i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
He cannot keep the mirth from stealing across his features just as he cannot keep the teasing response from his lips. “As opposed to saying so much without actually saying anything at all?”
It is a dare, that question. A challenge he wonders if she would rise to meet. She presses him for answers while giving so little of herself away. And Reave, hungry creature that he is, would be satisfied with nothing less than all she has to give.
He knows how easily others get caught in his levity, but like the bone that shields his features, it is little more than a bright mask. It shields the grief and anger that has driven him since he was young, masking the darkness tucked so carefully into his ruthless ambition. It’s easy to mistake his laughter for lightheartedness. But there is something far deeper and far more dangerous that drives him. Revelrie has only just begun to scratch the surface.
He laughs at her pointed quip. But then, he has always had a talent for talking exactly as much or as little as he needs. Some points could not be made with a soliloquy. Even now, when she subtly prods at him for his abrupt reticence, he doesn’t try to explain. She admits her belief that the answer is to both questions, and she would be right. But even if she hadn’t said so aloud, he suspects she would have known.
In the end however, it is an unpleasant truth. And Reave has never enjoyed lingering on unpleasant truths.
So he follows her into the water without replying, the waves splashing against his pale canons as they move in their rhythmic push and pull. Instead he turns the topic to something lighter, and to his delight, she responds to his teasing in kind. He chuckles, inordinately pleased with the turn of their conversation. “You do know how to go right for the ego, don’t you?” he quips, voice rumbling with his amusement. If his were a fragile thing, he might have been tempted to prove his bravery by asking the question even though he already knows the answer. Instead he forges ahead, drawing into the surf alongside her, eyes sparking as he watches her intently. “Lucky for you, I am a far better swimmer than a flyer.”
Tilting his head, he allows his grin to widen, his vibrant gaze shifting into something positively devilish. “A date though, hmm?” He nearly purrs the words. He has been enjoying himself immensely, but that little slip of the tongue had just shifted his perspective on this encounter entirely. “If I survive the sharks, does that mean you’ll agree to a second one?”
reave
@revelrie