02-16-2017, 10:33 PM
Stillwater
Here within Sylva's borders, the glimmering chain at his ankle was light, weightless. Its magical properties that steadfastly leashed him to the land could not be blamed for the heavy press compacting his chest, the unseen claws bypassing the cage of bone guarding his heart and clutching tight in a merciless vise. These were all new sensations. Concern. Worry. They were sharp slivers of glass in his bloodflow, cutting and slicing his veins in lazy passing.
Nearly a month had passed since that night; since he saw her manifest as a gently glowing light, haloed and beautiful like an angel. He had thought she was truly there, showing another of her star-blessed gifts, and he'd smiled as he stepped familiarly, comfortably up to her side. But she hadn't responded to his presence, hadn't even been a solid, corporeal being. A dream, instead, a vision. A holographic image of the one person that could forge these strange, new emotions that were so foreign to him, so impossible for him to feel -or so he had always believed.
And as he'd stood there, frowning at that glimmering illusion of her, an icy chill passed through him just as a dark shadow figure did. Straight through his shoulder and into her, it passed, a sharp, chiseled face latched to her slender neck. Her lovely eyes were a shock of terror, and as the darkness ripped away from her, blood spilled from the wound like a black ink. Then the light dissipated, flickered and faded, and she was gone.
He'd stood frozen. Staring at the place she had just stood. His heart raced as he tried to work through all the emotions that flooded into him at that instant. Fear and surprise, worry. And then, another new one.. devastating fury. It tore him from the inside, as if he could claw and rip his own skin off and become something else entirely; something terrifying and ugly. Something more powerful and hungry. Trapped here and useless. TRAPPED.
A new light had entered his eyes that night. A dangerous glint that he'd always had buried so deep and secret. His mouth had watered and he'd ached to dive into that lake where the waters could soothe him, as though they could wash away the sudden urge to protect something, someone. He was not a protector, not someone who cares for others. He was a devil in disguise, a horror with an angel's face. And he'd shown it that night, just how vicious he could be.
He'd gone to the only one who could sate him, soothe him.
Without a word, he'd barged into her home and jumped her, crushed her to him with a need so deep he'd never had before. Needed to calm the fires within him. Burning, burning. He was not fire, he was water. Needed to be cool again, settled and still. So he drank her to the point of collapse, til she lay unconcious and drained at his feet, but alive. Must keep her alive, his Karaugh. And the boy, too. He didn't touch him, didn't take the child, though he couldn't shield him from the monster either. Could no longer hide the demon the boy had befriended. Is this shame?
Stillwater.
Her voice jolted him back to the present, though he showed no sign of being startled, still staring so heavily at the depths of the lake as he tried once again to work through a torrent of emotions. His heart raced as she pressed into him, curled and coiled to his chest like the most terrifying and wonderful tether of all. Leashing him to her. Trapped. Precious pink lips met his cool skin as he held still and silent, tentatively dipping his head and breathing that unique scent that was hers alone, drinking her in with boundless greed without touching her, but so very near.
I'm glad you're okay, she whispered as she placed one last kiss to his shoulder and carefully detached from him. Those deep eyes traced the sculpted contours of his dark face as she repeated his name again, so softly, so uncertain. He saw a desire in that explorative gaze and his own eyes slid naturally down to admire those lips that had felt so good against him. Did she miss that?
She looked away, and again only barely spoke. I told you I would come back.
He said nothing as his head arched over her neck, looking -and finding- the wound he had seen her take, that other version of her. So it had been real. It had happened to her. The anger tried to boil within him again, the helplessness of not being there. The impossibility of ever protecting her. So new, so confusing, these terrible emotions.
Luster, he said quietly, gently breathing on that horrible mark before slowly straightening. He didn't say anything about it, didn't say anything at all, but only slid fully to her side and pressed firmly against her. Just as before, they became a beautiful bruise in the darkness of Sylva's forest, black and blue; tragic and lovely. He wanted to touch her, wanted to glide his mouth up her neck and feel her tremble, but for now he held calm and still. For now, he only held her up as steadily as that onyx statue he'd just seemed to be moments before.
