[private] Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Tephra (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=85) +------ Forum: Islandres (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=42) +------ Thread: [private] Holding you close feels like a cut throat (/showthread.php?tid=22598) |
Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Sabra - 01-16-2019 And just like that, everything was different. Different had been following me, curling against my heels like a persistent tide and promising me soon, soon. But I hadn't expected it, not like this. Not thrown into my face when I'd only been seeking distraction. I'd left her standing there, walking away as fast as I could without losing what remained of my dignity. The pretty lights bled together through the tears that had begun to gather in my eyes the moment I turned away. I was alone again. Stumbling through the crowd, breaking against it with too-quick breaths, hearing whispers of the recent news. By the time I'd stumbled into a less crowded zone, the words sank in. He was here. Of course he was. And he was... a success. The success I'd always known he'd held inside himself, even when I got too angry to say it. Away from it all, I had to get away. Wings clutched to my sides in a desperate embrace, I moved without seeing. Crashed into a solid wall. Screamed in surprise, bit it back quickly. "Forgive me, I wasn't looking... where I was... going." Fuck. Panting lightly, I blinked hard, trying to pretend that tears didn't track down my face. That my voice hadn't dwindled to a thread when I recognized the patterned skin I'd run full-tilt into, or the scent (brimstone and blood laced with her), or the shape of him. My eyes fell shut for a moment, a hundred excuses flickering through my mind only to be discarded. A thought from before reiterated itself; this was a mistake. Teeth gritting against each other, I willed a mask of silk and steel across my features, head lifted higher but still not quite making eye contact. "Castile. I didn't know you'd be here." My voice came out, steadier than I'd thought it would be, holding his name on my tongue like something forbidden. Pulling my wings closer about myself, I gestured back the way I'd come from. "There's a mare looking for you. Suki or Sochi, or some such." I paused, nearly choking on the name. Still, there was no accusation in my tone. Just level diplomacy interrupted by the occasional traitorous hiccup. "She seems..." I reached desperately for some moderately pleasant descriptor but came up empty, leaving the half-made sense hanging on uneven breath. Biting my lip, I cast my gaze back in his direction, looking past his shoulder into the empty darkness. The abruptness of our last meeting weighed on me, driving guilt through my belly with hungry claws. Healed past what should have been natural, the jagged bite mark on my crest was now nothing more than a silvery scar, only a little raised from the surrounding flesh. Still, it tingled with acute awareness now, a token of my lack of wisdom. Shrugging lightly, my vision spun upward, looking everywhere, anywhere, but at him. The stars began to blur again, the cowards. "I was hoping I'd get the chance. To say how sorry I was, for pushing you. I wasn't being fair. You deserved- deserve, better. And it looks like... I'm happy you've found it." I willed the lie from my tongue, forcing it past my lips on stubbornness alone. I wanted to mean it. I really did. @[Castile] my hand slipped RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Castile - 01-16-2019 and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was castile @[Sabra] RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Sabra - 01-16-2019 I've never seen him so cold. Impassively looking at me when I can't look at him. It washes over me like a wave of ice, chilling me and taking my shakiness with it. If he can be unfeeling, well, so can I. The breeze is kicking up, and I revel in the feeling of it combing through my mane. It's as comforting as an old friend when I feel so very alone, and helps me face my reality. Hearing her name on his lips. It drops from his tongue effortlessly, and I nod at the correction. He's changed, I realize, from when we'd first met. Lost his kindness, perhaps. I find myself nodding again to myself, reconciling my idea of him with the beast before me. Watch as he absorbs my words and supplies his own monosyllabic comments. Little flames that eat my emotions down to the bone, sucking the marrow and spitting out whatever hard core remains. My lips purse as he gets irritated, volatile as ever and no longer caring to hide it. Feathers stand on end along my wings unbidden, a subconscious reaction to the danger I have such a talent for putting myself in. Puff up, look bigger than you are, maybe the threat will go away. A pastel hawk with nothing to lose. Someway, somehow, he's put flint to my dying fire, and I want to lash out again. I want to be angry, to shout and fight, if only it would make him care. "I will apologize when I'm in the wrong. I can admit it, even if you can't. There is always going to be a piece of me that loves you, but I can't, I won't, wait for you to love me. I'm not sorry for that." The delicate petals of my own ears tipped backward, finally looking at him full on. Cold, impassive. I tried to remind myself even as my voice rose. One hind hoof thudded into the ground sharply, tail flipping in the wind like a flame. The defiant lift of my head is back, even as my heart shrinks in my chest. I feel, and I can't apologize for it. And I can't hold on any longer to a heart that won't be held. "Be free, then, you stubborn ass. Congratulations on your home, I hope for your people's sake that you don't run from it when things get difficult." Too much. It's too much today, and