06-20-2019, 09:42 AM
OPHANIM
He listens when she speaks and the hurt is evident across his face but he says nothing to stop her. The angel boy just lets her lash out and he takes every bit of it, keeps her anger for himself. Ophanim was never good at being serious and he never wanted to become strong or powerful. In fact, he never really wanted much of anything except friends to keep him company. He lifts his gaze when she’s finished and the apologies come flowing in, watching with his bright blue eyes as she wilts.
“You’re right to be angry, Adna. My son almost died in Loess and I wasn’t there for him. I was burning down Tephra instead,” he says this time without a laugh to steady himself. He remembers seeing all the fresh scars across his son’s tiny body when he came home. He remembers the look of terror across the small boy’s face when Ophanim was bleeding out onto the ground. But how many others have a story just like his now? Can their wives still look at them the same after what they’ve done? He wonders if they feel like monsters or if he is alone even in this.
He steps forward and presses his lips to Adna’s forehead in forgiveness, maybe for her or maybe for himself. There’s no telling at this point and he’s stopped trying to untangle the mess he’s made of his life. “I don’t really know who I’m meant to be either. I don’t want to keep hurting people, but then how can I keep my children safe?” He turns his body so their shoulders are pressed lightly together and he rests his chin over her neck. The fire in his chest still calls for blood but he doesn’t know what to do with all of it. For now, he just pushes it down and lets it smolder in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m not a clever man, Adna. I don’t know a lot of things, but I’m absolutely certain that you are better than you think,” he says as he watches the river continue to flow lazily before them. He keeps his wings tucked tight to his sides but for a moment he considers hugging her close with them. Things are a mess enough as it is, though.
“You’re right to be angry, Adna. My son almost died in Loess and I wasn’t there for him. I was burning down Tephra instead,” he says this time without a laugh to steady himself. He remembers seeing all the fresh scars across his son’s tiny body when he came home. He remembers the look of terror across the small boy’s face when Ophanim was bleeding out onto the ground. But how many others have a story just like his now? Can their wives still look at them the same after what they’ve done? He wonders if they feel like monsters or if he is alone even in this.
He steps forward and presses his lips to Adna’s forehead in forgiveness, maybe for her or maybe for himself. There’s no telling at this point and he’s stopped trying to untangle the mess he’s made of his life. “I don’t really know who I’m meant to be either. I don’t want to keep hurting people, but then how can I keep my children safe?” He turns his body so their shoulders are pressed lightly together and he rests his chin over her neck. The fire in his chest still calls for blood but he doesn’t know what to do with all of it. For now, he just pushes it down and lets it smolder in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m not a clever man, Adna. I don’t know a lot of things, but I’m absolutely certain that you are better than you think,” he says as he watches the river continue to flow lazily before them. He keeps his wings tucked tight to his sides but for a moment he considers hugging her close with them. Things are a mess enough as it is, though.
you could drown in those eyes, i said.