[private] born under scorpio skies

[achille]

There’s only a muted surprise on Achille’s face when the pale stranger steps after him. His gaze is bright with some emotion even he isn’t sure of when he peers at her. Two emerald eyes stare unceasingly at the angel, as if he cannot comprehend why anyone—much less someone so ethereal—would want to steal his attention. He draws his chin a bit closer to his chest and pulls a short breath into his lungs.

“I . . .”

All the aplomb of drawing a breath and Achille can barely utter a syllable.

With a gruff sort of look on his face, he turns his head away to look anywhere—at anything, any shadowed shape—other than the celestial woman before him. He sees the possible outcomes of their encounter in the darkness that drowns the colors of their surroundings. Incapable of feeling anything other than shame and disappointment, Achille shoulders away.

“Out of the rain,” he grumbles, lying. With mostly his back facing Ryatah, Achille stands incredibly still, head partially drooping. He sighs quietly, then offers a short, sidelong glance in the angel’s direction. His fog reaches out to Ryatah, almost as if to mute her glow to match his mood.

“Where are you going?” he asks. His rough voice tumbles out like the rolling of thunder before the lightning he controls.

achille

a little bit of bad thing never hurt anyone

but too much of a good thing

is like a hand on your neck

@Ryatah