I am done with feeling everything. @[Castile] RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Castile - 01-18-2019 and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was castile @[Sabra] RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Sabra - 01-20-2019 The clouds are thickening over our heads like a downy blanket, pressing closer to the earth the longer we stand here. I can feel the storm gathering pressure, filling my chest with electric potential. As much as I can appreciate the flames illuminating his eyes, there is lightning in mine. Destroyers, the both of us. Maybe I didn't have claws and jagged teeth, armoured scales or a talent for blood. But I could take a mind, and fill it with every good thing, only to tear it away. Only to eat away at the soul it belonged to. The wind is building, playing with the ends of my hair enticingly. The sky always was my first love, and I've been earthbound far too long, missing its airy embrace because I'd felt unworthy of it. For a moment, it feels like the sky has missed me too, and forgives me for going astray. At last, I've riled him, dragged him back to the core of us. I can see the violence promised in his face, in every coiled muscle of his body. The man is wound so tightly it's incredible that he hasn't erupted. He's pushing away, stepping back even as the hunger stirs in his eyes. A puff of air parts my lips, eyes rolling heavenward as he reiterates, tells me the same things he's told me before. "Yes! You warned me. You warned everyone. Fine. That's all you could do." I agree. He'd never seen it my way. That my consequence were my own. He'd rather be the martyr, victim of his own nature. It still fascinates me, the way his emotions drive him. The way spines emerge from the tangles of his mane and follow the line of his spine. A beautiful monster. The monstrous piece of my own self wants to push. Wants to keep pushing until he breaks. Why not, when that seemed to be all we were good for. Breaking each other into little bits until we didn't recognize the pieces. Instead, I surprised myself. Maybe it was weak. It probably was, all things considered. He's practically shouting, a mouth full of teeth that could tear in an instant. And I stepped forward, into his space, to press my mouth against his. There was no demand in the action. No accusation, no apology. I kissed him because I wanted to, and because it had been far too long since the air between us hadn't been choked with regret. When lightning struck, it struck the heart of me. It stood my hair on end and set my bones on fire from the inside out. Every scar flashed and burned, and when the thunder chased the lightning across the sky it echoed in my heart beat. When lightning struck, I was remade. @[Castile] RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Castile - 01-28-2019 and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was castile @[Sabra] RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Sabra - 01-28-2019 It's like throwing gasoline on a dying fire. My bones are straining, popping, alive again. As we fall apart, I gasp, static leaping from our pelts and flowing in sparkling rivers along the scars that crisscross my body. The way my heart is beating, it's a wonder I'm still standing. I watch the geyser of flame fill the sky above us, another wave of heat washing over me accompanied by a crack of thunder that rings through my chest. Slow, fat drops of rain begin to fall, making tiny craters where they hit the sand and driving cold darts through my coat. We'd be soaked through, soon enough. Even so, I wait, watching him through the dim light. With shaking steps I approach him again, this time with more caution. I don't know what to say at first, instead laying my cheek against his. A memory bled into my minds eye, of a day very different from this one. A day when early autumn sunlight had shown on both of us, and I'd led him on a chase through the sky, only to be caught and brought back to earth, laughing. I'd been so happy to be with him. I'd been so excited when I'd learned that our happiness had turned into our children. It had been such a brief afternoon, but it had stayed with me despite all. Some hope to cling to. Now we stood in the beginnings of a thunderstorm, unsure how to handle each other. Unsure where the hope had gone. It's a small contact, my cheek to his, but it's quiet and nonviolent, and for now I'm content with it. I want his love but have settled for his wrath for too long now. I can't forgive him just yet. The silence has dragged between us too long, and it's my turn to break it. Still standing close, savoring the touch, I speak at last. "If you had asked me to stay, I would have, Cas. But if my only value to you is because I bore children for you... it's not enough. The boys are mostly grown, I couldn't hold them here even if I wanted to." I stepped away, feeling a headache starting to burn behind my eyes. "I have to get some things figured out with myself. I can't do that if I'm staying here and waiting for you to look at me like you used to, competing with however many others for your affections. I'm going east. If you decide you want me, come find me. Until then... I know you'll be great, Cas. I always have. " It was a hard statement to make, but I had meant every word. I couldn't be his toy, his fragile treasure to be hidden away. There had been so much more to me once. I wanted to be more again. It was my turn to run away, for now. Thunder rolled as I cast my wings out preparatorily, sparks flashing reactively in the dark. Even with the rain beginning to pour in earnest, I was eager to be airborne again. It was time. @[Castile] 3 RE: Holding you close feels like a cut throat - Castile - 01-31-2019 and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was castile @[Sabra] |