11-25-2019, 01:25 AM
I hope he takes your filthy heart
and then he throws you away someday
and then he throws you away someday
Her voice is quiet, and yet it feels like it may as well have been a scream.
It shatters the silent bubble he had managed to encapsulate himself in, and it immediately causes his skin to prickle in the way that it does just before he snaps. However, being dead for so long seemed to have strengthened his patience, or perhaps built his tolerance, but it was a tenuous hold that he had on it, at best. Still, with a grit of his teeth he manages to swallow the biting remark that was trying to build on his tongue, and he turns to face her.
He is at first mildly surprised at how striking she is. He had been born in a time when such colors did not exist, save for a rare few. The teal of her eyes were bright when set against the black of her face, and he couldn’t help but to notice the way the aurora-like colors crawled up her legs. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. But instead of being quieted in the presence of something so delicate and lovely, it made the anger knot tighter in his chest.
She was a pretty little thing, but she wasn’t his.
“Does being dead for over a hundred years count? If so, yeah, I guess you could say that. The afterlife is pretty bleak sometimes.” His voice is rougher than even he had expected; harsh and grating on his throat, and he does not try to clear the gravel away from it. Instead he takes a step towards her, his lips forming a small but careless grin. “I’m Dacian.”
It shatters the silent bubble he had managed to encapsulate himself in, and it immediately causes his skin to prickle in the way that it does just before he snaps. However, being dead for so long seemed to have strengthened his patience, or perhaps built his tolerance, but it was a tenuous hold that he had on it, at best. Still, with a grit of his teeth he manages to swallow the biting remark that was trying to build on his tongue, and he turns to face her.
He is at first mildly surprised at how striking she is. He had been born in a time when such colors did not exist, save for a rare few. The teal of her eyes were bright when set against the black of her face, and he couldn’t help but to notice the way the aurora-like colors crawled up her legs. She was beautiful, there was no denying it. But instead of being quieted in the presence of something so delicate and lovely, it made the anger knot tighter in his chest.
She was a pretty little thing, but she wasn’t his.
“Does being dead for over a hundred years count? If so, yeah, I guess you could say that. The afterlife is pretty bleak sometimes.” His voice is rougher than even he had expected; harsh and grating on his throat, and he does not try to clear the gravel away from it. Instead he takes a step towards her, his lips forming a small but careless grin. “I’m Dacian.”
Dacian