jamie
from the destruction, out of the flame
Evia, she says. And she says it so plainly that it puts a peculiar sort of ache in his chest, in the narrow space at the base of his throat.
He will carry it like a secret caught between his teeth. Those teeth dripping black with ink. The teeth that he could sink into the flesh of her should he choose to. The teeth, the only tangible thing about him. He reaches out with them, skims them along the soft slope of her shoulder so that she might feel him.
“Evia,” he wheezes and then smiles his sharp-toothed smile. He will let it occupy whatever space it chooses within him. All that empty space where the lungs and the heart and the stomach would go should he have one. He will carry it in the joints and in the bones.
He drags in a rattling breath and studies her face through the dark. Such a remarkable thing she is. So terribly beautiful. How painful it had been to look at her when she’d climbed out of the water. How he’d hissed and hid his eyes from here. It had burned him to look at her just as it had burned him to look at Beyza, but the sensation had been so horribly different.
“Yes,” he rasps and then tilts his peculiar head, blinking those big yellow eyes. “Whenever you like, Evia, all you have to do is think of me and I will come.”
It’s not true, he knows. He knows that he does not exist because she has imagined him, but he will let them both believe it anyway. He cannot read her thoughts, but there is no harm in letting her believe that a mere thought will summon him.
you need a villain, give me a name
