08-16-2019, 05:51 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Suddenly, all else disappears.
It’s strange how easily reality slips away when Sochi presses her warm body against his, when she leans her forehead to his neck in mild defeat. As lovingly as he can, Castile holds her. He curls around her and lifts a wing across her back to more tightly embrace her as emotional conflict and turmoil rattle her bones. There’s a fleeting moment in which he considers speaking, but the silence is so much louder as they lose themselves in each other. Their hearts tango with the beat of their breaths while their eyes shut to savor these seconds alone before Sochi looks down again at her newborn.
As much as he wants to understand her, he cannot. Castile cannot fathom the struggle of rape or to bear a child as a result. Even if he could dive into her thoughts, he would be too afraid this time to live and see what she experienced. It, too, would ignite Castile’s suppressed rage. It would awaken the monster within him, it would rebirth the chaos he so naturally pursues.
Clenching his jaws, he hesitates to look at her and see the conflict in her eyes, but he forces himself to be strong for her. Sochi’s voice cracks, and it’s an immediate realization and look into the depths of her soul. They once agreed they were monsters and so dangerous, but here, in their intimate seclusion, there is love and reassurance. ”It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice low and husky in desperate attempt to remain her safe haven. ”Whichever you decide, I’m by your side,” this would have played so differently if he was younger, back when he was volatile. The child could’ve been dead by now, a mangled heap in the sparse grass, but he has learned so many lessons in his life already.
”Someone else can take it,” it seems like the final decision to abandon it, and so Castile affirms it with the stern comment and a shadowed expression that Sochi can now see as he slowly (reluctantly) pulls away. ”We can drop it off together unless you want to be alone,” he gazes into her eyes then searches her face to see the lines furrowing her brows. ”I’m here for you,” he murmurs again sweetly before cradling the curve of her jaw with his lips.
It’s strange how easily reality slips away when Sochi presses her warm body against his, when she leans her forehead to his neck in mild defeat. As lovingly as he can, Castile holds her. He curls around her and lifts a wing across her back to more tightly embrace her as emotional conflict and turmoil rattle her bones. There’s a fleeting moment in which he considers speaking, but the silence is so much louder as they lose themselves in each other. Their hearts tango with the beat of their breaths while their eyes shut to savor these seconds alone before Sochi looks down again at her newborn.
As much as he wants to understand her, he cannot. Castile cannot fathom the struggle of rape or to bear a child as a result. Even if he could dive into her thoughts, he would be too afraid this time to live and see what she experienced. It, too, would ignite Castile’s suppressed rage. It would awaken the monster within him, it would rebirth the chaos he so naturally pursues.
Clenching his jaws, he hesitates to look at her and see the conflict in her eyes, but he forces himself to be strong for her. Sochi’s voice cracks, and it’s an immediate realization and look into the depths of her soul. They once agreed they were monsters and so dangerous, but here, in their intimate seclusion, there is love and reassurance. ”It’s okay,” he breathes, his voice low and husky in desperate attempt to remain her safe haven. ”Whichever you decide, I’m by your side,” this would have played so differently if he was younger, back when he was volatile. The child could’ve been dead by now, a mangled heap in the sparse grass, but he has learned so many lessons in his life already.
”Someone else can take it,” it seems like the final decision to abandon it, and so Castile affirms it with the stern comment and a shadowed expression that Sochi can now see as he slowly (reluctantly) pulls away. ”We can drop it off together unless you want to be alone,” he gazes into her eyes then searches her face to see the lines furrowing her brows. ”I’m here for you,” he murmurs again sweetly before cradling the curve of her jaw with his lips.
castile
@[sochi]