06-28-2018, 07:56 AM
There are moments, where the world feels oddly still, and this, watching her there in the salt sea (goddess, siren) is enough to send a shiver down his spine. And the shiver is as real as the shadows playing beside her. The monsters in sheep-clothes that even now seek to uproot her, and they would, if only for play, had he lost an ounce of control.
The tar-black of his eyes meet hers (galaxies of sea-stars and ocean-foam) and there is a plethora of words threatening to escape his gold-black lips.
Coward
Khaedrik wonders if she can sense the strain on his back, see the muscles stretch taut beneath his skin (the skin that aches for her touch) and hear the frantic beat of his heart.
”Not as beautiful as you” comes his own voice in response (shadow-smoke and uncharacteristic hunger) and the whirlpool of shadows around him trills and vibrates in compliance. There is raw honesty behind his words; and he is melting under the starfire of her gaze.
If only.
He is oblivion then - yearning to sing her praises in a language none but a seagull would understand. He floats closer to her, upholstered by shadows and some fever-bright longing – and the ocean is a dizzying chasm between them. So tantalizingly close he can almost taste the salt on her skin. She is the sun beckoning him close; and he wants to burn, burn, burn.
The shadows wrap around his spine, greedily, and his khol-black eyes fail to note the sharp fangs that rise unbidden on his dolphins black jaw. The thing slithers close and closer still – bolstered by the pandemonium in Khaedrik´s eye. Oh, but the boy is negligent, lost in the eternity-eyes of a girl he has dreamed about ever since he happened upon her those many years ago. Khaedrik fails to note the monster behind her as it rises; the open maw with the knife-sharp teeth, the slavering jaws. It is no longer a dolphin but something else, nightmare-spun and hungry.
Fool
Khaedrik leans forward; so desperate to place a kiss on that mahogany neck. To feel. To live beyond mere existence.
”I never stopped thinking about you” he whispers into her ear, it is a rash and wild thing to say, and he knows he shouldn´t, but he is lost under the warmth of her gaze. He once confessed his sins to her – so why not this? It is like wildfire spreading through his soul, burning away all traces of that black shadow-void that plagues him so. Maybe.
Maybe.
It is then he sees the hint of black in the periphery – the sea-monster (scythe-tailed and sharp-fanged) poised to strike. There is a predatory glint in its gleaming eyes – and the revelation turns the wildfire-warmth of his soul into ice. Khaedrik leaps at the very same moment the monsters greedy jaws frantically reaches for Wishbone, and the howl that escapes his lips is not a boy´s but a beast´s guttural howl. Boy and beast collide – a tangle of shadow and gold, of beast snarls and terror.
Khaedrik commands the thing to shore, tries to twist it into something hapless, harmless. The ocean is a hungry, wanting thing that swallows them both – boy and shadow and Khaedrik struggles to breathe. Every fiber of his being wound up like a clockwork of shadow and chaos. He forgets Wishbone there – she is a sea-nymph and he the drowning sailor. All he knows is that he needs to get his shadows far, far away from her.
Control
The monster – desperate for freedom – struggles against Khaedriks attempts to hem it to his side. But he is nonetheless the stronger of the two – and the beast has no other choice but to disintegrate into a spray of darkness.
Khaedrik reels frantically unto the bristling sand of the shore, shadows swarming around his feet as he falls to his knees. A broken thing, battered and bruised with wild wild eyes.
”I´m sorry” he whispers into the salt-sprayed air ”I´m sorry.”
Over and over and over.
@[Wishbone] - So this started out totally different, but poor Khaedrik can never be happy
Let me know if I should change anything!