Cut the crap {Offspring}

[Offspring]

don't forget that this is a choice.
pick your poison; live with remorse.

    A shadow of doubt simmers beneath the surface of his burning eyes as he quietly settles within the moment, allowing the warmth of the humidity to envelope him in its suffocating grasp. Beneath the stillness of his body, his muscles tremble and twitch, his restlessness festering under an otherwise stoic demeanor. He is pulled from his moment of solace by her gentle touch, the heat of her skin pressing against his own as she manages to draw herself near to him, draping her own neck over the immense thickness of his own in an embrace. It is short lived, but it provokes another smile, the ridge of his brow furrowed slightly in amusement. She has always been bold; he should expect no less from her now.

    The warmth of her eyes draws his own to focus on her, to listen intently to every carefully uttered word. Her initial hesitation does not go unnoticed, but there is a genuine tranquility to the tone of her voice, giving weight to her confession of finding safety and comfort within the uncomfortably warm, stifling land of volcanic ash. He, too, has found serenity within the confinement of its invisible borders - though he still longed for the bitter frigidity of never-ending winter, he had grown used to the trickling beads of sweat on his skin and the thick blanket of heat. Another chuckle emerges from his throat as he speaks again. "It is not the Tundra," he confesses. "but it has become home, nonetheless. I am satisfied. Content, even." As content as I can be, at least, he muses to himself.

    His gaze soon settles on the horizon, observing the way the sun begins to sift through the thick, dense clouds that lumber slowly across the colorful sky, setting slowly beyond the immense volcanic peak in the center of the island. The warmth of day lingers still, but soon a blanket of stars will emerge and the sun will disappear beyond the skyline, and with it the temperature will fall, giving reprieve from the staunch heat of summer.

    His attention is suddenly drawn to her again, though his eyes remain settled upon the falling sun. She utters his name, something hidden within the two syllables - something he had not heard from her before. Soon, there is mention of wisdom and he can hardly stifle the laughter that bubbles angrily within his throat. Wise? Far from it, he mulls to himself, but soon his fiercely red eyes meet with hers, a bubbling brook of hazel emotion.

    Is there someone for everyone?

   His heart clenches within his chest, his sweet Isle coming to mind, with her soft touch and gentle soul. Too pure to be loved by his own bruised, imperfect heart, though he cannot keep himself from being selfish. She is the closest thing he has known to heaven, and yet he has only brought hell to her, time and time again. The light in his burning eyes seems to all but extinguish, a weary sorrow taking its place as he observes Jord, taking in the gentle curve of her cheek and the way her anguish is etched into every feature. "I am far from wise, Jord, but yes, there is someone for everyone." he murmurs softly, his heavy tone rattled with emerging self-doubt. "I will confide in you something I have not told many others. I, too, am immortal," A secret he has hidden from many; even Isle. "I am one hundred and thirty-seven years old, and I still have much to learn about life.

   A pause, and a sad smile.

   "Pain and rejection will refine you; strengthen you. I have known my share of it, myself. The one I love most will one day die, and leave me alone again in the world. That is a pain I have to live with each and every day. Unfortunately, I cannot reassure you that you will not experience the same loss one day - but love is worth every memory made, and every loss had."

offspring