this brilliant light is brighter than we've known; fenris

[fenris]

well, you and me, we'd run away to be wherever our adventure awaits
and time would be a distant memory, nobody could tell us to stay

Part of him wants to bottle this moment—hold it forever.

He wants to cradle it into his chest, hoarding it for the lonely moments he knows are to come. It’s nothing that he doesn’t deserve. This life of alone. This life of quiet. It’s exactly what he has carved it out to be. It is exactly what he has molded for himself, rejecting the company of others for his own. He can hardly be upset that he has no friends, no family, when he has done nothing to create them—in fact, done everything that he can to chase them away whenever that was even a hint of it in his life.

But something about the way she looks makes him regret it.

He is surprised by the sharpness of the pain in his chest when she talks about him and it takes all of the practice at acting like he doesn’t care to keep up the charade. His eyes remain neutral, the gaze light, and he merely looks at her contemplatively, tracing the edges that make up her tired face. “You love him,” he says simply and hates the way that it tastes like bile in the back of his throat.

He has no right to be angry for it.

He has not right to her—to this.

Still, it takes more effort than he cares to admit to cock a back leg, relaxing in the stance. He reminds himself that it’s been years since he saw her last. A fact that he can only blame on himself. He was the one who had woken up wild-eyed the next morning, running as fast and far away as he could. He was the one who had stayed that distance, making trails that took him anywhere back here.

He has no claim to her heart.

He has no claim to her.

But he burns for it, his insides scorched with everything he swallows, and he just gives her a bitter smile.

“You truly have horrible taste, little bird.”

well, I've been dreaming ever since I've seen your heaven when you came my way