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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    as if a glass could contain the sea || amorette
    #2

    She had thought they were friends. The type of friends that build on one another, and to whom trust comes natural. That she easily trusts – or too easily if you would ask another – doesn’t have to do anything to do with trust between friends. It’s not simply meeting someone and focus on the good intentions, trust between friends is blind. Now Amorette is not so sure anymore.

    It hurts, and thus the ebony woman is almost passive when they meet up. The more she closes herself off from him, the less he could hurt her. When Warrick had first asked her to accompany him she’d been excited, but now it is just awkward. Amore finds herself torn between her excitement and grief the Overseer’s lack of trust had caused her. The silent battle within her is enough for her to ignore the silent stretched between them as they march through the forest.

    Rather surprising, she is blindly following his lead. Perhaps stupid, since he had shown he doesn’t trust her, it would be easy to say she couldn’t trust Warrick in return. Yet, she does. He might not trust her judgement, but that wouldn’t mean he meant to harm her, right? It’s somewhere in the middle of the said forest that he stops her.

    Her dark eyes meet his blue ones without glancing away. A quick glance around had told her that there was nothing around them that caused him to stop, so he must finally have decided to address the matter. A little late, if you would ask Amorette. For a moment she just watches the navy and bay stallion, eyes narrowing for a second as she searches his face. There’s genuine worry, and a big black gap of the unknown. Which in return confuses the ebony woman.

    ”Do you even want me accompanying you?” Her question is just as blunt as his, and like him she’s afraid of the answer she might get. This wasn’t at all how she had imagined their trip, and yet, it was how things turned out. Amore cannot find enough rest to give him the opportunity to answer rather filling in for him because saying the words herself would hurt less than hearing them from him. ”Or was your proposal to go together just a sleek way of covering up that you don’t trust me on my own?”

    Amorette

    Quand on n'a que l'amour.

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    RE: as if a glass could contain the sea || amorette - by Amorette - 02-11-2018, 12:24 PM



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