, and it's just rained.
ultimately, he's lucky just to be here, to have a god weaving flowers into his hair with such deft, gentle hands. he could learn nothing more about bdubs and still be content.
etho smiles and closes his eyes. he may not know a lot about gods, but he knows enough. he knows bdubs comes here to rest, to take a break from his godly duties. he knows most gods prefer to rest alone, yet bdubs lets him, a human, stay here with him while he relaxes and unwinds.
it's something special, something sacred, something unheard of.
etho wouldn't have it any other way.
***
author's note
word count: 550
title from millstatt by the arcadian wild.
god i love writing descriptory stuff but it takes so long! that's why you don't get it very often in my main fics lol
also i had such a hard time figuring out how to end this one. i wrote this before bed one night, and then i came back the next morning and tore out something like 100-150 words at the end of this and wrote something completely different (this all happened at like 8am btw. i'm not a morning person at all, so i have no clue how i managed to write something that was actually good)
anyways, i have more editing to do (i'm so close to finishing editing tcitg), so have a great day!
-blu
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depollute me, pretty baby (short, soft mcyt oneshots)
قصص الهواةsome short oneshots to make your day better (i hope). mostly hermitcraft and life series probably. title from we'll never have sex by leith ross
