Brigade feels nearly blind with his grief, with his shame, with his confusion. It swirls through his chest until he feels bruised by it, until he feels the darkness of it wraps around his throat. He watches her and wonders at how he can feel so deeply for her—how he can desire nothing more than holding her close and pulling her into his chest like he did in Loess—and how it feels like knives to breathe next to her.
All of the storms that had quieted in her presence before stir into existence again, whipping through him until he is breathless with the power of it. Until he is choking on the debris and the thunder that pounds in his veins. “Yes,” his voice is harsh, cutting on his tongue and his grey eyes are darkened. “You should have.” It feels better to lash out—to let her feel the brunt of his anger instead of holding it in.
It reminds him of the first time they met, when they clashed, and he struggles to break apart the desire and the hurt and the anger that brew in him. He struggles to separate them and focus on only the fury.
He shakes his head as she speaks again, his nose wrinkling as he begins to breathe harder. “Do I?” his voice nearly breaks on the question, the words coming between gritted teeth. “Or was I just some distraction? Some puzzle that you had to win?” He does his best to shield his expression, to pull back the hurt that leaves him so vulnerable—open and raw before her—and it leaves his face hard, cruel.
His wings shift by his side again, dark as charcoal and jagged on the edges, and the tighter he holds them to his sides, the more he feels his flesh begin to protest. “Stop,” he manages as she confesses and his throat is raw, the word pained as he manages to say it. “Just stop, Kensa. Please.”
When he glances up again, his light grey eyes study her face in confusion—feeling that horrifying melding of want and loathing. “I thought I could—“ he stops. “I almost—“ again, the words die in his throat and he feels earthquakes run down his spine. “I thought that we..” but this dies too because he doesn’t know how to complete the sentence, how to let this final confession rest between them.
I thought I could love you.
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache
but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
@[Kensa]