Beqanna
[mature] here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - 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: Nerine (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=91)
+----- Thread: [mature] here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis (/showthread.php?tid=22805)

Pages: 1 2 3


here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Ether - 01-28-2019

Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon

He'd never truly known how consuming misery could be. Never understood heartbreak until only a few short months ago. Months that had seemed to pass in a blink and drag by in agonizing slowness at the same time. If he were asked, he's not entirely certain he could recall what he'd done with his time. Every glimpse of her brought pain, but it seems he is a masochist. He tried not to, but he couldn't seem to stop himself, couldn't override the overwhelming desire to check on her from time to time.

He dreaded the times he might see her with her lover, the man whose child she carried. He'd been a mistake to her, but still he couldn't seem to stay away, no matter how he tried. He never saw the man who had meant so much more to her than him though. It was always just her.

He'd tried to forget her, to prove to himself (if no one else) that what they'd shared could be found with anyone. He'd failed. The night he'd spent with Faultline had been pleasant. But he couldn't lie, even to himself, and pretend it had held any comparison to the one he'd spent with Briseis.

It seems though, that it is a night he would never be allowed to forget. Heartfire had informed him of the triplet's birth, told him he was a father. He hadn't wanted to believe her, hadn't wanted to believe they could be his. But when he had found them, their paternity had been unmistakeable.

He hadn't been prepared to be a father, had never thought it might happen like this. But when he'd seen them, it hadn't seemed to matter. He'd known immediately he would love them, regardless of how they'd come to be.

They do not erase his regret and sorrow, but they ease it. Soothing the most ragged edges until it seems almost bearable.

He had offered to take them today, to give their exhausted mother a break. Harbinger is quiet, watchful, easily tired, remaining close to Ether's side. Harken and Haunt are much more childlike, playful and curious, as children are wont to be. Haunt occasionally confounds him, though he would never admit it. Both male and female, yet still somehow neither. The mysterious child is a small mirror image of himself, and for the first time he might truly understand how disconcerting others must find him. The luminous yellow eyes and eerie ability to become one with shadow surprises even him sometimes.

Harken and Harbinger have their own affinity with the shadow, and though it is perhaps not quite so obvious, he can sense it within them all the same. His beautiful white haired girl and sweet golden boy. And his Haunt, with such confusing ambiguity and subtle hints of green. He's not entirely certain he knows how to be a father to them, but he would try. And he would teach them what he could.

As he does today. He has been attempting to help Haunt and Harken learn the fickle nature of the shadows and how to use them to travel from one place to another. Haunt is reckless with the ability, giggling madly, charging with abandon into whatever might await.

Perhaps he should have waited to teach this particular ability. Though, truthfully, they would learn it one way or another, and he'd rather they learn when he can help.

And so he follows, because what else is there to do? The other two are close on his heels. He breathes a sigh of relief when he recognizes Nerine, the brisk wind and salty overtones assailing his senses. No doubt it would take time for Haunt's abilities to expand to a larger radius. He tries not to allow it to bring back memories, tries not to remember the crash of waves and the scent of salt mingling so lovingly with the scent of her.

It's futile though, it seems. He can still smell her on the salty breeze. For a moment, he believes it only a memory, but when he turns to find Haunt, he finds her instead.

She's as beautiful as he remembers, soft, feminine curves accentuated by the subtle gleam of her lovely dark skin. His heart clenches inside his chest as he stares helplessly at her, lost for what seems ages in futile longing and stinging regret. It takes him a moment to realize his precocious child had stumbled right up to her, yellow eyes wide and curious, pointed teeth displayed in a wide, eager grin.

