Rapture
somewhere between the sand and the stardust
He doesn’t spare a glance for her, and with each passing breath, she seems to wilt just a little bit more. Finally, a deep breath escaping her lungs, she turns her gaze from him, refusing to believe she had misjudged so quickly. So soon. But then his low words rumble into the air. The timbre causes a shiver to trace along her spine, but the words themselves startle a flinch from her. Ducking her head, she hunches her shoulders as her gaze seeks out something, anything other than her two companions. A single thought is all it takes to shield her features from their sight, to once again the don the mask of youthful perfection.
It cannot hide the memory though, cannot erase what has already been seen. The faded tracks along her dusky blue skin, the small splotch of brown amidst flawless blue. So small, almost unnoticeable, but undeniably there.
So caught up in her distraction, in the unbearable thought of sharing her story, she does not notice the faint interest in Levi’s voice, in his features. The curiosity, the subtle undercurrent of something else, something far more intriguing.
Taking a step back, she hesitates before risking a glance at her father, at the way his features ripple with change, the sharp, deadly teeth lining his mouth disappearing as he focuses his attention on her. Fully, for perhaps the first time since he had interrupted she and Levi’s interlude. She is grateful for that, to have drawn his attention from Levi. She has no fear he would hurt her, but she cannot say the same of her new friend.
But she is equally alarmed by the reason he had brought his attention to her. It is not a tale she particularly wishes to share. Not the least of because she had knowingly put herself into the situation in the first place. A situation she could have so easily prevented.
Her father is right. In that respect, she is too kind. And no less gentle for her desire to keep her assailant a secret. Despite everything, she does not wish to have her father hunting him down. He had been barely more than a child, after all.
So when her father presses, seeking the story, Rapture merely shakes her blue head as she takes another hesitant step backwards. “It’s… nothing,” she breathes after a moment’s hesitation, though she cannot quite meet his gaze.
there is a pulse that echoes of you and I
