12-13-2018, 09:40 PM
She has grown and lived and loved in this time that stretches so vastly between them, makes his face so much less familiar than it might’ve been years ago. But it was less so the decision to be something, to become, than it was the consequence of being trapped in the flow of time. Always forced onward and forward and into things she had no business experiencing.
This Malis, this creature of gleaming indigo, with horns in a cascade down the bridge of her nose, a body that refuses to acknowledge the mortality she had once known, she should never have become a mother. Should never have found such love and meaning in a life that only wanted to ruin her. All she had managed to do was to bring that ruin down on others, break hearts and families and eventually the only man she had ever truly loved.
Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if she had done nothing, become nothing.
She is surprised by the nature of his answer, can feel the furrowing of her brow beneath the whorls and tangles of a dark and indigo mane. It had never occurred to her that he might have started their adventure no better off than when he finished - that while she had been something soft and wild and unnoticed by the wickedness of the world, he had already begun to be unmade. She softens, and it is so subtle, so slight, that the only indication of it is in the way she lifts her nose to his, breathing him in with a sharp flare in her chest.
It is the scent of him that unlocks more of the memory he had been trapped in within her mind. More of the fear and the fury and the unknowingness of what had happened, and why it would have happened to them. She takes a step closer, forgetting him, forgetting herself, forgetting everything but the urge to lean into the pain this lances in a wound across her chest.
Pain is something she understands.
This dark horror is easier than anything else.
She opens her mouth against his neck, breathes hard against him as she runs her teeth from the soft place behind his ear all the way down to the hollow of his shoulder. She is hardly seeing, hardly aware, hardly there at all until the sound of his voice again draws her back to him.
Her mouth pauses against his shoulder, and then she is leaning back to see his face, withdrawing from him with a shadow spreading across those ragged emerald eyes. “I find it hard to believe there has never been anything you have wanted that wasn’t already laid out for you.” Her teeth grind shut, lines of tension appearing in those dark indigo cheeks as she watches him with eyes that are both quiet and skeptical. “I think you must have some idea of who you would want to be, even if you don’t yet know how to be it.”
This Malis, this creature of gleaming indigo, with horns in a cascade down the bridge of her nose, a body that refuses to acknowledge the mortality she had once known, she should never have become a mother. Should never have found such love and meaning in a life that only wanted to ruin her. All she had managed to do was to bring that ruin down on others, break hearts and families and eventually the only man she had ever truly loved.
Perhaps it would have been better for everyone if she had done nothing, become nothing.
She is surprised by the nature of his answer, can feel the furrowing of her brow beneath the whorls and tangles of a dark and indigo mane. It had never occurred to her that he might have started their adventure no better off than when he finished - that while she had been something soft and wild and unnoticed by the wickedness of the world, he had already begun to be unmade. She softens, and it is so subtle, so slight, that the only indication of it is in the way she lifts her nose to his, breathing him in with a sharp flare in her chest.
It is the scent of him that unlocks more of the memory he had been trapped in within her mind. More of the fear and the fury and the unknowingness of what had happened, and why it would have happened to them. She takes a step closer, forgetting him, forgetting herself, forgetting everything but the urge to lean into the pain this lances in a wound across her chest.
Pain is something she understands.
This dark horror is easier than anything else.
She opens her mouth against his neck, breathes hard against him as she runs her teeth from the soft place behind his ear all the way down to the hollow of his shoulder. She is hardly seeing, hardly aware, hardly there at all until the sound of his voice again draws her back to him.
Her mouth pauses against his shoulder, and then she is leaning back to see his face, withdrawing from him with a shadow spreading across those ragged emerald eyes. “I find it hard to believe there has never been anything you have wanted that wasn’t already laid out for you.” Her teeth grind shut, lines of tension appearing in those dark indigo cheeks as she watches him with eyes that are both quiet and skeptical. “I think you must have some idea of who you would want to be, even if you don’t yet know how to be it.”