Nearly a month had passed since that night; since he saw her manifest as a gently glowing light, haloed and beautiful like an angel. He had thought she was truly there, showing another of her star-blessed gifts, and he'd smiled as he stepped familiarly, comfortably up to her side. But she hadn't responded to his presence, hadn't even been a solid, corporeal being. A dream, instead, a vision. A holographic image of the one person that could forge these strange, new emotions that were so foreign to him, so impossible for him to feel -or so he had always believed.
And as he'd stood there, frowning at that glimmering illusion of her, an icy chill passed through him just as a dark shadow figure did. Straight through his shoulder and into her, it passed, a sharp, chiseled face latched to her slender neck. Her lovely eyes were a shock of terror, and as the darkness ripped away from her, blood spilled from the wound like a black ink. Then the light dissipated, flickered and faded, and she was gone.
He'd stood frozen. Staring at the place she had just stood. His heart raced as he tried to work through all the emotions that flooded into him at that instant. Fear and surprise, worry. And then, another new one.. devastating fury. It tore him from the inside, as if he could claw and rip his own skin off and become something else entirely; something terrifying and ugly. Something more powerful and hungry. Trapped here and useless. TRAPPED.
A new light had entered his eyes that night. A dangerous glint that he'd always had buried so deep and secret. His mouth had watered and he'd ached to dive into that lake where the waters could soothe him, as though they could wash away the sudden urge to protect something, someone. He was not a protector, not someone who cares for others. He was a devil in disguise, a horror with an angel's face. And he'd shown it that night, just how vicious he could be.
He'd gone to the only one who could sate him, soothe him.
Without a word, he'd barged into her home and jumped her, crushed her to him with a need so deep he'd never had before. Needed to calm the fires within him. Burning, burning. He was not fire, he was water. Needed to be cool again, settled and still. So he drank her to the point of collapse, til she lay unconcious and drained at his feet, but alive. Must keep her alive, his Karaugh. And the boy, too. He didn't touch him, didn't take the child, though he couldn't shield him from the monster either. Could no longer hide the demon the boy had befriended. Is this shame?
Stillwater.
Her voice jolted him back to the present, though he showed no sign of being startled, still staring so heavily at the depths of the lake as he tried once again to work through a torrent of emotions. His heart raced as she pressed into him, curled and coiled to his chest like the most terrifying and wonderful tether of all. Leashing him to her. Trapped. Precious pink lips met his cool skin as he held still and silent, tentatively dipping his head and breathing that unique scent that was hers alone, drinking her in with boundless greed without touching her, but so very near.
I'm glad you're okay, she whispered as she placed one last kiss to his shoulder and carefully detached from him. Those deep eyes traced the sculpted contours of his dark face as she repeated his name again, so softly, so uncertain. He saw a desire in that explorative gaze and his own eyes slid naturally down to admire those lips that had felt so good against him. Did she miss that?
She looked away, and again only barely spoke. I told you I would come back.
He said nothing as his head arched over her neck, looking -and finding- the wound he had seen her take, that other version of her. So it had been real. It had happened to her. The anger tried to boil within him again, the helplessness of not being there. The impossibility of ever protecting her. So new, so confusing, these terrible emotions.
Luster, he said quietly, gently breathing on that horrible mark before slowly straightening. He didn't say anything about it, didn't say anything at all, but only slid fully to her side and pressed firmly against her. Just as before, they became a beautiful bruise in the darkness of Sylva's forest, black and blue; tragic and lovely. He wanted to touch her, wanted to glide his mouth up her neck and feel her tremble, but for now he held calm and still. For now, he only held her up as steadily as that onyx statue he'd just seemed to be moments before.
go down with me, fall with me, lets make it worth it