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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    let's start a fire they'll remember, anyone
    #13
    The longer she stands there, staring at him with smoldering eyes, the more she begins to waver. Most of her anger has dissipated and turned into regret, and that feeling only became more deeply rooted when she saw that his own fury had subtly began to diminish. He had fed off of her coarse and curt nature, he had snapped back when she had lashed out first. If he had ran into someone quieter, someone easier to get along with, she is sure his interaction would have gone entirely different. She is so sure, now that she takes the time to study the handsome, unyielding lines of his face and the branching of antlers upon his brow, that a softer girl would have been able to coax a kinder part of him to the surface.

    Instead, all she had done was pour gasoline on the fire.

    “You seem normal to me,” she offers in a tone that has softened, in an attempt to not be so offensive. But the way she watches him with such uncertainty written so clearly across her auburn face, it is plain to see she thinks she has already burned whatever could have been there between them.

    But when he offers her the chance to start over, she cannot hide the surprise that sparks across her face, or the hope that dares to glitter in her eyes. “I don’t want you to leave,” she says perhaps a bit too quickly when he suggests it, suddenly stepping forward as she says it. For a moment, she moves as if she is going to reach for him, and she comes within inches of nearly touching his neck before she suddenly recoils, remembering herself and the damage she would cause. She looks to the ground apologetically, her eyes closing for a moment as she steadies her racing thoughts. When she opens them, she finds his own light gray eyes, and most of her frigid guard is gone, and even though she is not completely soft, fragments of her brokenness become more evident. “I hate being alone. I just don’t feel like I have a choice, and it makes me act like...like this.” Cold and guarded, bitter and defensive, when the girl she had been born as had been nothing like this.

    B R I N L Y
    burn until our lives become the embers


    @[brigade]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: let's start a fire they'll remember, anyone - by Brinly - 07-05-2019, 12:33 AM



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