“Hi!” Haunt says, entirely unencumbered by the vice that seems to have strangled Ether's vocal chords, trapping whatever he might have said to try to prevent this. “Who're you?”

ether



@[Briseis]
I wrote a novel oops :|


RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Briseis - 01-29-2019

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece

She still looks for him, even though she knows she shouldn’t. Misfit has offered enough of a distraction, however, enough that when she looks at him, she doesn’t always think about Ether, or Tunnel, or anyone else. Not consciously, at least. Every day, she finds her gaze wandering to the shadows, hoping that she will see those familiar golden eyes peering back. She catches herself every time, and she chastises herself, knowing that the flood of anguish that she felt was her own doing. She has not seen him ever since that day in the meadow, several months ago. He had completely disappeared from her life just as quickly as he had entered, and the fact that she couldn’t regain control of her emotions was taking a toll on her. There was a listlessness to her gaze, her expression always seeming to be vacant and faraway, until Misfit did something to pull her attention in his direction. Watching him was the only time she truly smiled, or felt anything other than an unforgiving and endless emptiness.

It had not been her intention to remain in Nerine, but it seemed safer than the alternative, for even though he had not expressed an interest, she was worried that Tunnel would come and try to take her son away from her. She wouldn’t be able to fend him off, and she had virtually no one else. If she had been overprotective of Chryseis, this was nothing in comparison. There was never a moment that the blue-pointed colt was not within her sight, and more often than not, well within her reach as well. She walked with him now, her lips constantly brushing across his hip or his shoulder, the cold ocean breeze ruffling the short tufts of his mane as they traveled.

She had been looking down at Misfit, a subtle smile resting on her lips as she studied his face, the way she so often did. She looked for pieces of her in him; anything to make him not look like his father. The stallion of the forest still haunted her at night, but now instead of running when the nightmares startled her awake, she pulled her son close to her, her fear of losing him being stronger than whatever fear Tunnel could evoke. She doesn’t notice the small group that has arrived, not until a small voice breaks through her thoughts. It is only then that her gaze is pulled from her own son, to another child, and the very sight is enough to make her stutter to a halt.

”Oh,” The word is startled from her mouth, and when she looks down at a pair of bright eyes, she cannot explain the way her throat suddenly tightens. Those golden eyes are ones that she would recognize anywhere, almost lost inside such a shadowy face, and slowly she can feel her skin begin to heat with apprehension. ”I’m Briseis,” She manages to say, trying to tell herself that it is perhaps just a coincidence; Beqanna was large and strange, and she is sure Ether couldn’t possibly be the only shadow creature to live here.

But when she looks up, and she sees him standing not far off, it is as though someone slammed the air completely out of her lungs, and split her heart in half in one relentless motion. For a long moment all she can do is stare at him, her confused brown eyes locked with his, and that is when she sees the other two children – black, like him, and like his shadows, but with colored manes. She is almost certain that he can hear the way her heart is thundering in her chest, her pulse so loud in her ears that it almost drowns out every thought. The tears that gather in the back of her eyes are quickly forced away, turning her attention back to the shadowy child and her own son, as she adds slowly from her previous introduction, ”And this is my son, Misfit.” Her lips briefly touch the top of the colt’s head, but her mind is racing.

She looks back to Ether, and to the other two children, and even though she doesn’t even want to think it, she cannot help but to wonder, Who is their mother? Do you love her? Why are you here? She doesn’t step towards him the way that she usually would have, his words and his departure still so fresh in her mind; an open wound that had never even begun to heal. There are so many things she wants to ask him, but not here, in front of so many young eyes and ears. Instead, all she can do is say the one thing has been persistent in her mind, the one thought that she simply could not let go of, ”You left, before I was ever able to explain anything.” Her eyes, now glittering with the tears that she won’t let fall, look in turn at all three of the children that were so clearly his, and there is a tremor in her voice when she says, ”Your children are beautiful, though. They look like you.”

BRISEIS
underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind


@[Ether]


RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Ether - 01-30-2019

Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon

He hadn't meant to come to her. Not like this (never like this), but there is no taking back what is done. Haunt couldn't have known they might cross paths with the only horse in all of Beqanna that could cause him such instant heartache. A pit is hollowed into his stomach as he watches them, that vise squeezing his chest until he fears his ribcage might shatter.

She is everything he remembers, and the way she so clearly cares for her son causes a pang in his heart, a wash of futile longing.

