Leilan
Demons run,
but count the cost...
but count the cost...
Friendship dies and true love lies
Night will fall and the dark will rise
Night will fall and the dark will rise
"Leilan."
Fuck. As if it couldn't get any worse.
His face had been turned away from her for some time now, but mostly, he hadn't really cared to go look for her even as the familiarity of her scent should have warned him. But the air is cold around him, and he doesn't take deep breaths to taste anything else than winter in his breath. Besides, she has camouflaged herself, with light and dark or something of the like. Well, not like he looked anywhere else than the straw-like summer grass at this point, but still. He hadn't expected her here, although he could have.
She had a nose for things like these, it seemed.
Oh, he knows he isn't being fair. He hasn't visited her in well over a year now, almost one-and-half. Maybe it was one-and-half already, he doesn't keep much track of time. A humourless half-laugh escapes him as he spits the grass that he'd not exactly chewed yet, and suddenly doesn't care about swallowing either.
He's not even told her about Chryseis' existence yet. But he can't find himself to care, either.
Instead, he lifts his head a few inches to look at her - her gaze isn't even as headstrong as it could be; as he could be - then with one sudden move moves his neck to stare at her directly. Cold, like the winter's day surrounding him, slowly killing the already-yellowed grass directly around his feet.
"I did." It's almost a dare: I dare you to ask, because it'll give me an excuse to explode again, I dare you to be angry with me, because that's the only emotion I can allow in at this point. I dare you to mention her name, so I can show you exactly what she did to me, and what I did to her. I dare you to tell me you've spoken to her, but if you do, I don't think I will talk to you again for some time.
I dare you to think about what would have happened to you, in a similar situation.
Almost a dare? Maybe it's definite. He's staring at his mothers green eyes, and suddenly he does want to know. But she still has to react to his two words, so maybe - definitely - he will explain to her what it feels like. Simply by bringing up his own father.
Seems the only way to get into a thick skull like theirs anyway.
Fuck. As if it couldn't get any worse.
His face had been turned away from her for some time now, but mostly, he hadn't really cared to go look for her even as the familiarity of her scent should have warned him. But the air is cold around him, and he doesn't take deep breaths to taste anything else than winter in his breath. Besides, she has camouflaged herself, with light and dark or something of the like. Well, not like he looked anywhere else than the straw-like summer grass at this point, but still. He hadn't expected her here, although he could have.
She had a nose for things like these, it seemed.
Oh, he knows he isn't being fair. He hasn't visited her in well over a year now, almost one-and-half. Maybe it was one-and-half already, he doesn't keep much track of time. A humourless half-laugh escapes him as he spits the grass that he'd not exactly chewed yet, and suddenly doesn't care about swallowing either.
He's not even told her about Chryseis' existence yet. But he can't find himself to care, either.
Instead, he lifts his head a few inches to look at her - her gaze isn't even as headstrong as it could be; as he could be - then with one sudden move moves his neck to stare at her directly. Cold, like the winter's day surrounding him, slowly killing the already-yellowed grass directly around his feet.
"I did." It's almost a dare: I dare you to ask, because it'll give me an excuse to explode again, I dare you to be angry with me, because that's the only emotion I can allow in at this point. I dare you to mention her name, so I can show you exactly what she did to me, and what I did to her. I dare you to tell me you've spoken to her, but if you do, I don't think I will talk to you again for some time.
I dare you to think about what would have happened to you, in a similar situation.
Almost a dare? Maybe it's definite. He's staring at his mothers green eyes, and suddenly he does want to know. But she still has to react to his two words, so maybe - definitely - he will explain to her what it feels like. Simply by bringing up his own father.
Seems the only way to get into a thick skull like theirs anyway.
the battle's won, but the child is lost
@[Scorch]
Two things I know I can make: pretty kids, and people mad.
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