04-20-2018, 11:47 AM
The eyes that trace her scars aren’t the ones that hungrily bore into her in Hyaline. He is tame, and his expression is that of concerned tenderness. ”Solace,” he can’t help but to say her name again like it will take away his thoughts of what may have happened. The uncertainty reflects in his metallic eyes and she sees it well enough to realize his ignorance. ”Did I—“ he almost asks, but fear grips him and chokes him of finishing the question. While she reaches forward to him, Castile pedals back. ”Me?” He cannot fathom harming someone so dear to him. Is no one safe? Is he truly so monstrous?
There is more emotion in his voice now than there ever has been. It rattles his core. He struggles to lift his eyes to hers. She should scold him, punish him… hate him. Like a child, he waits for something, anything, but the voice that follows is gentle and enveloped in bright hopefulness. Castile listens, evident by the way his ears swivel, but it isn’t enough to pull him from his deep shame and guilt.
”But it wasn’t enough,” he whispers, barely loud enough to be heard over the soft breeze, ”I hurt you.” Admitting to it shares the equivalence of two dozen knives burrowing into his body. Suddenly, every fiber of his being hurts and he just wants to retreat back into the darkness. It’s where he belongs, he tells himself, but then when he finally looks up into Solace’s eyes, he questions it. What place would the darkness be without Solace?
But look at her.
(Look at what we did)
Castile holds his breath when he reaches to touch her as though she will disappear, as though it will be the last time. ”I’m dangerous,” he reiterates to her with a voice saturated in regret and sorrow. ”It could have been worse. I could have accidentally…” he can’t bring himself to say it, letting the statement dissolve unfinished in the intimate space between them.
There is more emotion in his voice now than there ever has been. It rattles his core. He struggles to lift his eyes to hers. She should scold him, punish him… hate him. Like a child, he waits for something, anything, but the voice that follows is gentle and enveloped in bright hopefulness. Castile listens, evident by the way his ears swivel, but it isn’t enough to pull him from his deep shame and guilt.
”But it wasn’t enough,” he whispers, barely loud enough to be heard over the soft breeze, ”I hurt you.” Admitting to it shares the equivalence of two dozen knives burrowing into his body. Suddenly, every fiber of his being hurts and he just wants to retreat back into the darkness. It’s where he belongs, he tells himself, but then when he finally looks up into Solace’s eyes, he questions it. What place would the darkness be without Solace?
But look at her.
(Look at what we did)
Castile holds his breath when he reaches to touch her as though she will disappear, as though it will be the last time. ”I’m dangerous,” he reiterates to her with a voice saturated in regret and sorrow. ”It could have been worse. I could have accidentally…” he can’t bring himself to say it, letting the statement dissolve unfinished in the intimate space between them.
@[Lavender] @[Solace]