I loved you exactly as you were, and you thanked me by trying to destroy me.
Soft lips, sweet smile.
You tried so hard to change me, but I was already yours- so what next?
Infinite brown eyes.
You broke me down, rewrote my story. Rearranged every part of me in your image, the god of my meager existence.
Though that distant sun remained the same, the landscape around her varied considerably. So too did her thoughts vary, but frequently returned to the same backdrop. That state of mind plagued her even now, replete with nightmares and visions of that same handsome young man. His tongue had been plated silver but cast in lead, and weighed heavily on her heart even now, galaxies away. Some nights she could still feel his hot breath in her ears, or feel his wicked touch on her skin, or hear the desperation in his voice while he plead for her not to go. He, the monster, plead for her not to go.
The irony wasn’t lost on her.
Really, it hardly ever was.
Perhaps that’s why she sighed softly as her footsteps took her closer to Nerine, or home as would be the more appropriate term. She, who had so forsworn even social interaction, meandering like a lamb to just another feedlot. The last had been such a narrow escape, and here she was, begging for it to begin again. There was something about that burnt woman that was very comforting to the spotted mare, though she couldn’t quite tell what it was. The notion of a sisterhood further intrigued her, enough so that this entire venture seemed worthwhile. She had taken her time coming here, and her mind still drifted from time to time over those particular distractions, try as she might to erase them in the name of casual, inconsequential encounters.
As she entered the territory, her suspicions heightened significantly, reflected over every inch of her body. Darting eyes scanned around her carefully, tense muscles and dry tongue. She paused, finally, as the terrain turned to beach, almost struggling to maintain nervousness as the sea rolled rhythmically. Intrigued, she scanned the cliffs to her left with a curious eye, breathing in deeply the smells of the water and the faint notion of residents.One might be inclined to question why she would make such a blatantly uncomfortable appearance, and for her part in the game, she isn’t readily able to provide an answer. With perhaps a little more wisdom, however, she would easily identify the phenomenon at hand.
It’s intoxicating, being wanted.
She’d seen it in Scorch’s eyes just like she’d seen it in his. Different flavor, perhaps, but on a fundamental level, it was the same addiction. It wasn’t love, for certain, and nor was it lust; the latter shone paltry in comparison. This desire was more complex, intertwined with the inherent value of something far more vital than a kindred soul or a warm body to fuck. No, the way that Traton wanted to be wanted, to be valued, was as a life, a bargaining chip, a pawn. On some level, she knew that each and every time she felt that exhilarating drag, it was only for this reason, but a louder internal voice spoke of kingdoms and conquests and all manner of fairy tale-esque pursuits.
And whatever the conviction, here she stood.