He had watched her from afar, but not since the birth of her child. It had been too painful. Heartwrenching, knowing it could never be his child at her heels. He'd never thought about being a father before then. Never known he'd wanted it until he had realized he couldn't have it with her. Then, suddenly, he had become a father, in a wildly different way than he had expected.

Once, he'd imagined they had been hers, but he had banished those thoughts just as quickly. His children deserve a father who loves them for who they are, not who they might have been.

And so he'd tried to forget. But it's impossible now, standing so helplessly here before he, their children meeting face to face quite by accident.

Haunt seems entirely unfazed by the tension that lingers so heavily between them, those golden eyes shifting from mare to colt. The shadow child stretches it's head forward, still grinning widely, before attempting to lick the other boys nose. With a wild giggle, Haunt scampers away. “Come play with us!” his child invites in a sing-song voice before coercing Harken to join. Haunt tries for Harbinger too, but his son, already wearied by this adventure, seems uninterested.

His throat had been working for several moments as he tried to find a way to respond to her. The children provide a welcome (if regrettably brief) distraction. Until Harbinger, with little encouragement, settles sleepily on the ground nearby.

It's tempting to feign distraction, but when he peers up at her once more, he knows it's impossible. Almost unconsciously he had drawn closer to her, a magnetic pull he finds himself unable to resist. Even if he is the only one who feels it.

“Briseis,” he finally manages, unable to resist tasting the syllables of her name on his tongue. His brief distraction seems to have loosened the knot in his throat. “I… um… thank you,” he begins uncertainly, stumbling uncomfortably over the words. “Misfit is, too. He's lucky to have you.” His gaze is earnest as he seeks out hers, not quite certain why he wishes her know how honestly he means that. After a moment he drops his eyes, brows furrowing before he flicks his gaze to his children. “Haunt is, um, the first one you met. And Harken… she has white hair. And,” he clears his throat, the one with gold is Harbinger.”

He falls silent then, not sure what the appropriate etiquette might be for someone who has just introduced a former lover to their children. Wondering if there is such a protocol, or if pain is simply supposed to keep them naturally apart. Finally his thoughts latch onto the first thing she had said, when he had still been trying to convince his throat to form words. He had avoided it, because he was not sure he wished to hear an explanation. Was not certain he could handle the pain of knowing why he hadn't been good enough without falling apart right in front of her. But another, more insistent part of him wonders if he would ever be able to let her go without knowing why she hadn't wanted him beyond that one night.

“What… did you need to explain?” he finally asks, pain and uncertainty and curiosity tangling heavily around those simple words even as he avoids meeting her gaze.

ether




RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Briseis - 01-30-2019

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece


She remembers that day in the meadow, when it had felt like the entire earth had split and created a rift between them. There had been no way to know that they were both jumping to conclusions, that their own imaginations were tearing apart something that should have been the beginning of something perfect and eternal. She still didn’t realize how confusing her words had been to him, without any context to explain what she had meant. And now, looking at him and his children, she can only assume that he had left because there was someone else.

Perhaps someday she would learn to not make assumptions.

Haunt invites Misfit to play, but she can see the way her son looks up at her, a little reluctant to leave her side. With her black muzzle she reaches down to pull him close for a moment, murmuring into the soft fur near his ear, ”You should go play. Just don’t go far.” She does her best to keep her voice light, knowing that if she let even a trace of apprehension creep through that he wouldn’t go. Even though she didn’t really want him to go, she knew it wasn’t fair to keep him nearly chained to her side, and that he needed interaction with others his own age. With a gentle nudge and an encouraging smile from her end, he finally follows Haunt, and the pair are soon joined by the filly.

She can feel the heavy weight of the tension that lingers between her and Ether, especially with three of the children gone, and the other now curled to the ground. When she looks at the little colt, clearly weaker than his siblings, it makes her heart clench, and for a moment she forgets everything else when she asks Ether with the concern evident in her voice, ”Is he okay?” The motherly part of her wants to reach over and touch him, but she refrains; he’s not her child, after all, and perhaps whoever Ether was with didn’t want some stranger hovering over her son.

