05-19-2021, 12:00 AM
He asks if it's better.
"Almost," she replies, studying the yellow eyes of the shadows she's knit across his skin, eyes lacking the warmth and laughter of his. That second skin clings enough to give her a sense of the smile on his lips, but its edges are soft and she dares not make them harder.
And in the dark paths of her memory, she is thinking that not very long ago this exact smile had baited her to attack him, the battle in Nerine and the loss of Brennen still so fresh, a papercut across her heart, and this smile was like salt blown in her face. Now, he's found her again, found her with new hurts, new tears burning her eyes and anger like fire in her throat, found her with the same hint of laughter in his, and that same puckish grin.
It's the first one she's seen in a year. The first face. And it is laughing at her, no matter what he says, but she can't even care because she's too relieved to see it.
When he reaches out again, her eyes flutter open, but she doesn't pull away again. Golden light fills the copse despite the way her shadows plucks at the edges, day and night collide. The feather-soft shadows on his skin are cool to the touch, and it's her turn to press forward when he asks her if she believes him, burying her face and her lying eyes in the evergreen smell of him.
"No."
No, because what she knows and what she sees are so different and she'll forget as soon as he's not there to remind her. As soon as she does something awful that makes her run away again. Could he find her a third time? Would he bother?
"But we can pretend. For now."
"Almost," she replies, studying the yellow eyes of the shadows she's knit across his skin, eyes lacking the warmth and laughter of his. That second skin clings enough to give her a sense of the smile on his lips, but its edges are soft and she dares not make them harder.
And in the dark paths of her memory, she is thinking that not very long ago this exact smile had baited her to attack him, the battle in Nerine and the loss of Brennen still so fresh, a papercut across her heart, and this smile was like salt blown in her face. Now, he's found her again, found her with new hurts, new tears burning her eyes and anger like fire in her throat, found her with the same hint of laughter in his, and that same puckish grin.
It's the first one she's seen in a year. The first face. And it is laughing at her, no matter what he says, but she can't even care because she's too relieved to see it.
When he reaches out again, her eyes flutter open, but she doesn't pull away again. Golden light fills the copse despite the way her shadows plucks at the edges, day and night collide. The feather-soft shadows on his skin are cool to the touch, and it's her turn to press forward when he asks her if she believes him, burying her face and her lying eyes in the evergreen smell of him.
"No."
No, because what she knows and what she sees are so different and she'll forget as soon as he's not there to remind her. As soon as she does something awful that makes her run away again. Could he find her a third time? Would he bother?
"But we can pretend. For now."
@[Cassian] midnight phone post when I should be sleeping you're welcome