• Logout
  • 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


    show them the joy and the pain and the ending; Dovev
    #11

    This had stopped being a game a long time ago. She had never toyed with him like he was so determined to believe. Never tried to make him be anything other than what he is. Even if she’d had the ability, she wouldn’t have destroyed his memories. She could’ve showed him what had occured, it’s true, but it’s not the same as remembering. He would just be watching a movie of his life, a stranger to his own history. And she needed him to remember. Maybe then he would understand why they could never be together. Maybe then he would understand why she always said no.

    As she breathes through her fury, logic begins to reassert itself. That unassailable rationale that had brought her through these years mostly intact. As her anger cools, she closes her eyes, swallowing a sudden lump that had formed in her throat. Something like sadness almost threatens to rise. Threatens to consume her in the way her rage had. But she won’t let it. Won’t let emotion further cloud her judgement.

    She had already done more than enough to betray herself. If Dovev had even bothered to look, he could’ve read her so easily in that moment. But he won’t. She has come to know him well enough to know subtlety is not his strong suit.

    It’s why she had always felt safe with him. She didn’t need to pretend. To hide.

    As he walks back towards her, she knows she has gone too far. But he is not as angry as she had expected him to be. She had thought she could inspire him to fight back. Only now is she realizing she’s the only one who wanted to fight.

    Give me a reason to stay, he growls. Opening her blue eyes, her gaze settles upon his. It’s not cold, nor fiery with anger. Instead there is simply acceptance and just a bit of weariness in those vibrant depths.

    “You have always been free to leave,” she replies softly, no trickery or subterfuge in the muted timber of her voice. “There’s no reason for you to stay. I can’t promise you anything.”

    She almost stops there. Almost says nothing further. Almost just lets him leave like that. Indeed, she remains silent so long, he had probably already turned away again. She has never allowed herself to be so vulnerable, but something in his plea forces her to give at least some small voice to her fears. “If I knew you wouldn’t hurt me, maybe… it would be different. But I’m not sure I could believe you, even if you promised never to do so.”

    i see your sins
    and i want to set them free

    #12
    dovev

    He was waiting for her answer, holding his breath. Hoping. No, not daring to hope. That'd be fucking stupid.

    "You have always been free to leave. There's no reason for you to stay. I can't promise you anything."

    Yeah, exactly.
    The wrong answer.

    He straightened, his face a mask, his jaw clenched.

    "If I knew you wouldn't hurt me, maybe... it would be different. But I'm not sure I could believe you, even if you promised never to do so."

    Fuck this.
    He turned away, his back stiff.
    Could either of them even promise such a thing? Destruction was what they did, even to each other. And to those closest to them. He could be something to her, he knew he could. She could be something to him. But he wasn't going to ask again. How many times had he tried already? Though not as openly.. He felt he was laid as bare as he could let himself be.

    He'd never been good at emotions; his or otherwise. Not especially his. So he walked. He needed to think. Or to not think for a while. He needed to kill something. Put himself in a stupor of exhaustion, a haze of nothingness. He needed to wake up in a pool of blood and wonder how much of it was his own.

    Good thing he was experienced at that.

    He was built to destroy. Created to annihilate. Oddly enough, for the purpose of protection, though that truth may have been long forgotten by those that knew him. He knew how to do it though. Was the very best at it. He had nothing to lose. And he had everything to fight for.

    He just couldn't remember exactly what that was just then.
    But he would.

    we're slaves to any semblance of touch

    Lord, we should quit but we love it too much






    Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)