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hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before; oksana - Makai - 11-08-2015
The sickness is coming on faster each and every day. He can feel it creeping along his bones—burrowing into his marrow. Blood now flecks his lips when he coughs and his ribs are beginning to show against the sides of him, so much so that fingers could trace along their morbid patterns. And yet, he does not return to the Chamber. He does not stop running until exhaustion every day. It as if he is tempting fate to just cut the life cord already—and maybe he is. Maybe all he wants is to just have it all end. MAKAI I'm a dead man walking here RE: hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before; oksana - Oksana - 11-08-2015 you taught me the courage of the stars before you left how light carries on endlessly, even after death Her wings tucked close to her sides and suddenly she was hurtling through the bright blue like a red comet, falling, falling, until at the last moment they flung wide and red, all leather and sinew, and her hooves met the crush of soft spring ground with little resistance. Hardly a second had passed and her skin prickled like she was being watched. She knew instantly, how could she not. Her wings shrink and tuck against her sides and over her back just a second before his mouth crashes against her neck. She doesn’t push him away though, and she knows she should, it’s like an instinct, like the way lungs scream for air when they’re sunk like ships at the bottom of the ocean. But she needs the moment as much as he does, craves the heat that flares in her veins and the adrenaline that burns away in her chest. At least she isn’t surprised when he pulls away, isn’t reduced to rubble when he tears away another piece of her foolish heart. “Don’t tell me no.” She warns him with a frown, eyes shadowed and emerald beneath a furrowing brow. She is quiet for a moment and her expression deepens, those eyes hardening as they trace the valleys between his ribs, the hollowness of his dying face. “They’re with their father.” She says at last, and though her face remains unchanged, her heart flinches in her chest. It isn’t regret though, not even a hint of it, just sorrow as the fissures between them widen further. He coughs and she flinches again at the way his lungs rattle like dead leaves on brittle branches. “It isn’t enough to break my heart, then?” She says quietly, those emerald eyes fixed on his. She makes no effort to move closer, even despite the way she aches to fill those valleys with kisses. “It isn’t enough to send me away. You needed to let me see you like this?” Her heart explodes a thousand times over again in her chest and she can hardly look at him, can feel her jaw tremble with tension at the way she forces it to be still even as she’s falling apart. “I’m not good enough to love you, but I’m good enough to watch you die?” She can’t help it, she turns her face from him then, hides the hurt and the disgust and the anguish that paints itself like the truth over her delicate chestnut face. His words bury themselves likes hooks beneath her skin and she turns back to him, not entirely composed but also no longer falling apart by the weight of their sheer proximity. “It didn’t take me long to what, Makai?” She says in a voice that is dangerously quiet, dangerously low. oksana RE: hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before; oksana - Makai - 11-09-2015
He knows it is perhaps not fair to pick a fight with her when he is so clearly on the edge of death, but he has never been overly concerned with fighting fair—just with winning. Specifically, with winning her. All of the reasons he had believed before about needing to push her away had evaporated in his head, all of the self-convincing that he had done was forgotten. Instead, he stood before her shaking and feverish, his eyes rung with white and his nostrils flaring so that you could see the pink lining and the blood flecks. MAKAI I'm a dead man walking here RE: hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before; oksana - Oksana - 11-09-2015 you taught me the courage of the stars before you left how light carries on endlessly, even after death She turns from him, exhausted. “A life with you is the only one I’ve ever wanted and yet you force me to have it with someone else." He stumbles closer and she lets him, but she makes no effort to close the yawning gap between them. It kills her though, like claws digging in her chest, gnawing through her heart, he is close and he is dying, and she cannot shake the fear that as soon as she touches him he will leave again. Disappear like a ghost. But what he says next astounds her and she cannot help the way her body recoils from him in the wake of her shock. “You think I’m in love with him?” She asks in a voice that is low and soft and shattered. “Makai, you are the only one I have ever been in love with. Whatever your soul is made of, mine was made from the same.” She doesn’t tell him that she doesn’t love Dempsey, it wouldn’t be true anyways, she did love him. But it was in the same way she loved Straia, it wasn’t intimate, it wasn’t romantic. When Makai had shattered her to dust, Dempsey had scooped up the pieces so she wouldn’t be lost forever to the wind. The friendship forged from that was strong as iron. But she didn’t know how to explain this without pushing him further away- she wasn’t even sure if he would believe her. So she let it be. Instead with a hollowed out smile that sucked the light from her shining emerald eyes, “Of course I believed you, how could I ever be enough?” Makai coughs again, but it doesn’t fade like the others before it. Instead she can see the tightening of muscle beneath skin stretched too thin, too tight, and they ripple and quiver and heave with the effort of remaining. He coughs again and the sound is wet. Her mouth breaks with the crushing weight of the frown that appears there as she notices the blood on his lips and in the grass. “Makai.” She whispers, and her voice is filled with loss and anguish and possessiveness all at once. “Oh, Makai.” And she is at his side immediately, her shoulder braced against his, her nose wiping away the blood as it beaded on his lips. “I never knew why you settled for me,” she says filling the place beside him, “you are so much better. Than me, than this. Fight it.” And she know it’s true, crushed selfishly against his side with her mouth pressed to his. To his cheek, to his neck, to his heart beating sluggishly in his chest. She is so weak, so greedy, so willing to drown in this moment even though he’s like a knife buried in her chest and as soon as he pulls away, removes that blade, her life will bleed into the dirt at their feet. His voice is so soft that she nearly misses it, drowning so eagerly as she is with the feverish heat of his skin pressed to hers and his scent burying itself in her nose. “You’re wrong, as usual,” she says quietly, her eyes hidden in the shadow of his dark face, “there’s no one waiting for me.” A bitter, strangled laugh that she cuts off just as quickly as it tumbles from her lips and then a quiet, agonized murmur of dissonant sound, "I will never be enough." You should know that, she thinks with her face pressed selfishly to his neck. oksana RE: hold on, this will hurt more than anything has before; oksana - Makai - 11-10-2015
Whatever stretches between them will never be kind. He had hoped it would be once; he had hoped that he would be able to provide her with a gentle love, the kind he had never experienced. He had wanted to walk with her in the sunshine and cradle her at night and whisper every sweet nothing into her ear because she had deserved it. Lord knows that she had deserved it. And what had he given her instead? He had just given her pain, anguish, sorrow. He had selfishly taken from her and given little in return; he had used every intimate knowledge he had gathered and weaponized it because he was weak— MAKAI I'm a dead man walking here |