He asks her what it had been that she had wanted to explain, and she can already feel herself inwardly withdrawing. She had thought that by finally telling Leilan that perhaps it would be easier a second time, but now, with those haunting golden eyes within her line of sight, the very thought of it was choking her.

”The mistake that I had made,” She begins, her voice painfully soft, as though if she were to whisper it that it would somehow be less humiliating. ”Was being alone in the forest and attracting the wrong attention.” He isn’t looking at her, but she is watching him, her eyes sweeping across the familiar lines and angles of his face; that same face she had dreamed about before her nightmares chased it away. ”Misfit doesn’t know who his father is, and I hope he never finds out how he came to be.” Her gaze drifts back to her blue-pointed son, the tears once again stinging her eyes and the back of her throat, ”It’s not his fault his mother is a fool and his father is a monster.”

When she looks back at Ether, there is something so entirely empty and detached in her stare, almost looking through him and not at him, even though every word she utters is of complete sincerity, ”I would choose you, every single time, if given the choice.” Even though her voice is still quiet, even though the words are laced with an almost intangible anguish, they seem to ring hollow when they leave her lips, dropping like shards of glass from her mouth, ”Tunnel didn’t give me a choice that night. And I hope every day that Misfit is nothing like him.”

BRISEIS
underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind



RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Ether - 02-01-2019

Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon

She’s so incredibly beautiful, her face alight with maternal love and encouragement as she nudges her son to play. When she turns her gaze to Harbinger curled in a gentle sleep nearby, there is nothing but heartfelt concern in the lovely lines of her face. It does nothing to expel the deep-rooted longing in his heart, or the soul-wrenching ache that watching her brings. At the understanding of what might have been.

A fantasy perhaps, but he cannot seem to help himself.

“He will be,” he answers firmly, though his voice catches faintly in his throat as he turns his gaze to the peaceful form of his son. It pains him to know Harbinger suffered, but he had stubbornly determined that nothing would harm his son the moment he had met him. They had all been smaller at birth, born perhaps a little too soon when they had run out of space to grow. But Harbinger seems to have suffered the brunt of it. Still, in so many ways, he is the strongest of the three. He had fought to survive, and each day he grows stronger, proving just how badly he wished to live.

Ether could not help but find inspiration in such determination.

His attention is returned to Briseis then, as the hesitant question hangs in the air between them. He cannot quite seem to meet her gaze, though his entire being is closely attuned to each small movement she makes, the very breath as it leaves her lungs. He nearly vibrates with it, needing to hear what she has to say almost as much as he dreads it.

He goes absolutely still as she begins to speak, his dark form nearly disappearing into shadow as he listens intently. Her words however, cause his heart to drop and his lungs to seize. Had he needed breath to live, he might have expired there on that very spot.

The wrong attention, she says, each word that tumbles from her lips more damning than the last. His father is a monster. He had known she thought him a mistake, but to hear such a thing spoken about what had been a life-changing experience for him frays every thought and belief about reality that he’d ever had. He’s so coiled in his own misery, his regret and self-flagellation, that it takes a moment for the words to register. Misfit’s father. Was he? Could he be?

His gaze jumps anxiously to the gray and blue boy where he had joined Haunt and Harken, desperately latching onto the thought. But as he studies the colt, his own doubts grow. He looks nothing like his other children. Though they sport brightly colored locks, they had inherited that from their mother. So where then had Misfit’s blue come from?

I would choose you, every single time.

It takes a moment for the words to register, and when they do, he straightens abruptly, bright gaze swinging sharply back to hers. A wash of confusion stumbles through, followed by disbelief before the faintest kernel of hope blooms. He takes an almost involuntary step forward, but as he studies her curiously empty features, he stills. Until understanding dawns, a name falling from her lips like a poisonous root.

As he had known it would, clarity brings him no relief. Instead it turns his world entirely on its head, reversing everything he thought he knew until he fears it might bring him to his knees.

“You didn’t…” he manages to stutter out, his too rapid thoughts trying hard to overcome the confusion of his tongue. “He didn’t…” He glances at Misfit again, taking in the gray and  blue. His sire’s blue, no doubt. Only then does his mind finally grasp the word she had so carefully avoided saying. One that leaves a horribly bitter taste in his mouth. Rape.

