11-19-2018, 01:07 AM
when the light came through,
i know i've only felt religion when i've lied with you ;
______________________
She wants to be cold. She wants to be able to remain closed off and frigid, even if it was only towards him. She was not jaded, not yet anyway. Even if she spent her nights wondering what she had done wrong, she still spent her days the only way she knew how. She has not stopped being herself, but rather, she has become a quieter, more cautious version of herself. She still is quick to smile at strangers, but she is far more careful. Rhaegor had been a stranger once, after all. A beautiful stranger, that had captivated her attention without even trying, that had left her dreaming and spinning in a way she hadn’t known possible. It was her own foolish fault, she realized eventually, and she wasn’t about to let that happen again.
She likes to think no one else can get to her like that because she’s not letting them. She isn’t ready to admit that she never was, and never would be, in control of what her heart chooses to feel.
They are both silent, which is a rarity for her, but normal for him. He can’t hear the way her pulse is rushing in her ears, and can’t see how difficult it is for her to keep that thin mask of faulty apathy in place. She is silent, but inside she is screaming. She wants to be back in Hyaline, sharing secret valleys with him, and feeling his raspy whispers against her skin. She doesn’t want to be standing here, where only steps separate them, and yet it feels like oceans.
The sea breeze spins her mane and forelock, her gold blaze glittering in the cold sunlight, and still, she is quiet. She doesn’t realize that he thinks she is just as beautiful as she finds him; that he watches the way her hair lifts and tangles just like she traces the angles and lines of his face with her dark brown eyes, or the way the wind ruffles some of the feathers on his brilliant wings. She doesn’t know that he is sorry, just like he doesn’t know that it was not necessarily the act of him running that had hurt her — although that had certainly stung in the moment — but rather, that he never came back.
But the silence that has stretched between them is suddenly broken by his wrenching cough, and just like that, she can’t lie anymore.
Her eyes immediately fill with concern, the rigid lines of her face melting. There is blood on his lips, and she can feel her heart constricting in her chest at the sight of it. ”Rhae,” She speaks his name hardly above a whisper, and she can feel her wall crumbling. She never wanted to fight, and she can’t pretend like she did anymore, not with him in front of her like this. She steps forward, and with her black muzzle she hastily wipes the blood from his shoulder, and then, gently, from his lips. Her own lips move to press against his fever-warm forehead, her eyes closing as a sigh slips from her mouth, followed by her quiet murmur, ”You shouldn’t have traveled this far, not when you’re this sick. And especially not if it was just to see me.” Unexpectedly, she can feel the familiar pin-prick of tears threatening behind her eyes, and even though they well at the front, she doesn’t let them fall, though her voice is tremulous when she says, ”But I’m glad you did. I’ve missed you.” Because she was still just a young, selfish, foolish girl, and even sick and coughing blood, she just wanted him here.
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]