Page 192 of Discordant Cultivation

I’ve kept you safe from drowning in the depths you cannot see,

And now you want to swim alone? How ungrateful can you be?

You say you’re strong, you say you’re ready, but I know you better;

I’ve read every page of you, each paragraph, each letter.

When the world comes crashing down with its unforgiving weight,

You’ll come crawling back to me, and I’ll be worth the wait…”

Kieran slumped back into the vulnerable posture, that uncertain voice taking hold again:

“Your love’s a poison apple wrapped in ribbons red as blood,

You keep me in a garden but you’re drowning me in mud.

I’ve seen what lies beyond these walls, I’ve tastedsomething pure;

And I don’t need your bitter pills to keep me feeling sure…”

This isn’t a love song. This is our story.

The audience was captivated, hanging on every word as Kieran switched between the vulnerable first voice and the commanding second, even mimicking Vale’s posture and mannerisms when the perspective changed.

There was no traditional chorus, just this strange, hypnotic cadence set to music that sunk into Vale’s pores radiation, permanently altering the structures of his cells. When Kieran’s voice took on Vale’s tone again, the words cut through him like a blade:

“You think you want the sunlight, but you’re creature of the night;

You think you crave the gentle touch, but you hunger for the bite.

I know the way you shiver when I trace those pretty scars,

I know you love the way I hurt, the way I raise the bars…”

Each line layered meaning upon meaning, and Vale knew he’d need to hear Kieran sing this again and again, dissecting every nuance.

Even hunched in the nervous posture of his uncertain voice, Kieran delivered the final confession with devastating honesty:

“Hold me close and hurt me deep, I know that’s how you care;

Run your fingers through my wounds, your knives right through my hair.

I’m sorry that I doubted you, I’m sorry that I ran;

You’re not my curse, you’re all I have... you’re all I understand…”

Vale caught a sob in his throat, twisting the tissue Nox had given him as the magnitude of this moment crashed over him. This wasn’t just a song—it was a proposal and wedding vows sung in front of ten thousand witnesses. He wanted to carve the pattern from the wedding ring he’d bought weeks ago into Kieran’s flesh. He wanted to brand his racing heartbeat inside Kieran’s skull and let Kieran do the same to him.

“That’s my good boy, that’s my love, now you remember your place;

In my arms where you belong, in my tenderest embrace.

I’ll never let you go again, I’ll never let you leave,

We’re bound by blood and pain and all the lies we both believe.

So sleep now in my burning bed, dream of chains that feel like silk,