jamie
05-19-2021, 09:35 PM
jamie
I CAN’T EXACTLY DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
He retreats and she advances. She has no reason to fear him, she never has. She has seen him at his absolute weakest. The crippled child who could not even bear to look her in the eye so many years ago, the exhausted thing he had been when they’d traveled through the Afterlife together. She knows him better than anyone, he thinks, perhaps even better than Livinia. She knows exactly who he is and where he has come from.
But that also means she knows exactly what he has sacrificed to get here.
There is nothing more she owes him. Whatever debt had existed between them - real or imagined - had been repaid several times over. (And perhaps there is some sharp twinge in the valley between his ribs when she insists that there is nothing she would have denied him. The same blade he’d felt when she’d made it clear once that they were not friends - the only time he had ever denied her.)
“We had a plan!” he snaps and those freakish yellow eyes go perfectly black so he is nothing but shadow and shark teeth and unbridled fury.
Love. He scoffs, cannot help it. There are so many greater things than love! What a childish thing to want! Can she not see that she is above love! But he will not try to make her see. He does not have a chance before she is insisting that the daughters are hers alone and the eyes flash an electric red.
He does not lunge. Everything in him runs cold. The fog that has descended around them turns from dark gray to deep black. He draws in a long, rattling breath, calculated. “Your daughters?” he echoes, the voice quiet as death now. He takes a measured step toward her, steady. A predator. “You would have no daughters if it weren’t for me, Beyza.”
But that also means she knows exactly what he has sacrificed to get here.
There is nothing more she owes him. Whatever debt had existed between them - real or imagined - had been repaid several times over. (And perhaps there is some sharp twinge in the valley between his ribs when she insists that there is nothing she would have denied him. The same blade he’d felt when she’d made it clear once that they were not friends - the only time he had ever denied her.)
“We had a plan!” he snaps and those freakish yellow eyes go perfectly black so he is nothing but shadow and shark teeth and unbridled fury.
Love. He scoffs, cannot help it. There are so many greater things than love! What a childish thing to want! Can she not see that she is above love! But he will not try to make her see. He does not have a chance before she is insisting that the daughters are hers alone and the eyes flash an electric red.
He does not lunge. Everything in him runs cold. The fog that has descended around them turns from dark gray to deep black. He draws in a long, rattling breath, calculated. “Your daughters?” he echoes, the voice quiet as death now. He takes a measured step toward her, steady. A predator. “You would have no daughters if it weren’t for me, Beyza.”
AND IT LEAVES ME COLD
@[Beyza]