02-08-2021, 12:00 PM
He has been so still for so long that when he finally, suddenly, lifts his bright chestnut head, she nearly shies backwards and away from him. It is as though in his stillness she had forgotten he had ever lived, that this fleeting warmth beneath his skin meant something more. But his gaze does not immediately find her, and she makes no effort to alert him to her presence. She doesn’t know him, doesn’t even know if she wants to know him.
Doesn’t she, though?
Would she not have left him there in his graveless death if she did not care.
It is good that he has not found her face, because it is a tapestry of emotion she prefers to keep hidden away somewhere deep inside herself. She would not have wanted him to see the way those mismatched eyes softened from their hard worry in those first few moments of consciousness. Nor would she have wanted him to see the way the glowing markings on his legs drew all of her attention until that faded golden shine was reflected back at him in windows of blinking gold and dark for every second she could not turn away.
He is beautiful in a way that she will never be, alive and shining like he has stardust buried in the vivid patterns across his legs. Or maybe it is sunshine, and that is why the beast was so eager to ruin him. She is glad to have been here, glad to have seen him, glad to have this gift to share with him. He is too beautiful for death.
She takes a step back from him, drawing shadows in tight around her with a magic that lives inside every bone and every vein, every valve of a heart created broken. It is easy to be invisible, and she is so ready to slip away until his legs start to struggle and she cannot help but to pause again and wonder if there is more she can do, more she can give. Her shadows dissipate, falling away from her skin like black fog, falling towards him to carry more of her healing magic. More of this broken love she will not acknowledge that lives and grows inside her chest, reaches for strangers who never even notice her. Never notice that their wounds are suddenly gone, or the aches in their bones have somehow eased.
Never notice the girl with the mismatched eyes, all cloaked in shadow and hiding everything but this gift that exists to be given and not kept.
But then his head turns and his eyes lift, and she knows immediately that he has found her in the dark because there are suddenly thoughts swimming like fish in the green of his eyes. She freezes, unmoving and unblinking, watching him squint and search as though perhaps she is like a ghost in the dark with this haze of shadow remnant clinging to her skin. She frowns, and it is hard and defensive, stripping all of the gentle warmth from her delicate face of half black and half white-gold until there is nothing but a scowl to greet him.
It is unsteady though, like an echo cast off by the wild of her heart.
She softens, she frowns deeper, she blinks and her mouth goes slack.
She doesn’t smile, and her eyes are still wary, but the longer she stares at that face of bright white and warm chestnut, the harder it is to be anything but gentle.
Maybe just this once it won’t matter. She’ll leave from here and never see him again, and he will soon forget her face and this gentleness and the way her eyes are like night and day - one pitch black, the other bright gold. One time of letting her walls down won’t kill her, and then she can go back to being a ghost again, living at a distance to protect this fragile thing inside her chest.
He groans and the sound claws at something in her belly until her eyes flash with pain. “If you sit up I can fix that too.” She says quietly, stepping closer again so she can keep her voice at a whisper. Her eyes are on his broken wing, the one pinned beneath him. She doesn’t warn him that she will have to move it first so the bones are aligned as close to where they should be before she heals him. He likely wouldn’t want the warning anyway, better not to know.
Then he speaks, and the scowl that slips across her delicate face is definitely one of her best. “I’m pretty sure you meant to say thank you, so you’re welcome. And I’m also pretty sure you didn’t ask that thing to kill you, so,” wait, had he wanted to die? That silences her for a beat, and her gaze changes and searches his face as though she would be able to discern such a thing just by looking at him. Then, more slowly and a little wary, with pain sinking into her bones like a tangible beast, “What do you mean this was your fault.. did you want to die?”
Doesn’t she, though?
Would she not have left him there in his graveless death if she did not care.
It is good that he has not found her face, because it is a tapestry of emotion she prefers to keep hidden away somewhere deep inside herself. She would not have wanted him to see the way those mismatched eyes softened from their hard worry in those first few moments of consciousness. Nor would she have wanted him to see the way the glowing markings on his legs drew all of her attention until that faded golden shine was reflected back at him in windows of blinking gold and dark for every second she could not turn away.
He is beautiful in a way that she will never be, alive and shining like he has stardust buried in the vivid patterns across his legs. Or maybe it is sunshine, and that is why the beast was so eager to ruin him. She is glad to have been here, glad to have seen him, glad to have this gift to share with him. He is too beautiful for death.
She takes a step back from him, drawing shadows in tight around her with a magic that lives inside every bone and every vein, every valve of a heart created broken. It is easy to be invisible, and she is so ready to slip away until his legs start to struggle and she cannot help but to pause again and wonder if there is more she can do, more she can give. Her shadows dissipate, falling away from her skin like black fog, falling towards him to carry more of her healing magic. More of this broken love she will not acknowledge that lives and grows inside her chest, reaches for strangers who never even notice her. Never notice that their wounds are suddenly gone, or the aches in their bones have somehow eased.
Never notice the girl with the mismatched eyes, all cloaked in shadow and hiding everything but this gift that exists to be given and not kept.
But then his head turns and his eyes lift, and she knows immediately that he has found her in the dark because there are suddenly thoughts swimming like fish in the green of his eyes. She freezes, unmoving and unblinking, watching him squint and search as though perhaps she is like a ghost in the dark with this haze of shadow remnant clinging to her skin. She frowns, and it is hard and defensive, stripping all of the gentle warmth from her delicate face of half black and half white-gold until there is nothing but a scowl to greet him.
It is unsteady though, like an echo cast off by the wild of her heart.
She softens, she frowns deeper, she blinks and her mouth goes slack.
She doesn’t smile, and her eyes are still wary, but the longer she stares at that face of bright white and warm chestnut, the harder it is to be anything but gentle.
Maybe just this once it won’t matter. She’ll leave from here and never see him again, and he will soon forget her face and this gentleness and the way her eyes are like night and day - one pitch black, the other bright gold. One time of letting her walls down won’t kill her, and then she can go back to being a ghost again, living at a distance to protect this fragile thing inside her chest.
He groans and the sound claws at something in her belly until her eyes flash with pain. “If you sit up I can fix that too.” She says quietly, stepping closer again so she can keep her voice at a whisper. Her eyes are on his broken wing, the one pinned beneath him. She doesn’t warn him that she will have to move it first so the bones are aligned as close to where they should be before she heals him. He likely wouldn’t want the warning anyway, better not to know.
Then he speaks, and the scowl that slips across her delicate face is definitely one of her best. “I’m pretty sure you meant to say thank you, so you’re welcome. And I’m also pretty sure you didn’t ask that thing to kill you, so,” wait, had he wanted to die? That silences her for a beat, and her gaze changes and searches his face as though she would be able to discern such a thing just by looking at him. Then, more slowly and a little wary, with pain sinking into her bones like a tangible beast, “What do you mean this was your fault.. did you want to die?”
ILLUMINAE
we can't dream when we're awake,
or fall in love with a heart too strong to break
@[Nashua]