"
He keeps prodding, and I grit my teeth. This is not how it's supposed to go. This is not how I wanted my adventure to play out. Instead of taking my mind off of where I was, he is laying my hunger before us like an invisible third to our meeting. And his thoughts, his quiet second voice is so clueless. My ears fold against my skull, my tail whipping side to side.
"No one asked you." I snap, nostrils wide and quivering. "Just because your mo-mo-mother fusses over you, doesn't mu-mean everyone's is." The words growl from my throat in a husky mutter, the choppy syllables making me more mad. The ghostly blue of my eyes glows dangerously until he catches on and lets the topic go.
I stare him down a moment, trying to let the surge of temper subside. To let it flow from me. It's a hard thing. I've been drinking poison from birth, swallowing ample bitterness with scarce milk. I am hungry and I am sore and I just wanted to get away for a bit. He's talking, and I'm trying to listen and to not be mad, and then it's not anger I'm feeling. It's sadness. Bone deep and all consuming.
There's a sniffle. A choking whine. And then I'm crying openly, fat salty tears falling from my eyes faster and faster until I can't pretend they're not. I am young too, as young as he is and I can't stand the pity he's feeling. I can pretend that everything's okay, but only as long as no one says otherwise. "No-" I gasp, trying to catch my breath. "N-n-n-no." A painful hiccup catches in my chest as he touches me, and I flinch away from the gentle feeling.
I close my eyes so I can't see his face, but that doesn't block out the thoughts that he's thinking. Truth when mouths lie. "I d-don't want to." My head drops to knee level, wishing I had a thick forelock to hide my face behind. I don't though. It's just a silly puff of black that isn't good for anything, and I hate it. A few heavy breaths heave in and out of my lungs, until I'm only hiccuping sporadically instead.
"I wanna see where you live," I whisper, hoping I haven't ruined everything with my display of emotion. Mother would have sneered and driven me away by now, disgust in her eyes and her thoughts. I'm a demon, she says, and demons have no feelings. If I cry, it's to manipulate her, and she won't be manipulated any longer.
@[capulet]
I've seen devils, i've seen saints
I've seen the line between them fade
He keeps prodding, and I grit my teeth. This is not how it's supposed to go. This is not how I wanted my adventure to play out. Instead of taking my mind off of where I was, he is laying my hunger before us like an invisible third to our meeting. And his thoughts, his quiet second voice is so clueless. My ears fold against my skull, my tail whipping side to side.
"No one asked you." I snap, nostrils wide and quivering. "Just because your mo-mo-mother fusses over you, doesn't mu-mean everyone's is." The words growl from my throat in a husky mutter, the choppy syllables making me more mad. The ghostly blue of my eyes glows dangerously until he catches on and lets the topic go.
I stare him down a moment, trying to let the surge of temper subside. To let it flow from me. It's a hard thing. I've been drinking poison from birth, swallowing ample bitterness with scarce milk. I am hungry and I am sore and I just wanted to get away for a bit. He's talking, and I'm trying to listen and to not be mad, and then it's not anger I'm feeling. It's sadness. Bone deep and all consuming.
There's a sniffle. A choking whine. And then I'm crying openly, fat salty tears falling from my eyes faster and faster until I can't pretend they're not. I am young too, as young as he is and I can't stand the pity he's feeling. I can pretend that everything's okay, but only as long as no one says otherwise. "No-" I gasp, trying to catch my breath. "N-n-n-no." A painful hiccup catches in my chest as he touches me, and I flinch away from the gentle feeling.
I close my eyes so I can't see his face, but that doesn't block out the thoughts that he's thinking. Truth when mouths lie. "I d-don't want to." My head drops to knee level, wishing I had a thick forelock to hide my face behind. I don't though. It's just a silly puff of black that isn't good for anything, and I hate it. A few heavy breaths heave in and out of my lungs, until I'm only hiccuping sporadically instead.
"I wanna see where you live," I whisper, hoping I haven't ruined everything with my display of emotion. Mother would have sneered and driven me away by now, disgust in her eyes and her thoughts. I'm a demon, she says, and demons have no feelings. If I cry, it's to manipulate her, and she won't be manipulated any longer.
TARTE
@[capulet]