03-12-2022, 02:52 PM
To say that Arcturos was never gently-touched growing up would be a lie; but Saint loved him in such fickle spurts that the thestral often feels as if he’s never known physical affection. He knows that’s why he shies from others in both verbal and physical ways. It’s why his entire body tenses as Allaire traces his bones. Arc trembles, both out of fear and exhilaration.
An empty ache thrums in the spot where Allaire once was. The thestral can still feel the ghost of her warm breath, the tickling and hesitant graze of her muzzle. Arc closes his eyes and breathes out unsteadily, wondering if he ever got the courage to ask her to touch him again, would she do it?
Would Arcturos ever be so brave? He trembles with the remnants of her touch. For a moment, he understands the weight of all he must heal to be able to accept such affection.
“Please don’t apologize,” Arc whispers. I don’t think I can take it, is what he doesn’t say. The burning hatred he has grown accustomed to returns in a violent wave. All the guilt and fear he feels targets how he must be making her feel terrible by just existing. Why did I tell her the truth? he hisses to himself.
“No,” the thestral answers simply, but he spits it more than says it. All his bitterness colors the one syllable. “I would never want that for someone.” Though that is a lie, isn’t it? Sometimes he wishes so terribly to be seen that he thinks he could commit murder himself.
“I mean, I don’t know,” he adds tiredly, after a few moments of tense silence. “Maybe in passing. No one I’ve ever met.” The words are exhausted and sad, despite the anger pulsing quietly beneath them. Arcturos swallows, a question popping into his head and out of his mouth before he can control it:
“Do you want to see me?”
@Allaire
An empty ache thrums in the spot where Allaire once was. The thestral can still feel the ghost of her warm breath, the tickling and hesitant graze of her muzzle. Arc closes his eyes and breathes out unsteadily, wondering if he ever got the courage to ask her to touch him again, would she do it?
Would Arcturos ever be so brave? He trembles with the remnants of her touch. For a moment, he understands the weight of all he must heal to be able to accept such affection.
“Please don’t apologize,” Arc whispers. I don’t think I can take it, is what he doesn’t say. The burning hatred he has grown accustomed to returns in a violent wave. All the guilt and fear he feels targets how he must be making her feel terrible by just existing. Why did I tell her the truth? he hisses to himself.
“No,” the thestral answers simply, but he spits it more than says it. All his bitterness colors the one syllable. “I would never want that for someone.” Though that is a lie, isn’t it? Sometimes he wishes so terribly to be seen that he thinks he could commit murder himself.
“I mean, I don’t know,” he adds tiredly, after a few moments of tense silence. “Maybe in passing. No one I’ve ever met.” The words are exhausted and sad, despite the anger pulsing quietly beneath them. Arcturos swallows, a question popping into his head and out of his mouth before he can control it:
“Do you want to see me?”
@Allaire