09-15-2021, 04:25 PM
I can see through you, see your true colors
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cause inside you're ugly, you're ugly like me
Cheri had lived a life that had never been available to him. A perfect family, a purpose in life, magic. There had only been a small taste for him before it had been swept away when his father disappeared. Tantalize had faded into the jungle not long after that, too stricken with grief to look after the spitting image of the one she had loved and lost. But he had never empathized his mother’s pain like Bardot could, had been too consumed with his own the moment he had been left, lost and alone in a kingdom that no longer had a place for him.
It was a mixture of ugly jealousy and pain that had caused him to lash out at her that day. It had also been something more when she had looked at him, before he had opened his mouth, as if he was worth more than what life had handed him thus far. Something he couldn’t fully understand then but was starting to discover now.
He had always been empty, hard, cold. And then she had ruined it, flaring that heat in his chest and stirring emotions that had long been dead back to life.
His muzzle barely brushes against her skin, grazing slightly along the jagged edges of her crystals, as he reaches down into her and pulls the pain out. It momentarily resides in him, making him frown and wince as stars dance behind his eyes, as he takes it and places it into himself. It starts as an ache, a jab, then a fracture as his golden threads wrap around the hurt parts of her and drain away the residual aftershock of what she had become.
He doesn’t answer her question right away, focused on the task at hand and the building pressure in his head. When the golden light dies and he finally pulls away, he releases that throbbing weight (wondering once more where it always went) and there is no pain on his face, only tired lines beneath his glittering violent eyes. “If they come..” He says, knowing that there probably was no if and only when, “Then I’ll deal with it.” He says with a soft roll of a broad scaled shoulder, not expecting (or wanting) anyone to fight his battles for him.
He does not tell her of the way he is losing more control. He does not tell her that when they come, they will more than likely find a serpent hidden amongst the flowers. He does not tell her that he does not expect to survive such an encounter. Instead he simply gives her that infuriating smirk and says in his quiet mocking way, “You still owe me a favor. Better make that two now, Shield of Justice.”
It was a mixture of ugly jealousy and pain that had caused him to lash out at her that day. It had also been something more when she had looked at him, before he had opened his mouth, as if he was worth more than what life had handed him thus far. Something he couldn’t fully understand then but was starting to discover now.
He had always been empty, hard, cold. And then she had ruined it, flaring that heat in his chest and stirring emotions that had long been dead back to life.
His muzzle barely brushes against her skin, grazing slightly along the jagged edges of her crystals, as he reaches down into her and pulls the pain out. It momentarily resides in him, making him frown and wince as stars dance behind his eyes, as he takes it and places it into himself. It starts as an ache, a jab, then a fracture as his golden threads wrap around the hurt parts of her and drain away the residual aftershock of what she had become.
He doesn’t answer her question right away, focused on the task at hand and the building pressure in his head. When the golden light dies and he finally pulls away, he releases that throbbing weight (wondering once more where it always went) and there is no pain on his face, only tired lines beneath his glittering violent eyes. “If they come..” He says, knowing that there probably was no if and only when, “Then I’ll deal with it.” He says with a soft roll of a broad scaled shoulder, not expecting (or wanting) anyone to fight his battles for him.
He does not tell her of the way he is losing more control. He does not tell her that when they come, they will more than likely find a serpent hidden amongst the flowers. He does not tell her that he does not expect to survive such an encounter. Instead he simply gives her that infuriating smirk and says in his quiet mocking way, “You still owe me a favor. Better make that two now, Shield of Justice.”
obscene
@Cheri
![[Image: Obscene-Pixel.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/fTkjKh9Q/Obscene-Pixel.png){kind=tracking}