His heart stutters in his chest just before the weight of that reality crashes down around him. She had made a mistake, she said. He had thought that mistake him. Thought her rejecting him. But she hadn’t been speaking of him at all. And he’d left her there. Alone. Unprotected. Inadvertently rejecting her as thoroughly as he had thought she rejected him. But what if that mistake (that monster) had come back?

“I’m… so sorry,” he finally manages after what feels like an eternal silence. His yellow eyes are anguished as he looks at her. He wants nothing more in that moment than to go to her, but he is not certain she would welcome him now. Not after he had so cruelly abandoned her.

But as the monumental reality of the situation settles, his riotous mind latches onto the only tangible thing he can find in the sea of painful turmoil her revelation had brought. From beneath the regret and sorrow, anger begins to surface. Not just anger. Fury. Tunnel. He had taken her choice from her. Had brought her pain, suffering. Had haunted her nightmares (nightmares he had watched, no inkling of their cause).

Ether had failed her horribly. But he knows nightmares. He is a nightmare. He might be good for nothing else, but he could battle her nightmares for her. He could make sure she would be safe, always. His entire bearing straightens as he swings his head around, eyes gleaming with an unholy light, teeth baring in a silent, unconcious snarl, his intent all too clear.

First however, he needs to return his children home.

ether




RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Briseis - 02-03-2019

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece


She can almost see the way her words slowly begin to sink in, like a puzzle gradually falling into place as he pieces them together. There is heat rising to her cheeks, and as the reality settles in around both of them, she finds that she can no longer meet his eyes. She doesn’t know why the entire incident has caused her to feel nothing but shame; shame that she hadn’t recognized danger immediately, shame that she had not ran, shame that she had not fought back harder. Even though he hadn’t meant for it to happen, Ether disappearing had only further cemented that she had done something wrong; that something was wrong with her, that she had been defiled and therefore was now unwanted. She knew it wasn’t what had happened; she knew that she had a terrible habit of wording things wrong and not explaining things correctly, but the fact that he had disappeared into his shadow world without giving her a chance to explain still stung.

And even though his children were beautiful, and she would never hold anything against them, the very thought of him touching someone else the same way that he had touched her was almost more unbearable than the physical trauma she had already endured.

Her eyes finally lift to his again at his pained apology, and she instinctively whispers, ”It’s okay,” even though nothing felt okay. She didn’t blame him, and she hadn’t blamed him this entire time. She had just missed him. She knew he didn’t belong to her, that even if they had shared a night of indescribable passion, that it didn’t mean anything, in the grand scheme of things. No matter how badly she wanted it to.

But something in him shifts; something in his eyes grow dark, his entire demeanor changing in half a heartbeat. For a moment she grows tense, flinching just slightly at the sight of his rage, even though she knows it’s not directed at her. But when he turns to go, there is a panic that grips her heart, and immediately she moves forward, and she fills the empty space between them with her body. ”Ether, don’t,” she can feel her skin warming when she touches him, reaching to press her nose into his neck, and she is trembling at being so close to him again. ”Please don’t leave again,” There is a plea to her voice, almost desperate, when she curls her lithe body around the front of him, and she whispers dismally, ”I know you have someone else, but I don’t want you to go. Not even to find Tunnel.” She sounds stupid and pathetic, and even though she can hear herself, she suddenly can’t stop. The smooth plain of her cheek rests itself against his neck, her heart thudding erratically as she murmurs into his cool skin, ”Stay. Please.”


BRISEIS
underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind



RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Ether - 02-04-2019

Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon

For what is only moments and an eternity at the same time, he knows only the rage in his heart, fueled by the anguish of her confession. Knows only the desire to permanently removed the thing that had dare harmed her. That would touch her without permission. For the first time in his life, he understands the predator he had been made into. Knows why his teeth are now sharp and his footsteps silent.

For the first time in his life, he truly embraces it.

He would have gone too, without a second thought. Would have rid the world of one monster while creating yet another. Only one thing could have stopped him, could drag the single-tracked mind of the predator from its prey. Her.

