stillwater;

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails His hesitance doesn’t escape her. His reluctance doesn’t avoid her notice. Nayl can see – feel – how uneasy he is about what she is asking, and yet her fiery stare never softens. It bores into him hungrily – wishfully – but she can’t bring herself to admit to him how much she wants him to oblige. She had watched mother grovel for attention from men and it gave her nothing in return. Myrina wanted and required love to function, but it led to disappointment and eventually death. Nayl promised herself not to follow in mother’s footsteps, and thus far, she hasn’t. Her entire life has been spent eluding males and evading any charm they may have. They are distractions, she reinforced daily, and yet here she stands, only inches away from Stillwater, and wanting so much more than mere conversation. The lust burns in her eyes when they fall on his own steely gaze. Even as he denies her there is still a gleam of acceptance. Her elation is lost beneath her forelock as her head drops to avoid his raking look of want and insufficiency. ”It isn’t.” she protests with an eerily calm voice, ”There have been hundreds of horses that have been able to be loyal to one another,” but as the words slip from her mouth she wonders what her underlying motive is and why she wants him to accept so desperately. ”I’ll take that,” she immediately recovers and stiffens, as though trying to sweep her vulnerability under the carpet (but it is far too late for that now). ”I had made a promise to myself as a child,” suddenly she is opening up to him, but there is still some guarding when she peers up at him curiously. For a moment, Nayl seeks a reaction, but then she hisses a breath through her clenched teeth and continues. ”I promised myself to never fall into the same trap as my mother. She was distracted by stallions and so never lived up to her dreams or potential. It led to her demise, eventually.” Why is she admitting this? Is it to console herself and give reason for her coldness and distance, or is it solely so he can understand her more? She doesn’t know, but suddenly she doesn’t care in this heated intimacy with their skins only inches apart. ”So, I’ve avoided stallions my entire life. I never spoke or touched a male; I had no interest after watching what happened to my mother.” Myrina’s image flashes across the back of Nayl’s eyelids when she slowly blinks. A drawn out breath expands her lungs then gradually expels into the salty air where seagulls fill the pause. Elevating her head, Nayl meets Stillwater’s eyes again as uncertainty crackles through her. ”And yet, here I am with you.” Nayl covet and myrina's creation