07-27-2020, 10:17 PM
i will be brutal
He supposes he was alone in this world the moment he entered into it. Perhaps for a glimmering second Bible loved him, the precious heartbeat of time before she laid her eyes on him. Since then, however, he has been a monster. Each moment is only a different shade of agony to him. This moment, for example, is a gentle ache in which he wishes he were someone else. Someone who could reach out and be kind instead of a hungry serpent just waiting for its next meal.
She says she knows, and her half a second he is distracted from his inner turmoils. Does she? Anonya continues and he eyes her carefully now. If she understands then she might see that ugly core of him. Larva offers a quiet snort of dismissal. He would sooner plunge himself into death’s waiting arms than let someone in again. His heart is a haunted house where every skeleton is real, he thinks.
“I suppose,” he says to humor her for a while longer. She says her name and he does his best not to remember it. There are enough bones etched with his lovers’ names here to last him a lifetime and then some. This has never stopped him, of course, but he finds himself growing uninterested in using her up. It would feel too much like kissing his awful reflection in the river behind him.
“You can come closer. I’ve no intention of harming you,” he explains because her eyes are pleading for something he can’t quite identify. Maybe she’s one of those touch starved girls who will weep on his shoulder the moment he lets her. He wonders if he would recoil from such a thing. “How long have you been alone, Anonya?”
And the moment he speaks her name, he learns that it fits quite nicely along his tongue.
She says she knows, and her half a second he is distracted from his inner turmoils. Does she? Anonya continues and he eyes her carefully now. If she understands then she might see that ugly core of him. Larva offers a quiet snort of dismissal. He would sooner plunge himself into death’s waiting arms than let someone in again. His heart is a haunted house where every skeleton is real, he thinks.
“I suppose,” he says to humor her for a while longer. She says her name and he does his best not to remember it. There are enough bones etched with his lovers’ names here to last him a lifetime and then some. This has never stopped him, of course, but he finds himself growing uninterested in using her up. It would feel too much like kissing his awful reflection in the river behind him.
“You can come closer. I’ve no intention of harming you,” he explains because her eyes are pleading for something he can’t quite identify. Maybe she’s one of those touch starved girls who will weep on his shoulder the moment he lets her. He wonders if he would recoil from such a thing. “How long have you been alone, Anonya?”
And the moment he speaks her name, he learns that it fits quite nicely along his tongue.