There were few things warmer than Davi's hands, and even less than his breath against skin. Horus had walked across the hot sand of deserts and beaches from all corners of the Earth, drank the spiciest chai, and laid under the hot Egyptian sun. But all of those things felt cool in when compared to how easily Davi made him shiver when he blew the chill out of his bones in mere moments, when he woke with his back facing him, but his breath landed on the nape of his neck, overheating his body down to his toes. There was no other way to describe it — to describe him than pure magic. Had Horus not known the power behind his closest's friend's touch and words, he would have suspected he cast a spell on him.
His finger curled in his hands, and clenched when he let them go.
"Something similar, maybe." He whispered quickly before the Madame joined them again. They were like-minded flames, powerfully attuned to their emotions and with a great love for love itself, desiring and yearning for the
one. Whereas it once had been a lonely experience of waiting and searching, Horus found ease in it when he was sitting with Davi.
Taking his milk chai in his hands, he wrapped his fingers around the steaming cup. They were no longer frozen sticks, but the absence of Davi's hands left a new coldness he hoped to fight against. Still, like all other things, it could not beat it or compare to it.
His eyes look up from his drink and to the glowing orb in front of them. Once again, that familiar excitement shot through him from his stomach as the candles began to flicker. He rocked forward, ready to take the opportunity to asking, something, anything, but was surprised by Davi offering to go first. He didn't seem as eager given his question already prepared, though the reason as to why became more obvious once it was asked.
"Will I end up with the man I love?"
Horus shot his head in Davi's direction.
He considered himself a master of the English language. He had written many poems in it, playing on its syntax and etymology, metaphors and all other tropes alike, bending the rules of meaning and delivery. But he thought twice, thrice, again about the posed question Davi gave.The question he asked held the implication that he knew the man he loved. Or more so when he suddenly changed from his original question.
If Davi knew the man he loved, why wouldn't he have told Horus? He was his best friend, his bosom friend. They spared no expenses in telling one another anything, or Horus had thought they did. As quickly as the ideal entered his head, the guilt for thinking such a negative thought of his friend swiftly followed after, pooling in his belling and burning his heart. It wasn't fair to assume that he would or should tell him everything. Especially when there was only an implication of the meaning behind his inquiry and not fact.
Just as the orb on the table between them, Madame Tully's eyes changed in color into a pale blue. The way they widened at whatever she witnessed in the ball made his already upset stomach twist. When they softened again with knowing knowledge, he leaned back into his seat and waited with tight knuckles for the answer.
"The future is never set, always twisting and turning. For your question, I saw two paths. One where your lover in everything but name fades from your side, and one where the moon whispers tales of your romance to the stars. Your heart holds many secrets, but it knows the path it seeks. You only need to let it guide you." The woman spoke clearly, though ended her words softly to Davi.
"Somewhat cryptic.." Horus mumbled to himself, more disappointed in knowing how her answered implied more that there was someone there. Possibly.
She laughed, more amused by Horu's comment than anything else. Horus found his face burning at the fact that she heard, and more so at her response. He was quick to add.
"But very romantic." He place his hand atop of Davi's and squeezed it, tighter than he was aware of as he told him.
"And I hope the best for you." He meant it, even if he didn't meet his green eyes, nor felt at his best.
"And what would you like to know?" Madame Tully called back to attention.
Within all the time he was given to think, he hadn't thought of a real question to ask. Now on the spot, his mind drew a blank. His already face only burned brighter.
"I-" He took a moment to drink from his chai, taking a large gulp and immediately regretting it. He coughed, burning his tongue and quickly pulling the cup away from him which only made him spill more of his drink on himself and hand. He jumped up from his seat and hurriedly set down his cup and cried when it fell over, soiling the table.
"I'm so sorry!" He cried as he shook his burned hand and reached for anything to clean up the mess.
