11-08-2018, 12:00 AM
when the light came through,
i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you ;
______________________
She tried to not think about the beach party in Hyaline that had taken place over the summer. A gathering of all the youth in her birthland had been a promising event, one that should have amounted to new friends, and, even if she wouldn’t allow herself to admit it, another chance to be close to the winged prince. She had not been shy in showing her infatuation towards the handsome colt, and he had done little to smother the flames that had sparked. He had done the opposite, in fact, fueling the fire with his lingering touches and gentle embraces. Too young and naive to consider that she was not, in fact, the only one to catch his wandering eyes, it had been an enlightening discovery to meet Ivy and Kensa. Girls were born with an innate ability to see when their love-interest was enchanted by someone else, it seemed, and Rhaegor bolting away from the group and disappearing all together had only cemented her suspicions. More importantly, being deserted by someone she cared about in front of everyone had wounded her in a way she wasn’t prepared for.
Thankfully, Nerine was the fresh start she needed. Her father and Breckin were both gone to Icicle Isle, and even though she was suppose to have joined them, since it was supposedly safe, Chryseis had instead stayed on the mainland. The tall coastal grasses brushed against her knees as she walked, the cold winter wind tugging at her tangled mane. Her coat was thick and dark in preparation for the cold nights and frigid days, and it hugged against her maturing curves as she walked the familiar path that lead towards the coastline. The air smelled of salt and snow, and something — or someone — else. It makes her stop short, her heart stumbling over its beats as she turns her gold blazed face to stare at the winged colt. She can feel the heat rising to her face, but it’s not for the reasons he usually incites; she is not feeling shy and giddy. She’s angry.
Her dark brown eyes narrow, coming to a stop as she tilts her head to regard him with a calculating stare. For a moment, she imagines herself turning around and walking away, or maybe even giving him a taste of his own medicine and just running. But then she thinks that maybe he isn’t even here to see her; he has surely joined another kingdom by now, or was maybe running a brothel of mares out of somewhere, and Breckin probably wouldn’t like if she ran from a guest. And so she walks forward, striding purposefully up to him. She hated that the first thing she noticed was his sweet brown eyes, and the fact that somehow his face had begun to look older and more handsome. Her eyes remain flat-surfaced, steeling herself against the butterflies she could feel stirring, but she lets a small smile rest tersely on her lips. ”Rhaegor,” his name feels like a stranger’s, refusing to taste the familiarity of it. ”Why are you here?” Why did you leave? But she doesn’t ask the question she really wants to ask, the one that has been on her mind since he ran. She just watches him, her face a careful mask of feigned detachment.
chryseis.
and i'm still waking every morning but it's not with you
and i'm still waking every morning but it's not with you
@[Rhaegor]