01-17-2020, 01:13 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Impulsive.
It’s why they are tented by his immense wings, their bodies intimately close. Castile knows better, realizes that this shouldn’t happen, and yet his morals are fleeting.
Possessive.
The reasoning behind his want of her, to have every woman beneath him, just to say it happened – just to say that everything is his.
A breath catches in his throat when their eyes lock beneath the membranous walls. I am, she confesses, and he obediently nods while listening for more. Oceane obliges, of course, and offers an admission of her past, though it only skims the surface. ”Demons,” he echoes into the small space between them, his mind leaping to ideas before settling with mounting curiosity. ”Tell me,” he wants to know her, to understand her. What life she had outside of Beqanna still breathes over her shoulder, and the kindness tucked in his soul wants to extend a helping hand. ”That is, if you’re willing to open up that much.” It’s a lot to ask, he realizes as he slowly curls his wings back, retracting them and opening them up to the moonlight and stars.
If there is one thing their conversation provides, it’s a distraction. For the time being, he escapes all responsibilities as the kingdom slumbers. Beyond the hills, dreams come alive. High in the mountain peaks, his family rests curled up to one another. Cold evenings, even at that altitude, don’t faze them as they huddle against the warm bodies of his father and brother. Their inner fire is a blanket for the others.
It’s rare that Castile does not join them, but tonight, something else lured him from their comforting grip.
”Sometimes,” the word slips unbidden past his lips, answering her before he even considers the question. ”Tonight, I’m simply restless,” he eyes the star-studded sky for a long breath, but looks at Oceane again with his head just slightly tilted and intrigued. ”Meant to be, I suppose,” a chuckle rises, gravely and low in the late hours of the night, ”I wouldn’t have been able to save you from your nightmares had I been asleep on the other side of Loess.” He wouldn’t be here, with her, gravitating toward her coy personality even as Sochi screams through his thoughts.
It’s why they are tented by his immense wings, their bodies intimately close. Castile knows better, realizes that this shouldn’t happen, and yet his morals are fleeting.
Possessive.
The reasoning behind his want of her, to have every woman beneath him, just to say it happened – just to say that everything is his.
A breath catches in his throat when their eyes lock beneath the membranous walls. I am, she confesses, and he obediently nods while listening for more. Oceane obliges, of course, and offers an admission of her past, though it only skims the surface. ”Demons,” he echoes into the small space between them, his mind leaping to ideas before settling with mounting curiosity. ”Tell me,” he wants to know her, to understand her. What life she had outside of Beqanna still breathes over her shoulder, and the kindness tucked in his soul wants to extend a helping hand. ”That is, if you’re willing to open up that much.” It’s a lot to ask, he realizes as he slowly curls his wings back, retracting them and opening them up to the moonlight and stars.
If there is one thing their conversation provides, it’s a distraction. For the time being, he escapes all responsibilities as the kingdom slumbers. Beyond the hills, dreams come alive. High in the mountain peaks, his family rests curled up to one another. Cold evenings, even at that altitude, don’t faze them as they huddle against the warm bodies of his father and brother. Their inner fire is a blanket for the others.
It’s rare that Castile does not join them, but tonight, something else lured him from their comforting grip.
”Sometimes,” the word slips unbidden past his lips, answering her before he even considers the question. ”Tonight, I’m simply restless,” he eyes the star-studded sky for a long breath, but looks at Oceane again with his head just slightly tilted and intrigued. ”Meant to be, I suppose,” a chuckle rises, gravely and low in the late hours of the night, ”I wouldn’t have been able to save you from your nightmares had I been asleep on the other side of Loess.” He wouldn’t be here, with her, gravitating toward her coy personality even as Sochi screams through his thoughts.
castile
@[Oceane]