06-08-2020, 11:11 PM
choke them on the ashes of the dreams they burned
He sees it. Sees that ripple of black fur, sees that defensive look in her eyes when he stepped closer. And though he doesn’t recognize it for what it is — does not recognize that it is a hellhound that she harbors — it still calls to the twisted shadow creature inside of him. It makes the beast inside of him snarl, as though her nearly shifting had been considered a threat; a taunt. He withdraws again, almost abruptly, his face turning to look away from her, gritting his teeth and closing his red eyes as he fights to regain control of every part of him. There is a strange unrest that rolls across him, like waves in a storm, the shadows rippling and twisting until he finds a way to settle them.
He looks back at her, eyes glowing but steady, no longer bright and nearly feral.
He tries to pretend nothing had happened. Tries to pretend he had not just nearly lost himself to the monster that is slowly devouring him, tries to pretend that his own fear is brewing like a tempest in his gut.
“You don’t like to be alone, then?” He asks her, trying — wanting — to understand. He wants to understand her, even just a little bit. He wants to chase away the thoughts of hunger and how sweet her sorrow smells, he wants to forget that he is twisted and deranged and just think of her. “I didn’t used to have to be alone,” the smoke of his voice carefully crafting each word, though he does not tell her of the family he had to leave behind. “But I think it’s for the best, now.” He flicks his crimson gaze to hers. “And you’re right, the silence and the emptiness is the worst part.”
He looks back at her, eyes glowing but steady, no longer bright and nearly feral.
He tries to pretend nothing had happened. Tries to pretend he had not just nearly lost himself to the monster that is slowly devouring him, tries to pretend that his own fear is brewing like a tempest in his gut.
“You don’t like to be alone, then?” He asks her, trying — wanting — to understand. He wants to understand her, even just a little bit. He wants to chase away the thoughts of hunger and how sweet her sorrow smells, he wants to forget that he is twisted and deranged and just think of her. “I didn’t used to have to be alone,” the smoke of his voice carefully crafting each word, though he does not tell her of the family he had to leave behind. “But I think it’s for the best, now.” He flicks his crimson gaze to hers. “And you’re right, the silence and the emptiness is the worst part.”
torryn
