Then - sounding considerably farther away and hollow to his ears, touch, soul, and everything else - there was a heavy thud as a long object fell to the grass next to Tethys’ prone body. He felt like he should maybe recognize it; it was dangerous, maybe. Yet, he couldn’t be very concerned about it for some reason.
A second thud was quickly drowned out by life itself rushing back like a dam broken. Colors, light, understanding, and oh, him, himhimhim. Krishna. Those golden eyes that he remembered from donut shops, sports, dates, and, once, bedsheets. Tethys didn’t care how he was off of the ground now or anything in between, because Krishna was staring down at him and he clung to it like an anchor.
“Krishna,” he smiled weakly, his emotions acting out in response before his brain could catch up with something more eloquent. In much the same way, a shriek bubbled up quickly as the sensation on his back returned and reported a whole mess of injuries: pinwheel cuts, bruised ribs, the cosmic equivalent to a bull in a china closet. With a large gasp, Tethys bit his lip to put a cap on it. That’s not what he wanted he wanted to think about right now.
“Fffff... N-not super romantic, huh? Hahaaa…” The laugh was about 50% hiss, but his heart was in it.
Quicksilver the Archangel