08-25-2018, 07:59 PM
Even though she knows it isn’t him, there is still just a moment of confusion when she opens her eyes to that brilliant gold instead of black and brimstone. Brown eyes instead of red, flecks of quiet gold watching her heart break with the waves against the rocks below. Maybe the strangest part of all is that she knows him, of him, in that distant way you know the faces of those you have lived beside. That despite being unfamiliar, he is not a stranger.
“Hello, Magnus.” She speaks when he does not, touches her lips to his neck in quiet greeting, shapes his name against the dapples on his skin and then turns away from him again to look back out over the ocean. She can not tell if this is better or worse, having him here beside her now, can not decide if he is to be a friend or just another wound in her life. So she is quieter than she might’ve been years ago, wary and cautious, easily resisting any old urges to shift closer and lay her cheek against his shoulder.
It is better to be stone, these days.
But she is surprised by the depth of his words when he does finally find them, and at once her dark gaze is torn from the ocean to fall like shadows across his face. She can feel the weight of his mind pushing against hers, stray thoughts slipping through to collide with her own. It is a feeling she has never loved, will never be used to, one she has always resisted. She is quiet for a beat, a furrow appearing in the smooth white of her brow as she offers him a warning first, and then a question. “If you have secrets to keep, hold them close, Magnus. I will hear them regardless of neither one of us wanting that.”
She has to glance away for a heartbeat, steel herself against that feeling of shame that has always, always found her in these moments. That she has never been enough in this, in anything, never strong enough to control what she can hear and when. That thoughts drift over her in the same hushed way that the wind does through these rocks now.
When she speaks again it is so quiet, and her gaze does not find its way back to his face or those gold-flecked eyes. “I come here to forget.” She says finally, not acknowledging the ache of understanding his words had thrust into her chest. “Because how can anything else in the world be bigger than this.” Her eyes scan the vast expanse, the endless open night creeping in all along her periphery. She is careful not to mention how this does not work. How it only started out as wanting to forget and is now a punishment of remembering.
Then she does lift her face to look at him again, to see if she can find truths in the gold of his eyes, in the movement of muscle along his jaw. “Why do you come here, Magnus. What is it you expect to find at the edge of the world?”
@[magnus]
“Hello, Magnus.” She speaks when he does not, touches her lips to his neck in quiet greeting, shapes his name against the dapples on his skin and then turns away from him again to look back out over the ocean. She can not tell if this is better or worse, having him here beside her now, can not decide if he is to be a friend or just another wound in her life. So she is quieter than she might’ve been years ago, wary and cautious, easily resisting any old urges to shift closer and lay her cheek against his shoulder.
It is better to be stone, these days.
But she is surprised by the depth of his words when he does finally find them, and at once her dark gaze is torn from the ocean to fall like shadows across his face. She can feel the weight of his mind pushing against hers, stray thoughts slipping through to collide with her own. It is a feeling she has never loved, will never be used to, one she has always resisted. She is quiet for a beat, a furrow appearing in the smooth white of her brow as she offers him a warning first, and then a question. “If you have secrets to keep, hold them close, Magnus. I will hear them regardless of neither one of us wanting that.”
She has to glance away for a heartbeat, steel herself against that feeling of shame that has always, always found her in these moments. That she has never been enough in this, in anything, never strong enough to control what she can hear and when. That thoughts drift over her in the same hushed way that the wind does through these rocks now.
When she speaks again it is so quiet, and her gaze does not find its way back to his face or those gold-flecked eyes. “I come here to forget.” She says finally, not acknowledging the ache of understanding his words had thrust into her chest. “Because how can anything else in the world be bigger than this.” Her eyes scan the vast expanse, the endless open night creeping in all along her periphery. She is careful not to mention how this does not work. How it only started out as wanting to forget and is now a punishment of remembering.
Then she does lift her face to look at him again, to see if she can find truths in the gold of his eyes, in the movement of muscle along his jaw. “Why do you come here, Magnus. What is it you expect to find at the edge of the world?”
@[magnus]