Somehow, instinctively, she must have known. He doesn’t even hear her words at first, the desperate plea as she begs him not to leave. It isn’t until her body presses against him, so warm and electric, that the wildness of his mind snaps, one primal instinct replaced by another. Without thought, he presses closer, his lips dropping to her satin skin, teeth pressing against her withers. “Mine,” he growls into her flesh, until the small break in focus (the shift from one beast to another) allows conscious thought to return. Until the rationale of the man can overcome that of the beast he had suppressed for far too long.

He stills against her, lips closing slowly over his teeth as recognition begins to filter in. He closes his eyes, shame flooding in to replace the rage that had overcome him. He should step back. He was so clearly no better than Tunnel, more beast than man. But he’d wanted this (wanted her) for so long now that he finds he hasn’t the strength to pull away when she had so willingly curled into him. When she had come to him of her own volition.

He should pull away, but he doesn’t. Perhaps his voice had been muffled enough by her shoulder that she hadn’t heard the feral way in which he’d so crudely claimed her. Or perhaps she had, and she would pull away in fear. Would recognize him for a monster, just as much as her abuser had been a monster.

He would let her go if she did. He hadn’t sunk that far into the the depths of depravity. Not yet.

After a moment, he latches onto what she had said. Clutches the pleading words she had used to hold him here. He’d never been good with words, with normal conversation. But something she had said prickles his subconscious, and though he is perhaps a little slow on the uptake, it finally clicks. I know you have someone else, she had said.

Only then does he realize what she must think of him. What she must see. Too little too late, no doubt. Even if his beast-like behavior hadn’t frightened her away, he realizes then that the existence of his children might present an insurmountable obstacle. He had failed her, he now realizes, in so many ways.

“There isn’t anyone else.” The words feel a little hollow, hopeless, as he says them. But he has to tell her, even if it was too late. Even if she doesn’t believe him.

ether




RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Briseis - 02-05-2019

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece

Even when his teeth momentarily grip her skin, and even when she can feel a word being growled from his core, she is not afraid of him. Instead, she presses closer, the shadowy coolness of his skin colliding with her warm own, and she swears she can feel that same tension brewing, and it makes her heart jump into her throat at the idea that maybe she hadn’t been imagining things before. That even though everything was confusing and precarious right now, there was still perhaps something stronger at the foundation to stand on.

The single word, mine, is pressed possessively into her flesh, and her reaction when it is uttered from his tongue, and not Tunnel’s, is entirely different. She does not withdraw, and the heat that races to the top of her skin is not out of fear, as her mouth finds the familiar slope of his shoulder and her whispered reply is almost lost against him, ”Yours.” She doesn’t realize how true it is until she has said it, but the weight of such veracity is enough to leave her feeling weak. He had tamed the feral parts of her without even trying, without even meaning to, and she was powerless to stop it.

As the tension slowly recedes from his body, she does not move. She had been waiting with stilled breath for him to say something — anything — in reference to what she had said earlier, about having someone else. She had steeled herself for what she was certain would be the truth, had been preparing for it as soon as she had seen him. But she couldn’t look at him while she waited, and so she stood with her forehead still resting against his neck, her incredible stillness betraying the way her heart is jumping.

There isn’t anyone else, and that’s not the answer she had been expecting. When she pulls away, it is only to cautiously meet his golden eyes, studying him closely, as though she could break into his mind and strip it down until she knew if he was lying or not. Her eyes drift to the small colt still curled on the ground, and then over to the other two as they played with her own son. When she looks back to him, with tentative acceptance, she says nothing, and only nods her head.

Even though she had not left much space between them, it still felt like too much, and in half a step her lips are against his cheek, and then softly traveling downward until they rest against is jaw. ”I missed you. I waited, and you never came back.” If it weren’t for the thick, unmistakable sorrow in her voice, it would be easy to think that she was angry with him. She wasn’t, and she never had been. She was navigating something she did not understand, and she had told herself repeatedly she could not miss something that had never been hers to begin with.

