His every aspect is attuned to her. To her cryptic words and dull appearance. To the way her breath smells bitter and her eyes taste like agony when he speaks to them. The boy lean's his soul against hers, tests its strength, absorbs its sadness. He intertwines his existence with hers so powerfully, it seems that he will never stop staring at her or the way she breathes and blinks. But of course, it is only for a moment.
He comes closer to her, looks at her, melts into her. They are inches away, and he wonders if she tastes as dull as she looks, like a stone. She surely will not taste like Noori - like sap made into syrup and flowers ranging from bitter to sweet. Noori is her own restaurant of emotions and auras - this Cordis of Nothing is the dime pressed into the homeless man's hand without meeting his gaze.
"You could kill yourself." He mused. "That would give you power - or at least take some of it away from the universe." The child looks up to her eyes, enjoys the way they are shattered. "But you'd still be nothing." A crease comes upon his forehead - that will be a problem. He's trying to help her, you see. Trying to use the darkness of his mind to cure the nothingness of hers. For he knows she is lying - perhaps her spirit eyes are blind. For where her life is a universe, his is a void.
Breaking their gaze, he closes the gap between them, and suckles softly on the flesh of her shoulder. His pink tongue is light against the silver of her skin, a finger's brush of the spin. They stay like that for a moment, together in the ways only freaks are, before he pulls back. The crease has gone from his youthful forehead.
"But you don't taste like nothing." She tastes like tears and pain, like knives and painkillers. "So that makes you a liar." What a thing to be - glorious. A universe with more layers than content. A book with pages so thin it takes minutes to separate them. Nihlus wonders if he will ever be a liar. If he will ever be nothing.
Looking upon Cordis, he decides against the notion.
He comes closer to her, looks at her, melts into her. They are inches away, and he wonders if she tastes as dull as she looks, like a stone. She surely will not taste like Noori - like sap made into syrup and flowers ranging from bitter to sweet. Noori is her own restaurant of emotions and auras - this Cordis of Nothing is the dime pressed into the homeless man's hand without meeting his gaze.
"You could kill yourself." He mused. "That would give you power - or at least take some of it away from the universe." The child looks up to her eyes, enjoys the way they are shattered. "But you'd still be nothing." A crease comes upon his forehead - that will be a problem. He's trying to help her, you see. Trying to use the darkness of his mind to cure the nothingness of hers. For he knows she is lying - perhaps her spirit eyes are blind. For where her life is a universe, his is a void.
Breaking their gaze, he closes the gap between them, and suckles softly on the flesh of her shoulder. His pink tongue is light against the silver of her skin, a finger's brush of the spin. They stay like that for a moment, together in the ways only freaks are, before he pulls back. The crease has gone from his youthful forehead.
"But you don't taste like nothing." She tastes like tears and pain, like knives and painkillers. "So that makes you a liar." What a thing to be - glorious. A universe with more layers than content. A book with pages so thin it takes minutes to separate them. Nihlus wonders if he will ever be a liar. If he will ever be nothing.
Looking upon Cordis, he decides against the notion.