BRISEIS
underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind



RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Ether - 02-07-2019

Golden eyes watching our every move
Losing time without the sun or moon

Yours. The word whispers through every fiber of his being, filling him with electric hope that he hadn’t destroyed everything between them. That he hadn’t made her fear him entirely.  That perhaps, one day, she may even forgive him for his weaknesses, for his failure.

When she doesn’t flinch away from him, instead drawing even closer, he stills. Is eyes slip closed as he revels in the warm weight of her against him, the feel of her soft skin, the gentle caress of her breath on his shoulder. Her lips on him send shivers across his spine, heat radiating from each point of contact, each whisper of movement. Until he can’t seem to prevent the way his lips draw over her spine, teeth scraping with impossible gentleness along the sweet, soft curve.

When she draws away however, he doesn’t try to stop her. The loss of her warmth, her closeness, brings a hollow ache, but still he lets her go. Her eyes rise to meet his, the uncertainty so clear even he can see it. He cannot blame her for it however. Does not know what else to say that might erase it. He had failed her spectacularly, and he deserves every misgiving, every bite of pain that her furrowed brown eyes tap into his soul.

Even the faint nod of acceptance cannot erase, though it eases the burden an infinitesimal amount.

Still, he closes the space between them even as she does the same, unable to resist. Unable to keep himself from her any longer. He closes his eyes as her lips trace his jaw, a slow sigh escaping his lips. After an endless moment, his mouth drops to the delicate bridge of her nose, to the soft hollow just beneath. Her words, when she finally speaks, squeeze his heart, causing him to still against her.

For a time he is silent, as though he might not respond to her admission. But then, quietly (barely more than a whisper), he offers an admission of his own, damning as it may be. “I did come back.”

Too many times to count, but he leaves that part unsaid.

ether




RE: here we are in the heart of the darkness; Briseis - Briseis - 02-09-2019

little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep,
little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories,
little do you know I'm trying to pick myself up piece by piece


The moment his lips touch her skin, it is as though her heart releases a breath, a sigh of relief. The pain that was accumulated over the several months since he had left, when he had retreated into his world where she could not follow, slowly began to dissipate; the confusion, and the loneliness that had echoed inside her ribcage ever since then, cautiously following suit. Something about his touch, light and skimming across her skin, manages to fill every hollow spot his absence had left, and not even she understands why she forgives so quickly, or why the open wounds seem to suddenly heal so easy.

She doesn’t question it. She doesn’t want to know if it’s wrong to immediately forgive him; she doesn’t want to wonder if the damage is irreparable, and perhaps she is just caught up in the moment. The strange thing about Ether, however, is he always made her act so completely out of character; he had been able to breach every wall and storm his way into her heart and her mind, and without even trying. He had been different from the beginning, and she was still so desperately clinging to what could be.

Almost involuntarily, she leans into his touch, and she can feel that relentless longing she has been pushing aside in his absence slowly being stoked alive once more. But she carefully buries it deeper, even though she doesn’t move away from him. He has grown suddenly quiet after what she has said, and the heat the rises in her skin is something closer to fear, that she has said or done something wrong.

When he finally speaks, his words are almost as quiet as the silence within his shadows, and she can feel her heart stutter in her chest. ”What do you mean?” He can not possibly be referring to now — this was entirely on accident. He hadn’t been looking for her, and the look on his face when their eyes had met had proven that. She can feel her heart constricting in her chest, but she slowly dares to ask anyway, “If you came back, why didn’t you say anything?” And still, there is no resentment in her voice; just a muted ache, a twinge of confusion, on how he had to have seen her suffering and said nothing.

Her throat begins to burn, and this time when the tears blur her eyes, she cannot stop them. They slide in warm paths down her cheeks, and even though she feels like she is breaking apart on the inside she still can’t pull away from him. With her face still laying against his neck she doubts he will notice, save for the way her body trembles in her attempt to ward the pain and tears away. ”I’m not mad, I just...needed you.” A broken confession, and something she had been afraid to admit to herself, until now.


BRISEIS
underneath it all I'm held captive by the hole inside,
I've been holding back for the fear that you might change your mind