"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
10-05-2016, 09:37 PM (This post was last modified: 11-02-2016, 01:47 AM by Kortnee.)
He hadn't found her anywhere in the forest, and he tried not to let that bother him. It wasn't like it was their special place or anything, they weren't really together. It just happened to be the only place he'd ever seen her, or she him. She'd left it completely though, maybe to better hold to her promise. She couldn't accidentally run into him if she were never in the forest again... Why did that irk him so?
So he'd just have to look for her here now, that was all. She didn't seem to belong to a land, and he knew this was one of the last free territories. If she wasn't here... no, she had to be. She was too wild to sign herself over to some ruler's authority. Hah, yeah, he couldn't see her being submissive to anyone's wishes but her own. Or, apparently his. Sort of. She'd certainly kept her distance as she'd promised, hadn't she?
When he finally caught sight of her glorious body, he stopped in his tracks and stared. Should he really be doing this? He was old enough to be her sire, wasn't he? But damn she was so beautiful and wild. What did age matter anyway, it clearly hadn't bothered her when they'd -yeah, lets not go there just now, old boy. There's sort of a gentleman in there somewhere. Maybe. Or a facsimile of one.
There was certainly only the man left and not the beast. The fractured workings of his broken mind had sealed back in place with his journey to the past, to his roots. He stood a little taller, walked a little more confidently, even in this vast area open to so many strangers' eyes. The only feral mannerisms left were simply who he was. He'd always be a bit too wild.
He chose his path and made his way to her, approaching from behind. A light breeze teased his dark hair towards her, as if it too wanted to greet her. Had she caught his scent and tensed? Maybe he imagined it. He stopped.
"Revol..." he called softly, waiting for her to turn to him.
He maintained a deliberate distance between them. Like strangers. His amber eyes never left hers when she faced him, though his nostrils flared at the faintest hint of a man lingering on her skin. Some other man. His coat prickled but he did not comment or give any other hint that he'd caught it. Or that it... might have bothered him. She was her own person and he did not own her, had no claim to her. Yet, somehow, that didn't ease the annoying sting in his chest. Emotions weren't rational.
"Hello," he drawled smoothly, a careful, friendly smile playing at his lips. He hoped she wouldn't mind that he had come to seek her. Ah, who was he kidding, he hoped she'd be damn delighted but he'd be a fool to imagine such a thing.
"I'm Ainlif. It's nice to meet you," he added with a slight tilt to his head, mild amusement in his eyes. Strangers. Let's start over, shall we?
There was an unseen barrier between them, one he'd erected in his mind. Strictly acquaintances, or friends maybe. He could not take a lover, without also having the mate. But he also... couldn't go on so separate from her. He'd know her, even if he was imprisoned to a friend-zone. Maybe one day... maybe there could be more... but, one step at a time.
10-24-2016, 10:19 PM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2016, 11:21 PM by Revol.
Edit Reason: weird spacing
)
Hold back the river, let me look in your eyes.
One step, two, three. She wanders still, her feet as restless as ever. Oh, but there is a sharp edge to that restlessness now, where once was nothing but the soft, almost intangible boundaries of fluffy white clouds floating in a clear blue sky. A splintered, jagged little shard of glass mars the smoothness of her stride, the serenity of her smile, the far-off look in her eyes.
She tried not to let it hurt, the way he’d brushed her off as nothing, the way he’d looked at her with such disgust when she’d told him they could be more without being everything. She tried not to let her heart break, to only bruise a little with the blow of that look in amber eyes as they dismissed her. And it worked...at first. But every time she remembered his face just before she’d walked away forever, her heart got a little more battered, a little closer to broken. Until she finally couldn’t lie to herself anymore. She’d never been very good at lying, after all.
Oh, she hadn’t done anything as stupid as falling for him. Not quite, no matter how he made her heart race, or how he set her body on fire with just a look, a word, a touch. Love takes time, and he’d cut her off long before it could come to that. But she’d been...she’d been his in a way that she’d never been anyone else’s, had given more of herself to him than she’d ever done before, and...well. And he’d turned away in disgust.
The Meadow doesn’t feel like home the way the Forest always did. It doesn’t feel like a sanctuary, or like adventure waits just around the corner. It feels too open, too exposed, too cacophonous and chaotic, but where else is she to go? She isn’t the type to sign on for kingdom life, though perhaps kingdom is no longer the right word. And she promised to do her best not to bump into him again, so she won’t go back on exiling herself from the Forest. So she wanders the Meadow, one step, two, three, and with each step she tries to leave him behind.
And with each step she fails.
She can still feel his touch, lips trailing along her skin. She can still hear his voice, still breathe in the scent of him, though it’s long since faded from her skin. Except that seems a little too real, and she tenses, nostrils flaring to draw in the breeze, the way it taunts her with hints of his elusive scent. She pauses, eyes closed, trying to shut out what couldn’t even quite be wishful thinking, because if she saw him again what could possibly go right?
But then she hears her name. “Revol.” Murmured softly, so softly, and carried to her on that same breeze. The sound trails along her skin leaving tingling in its wake, tangible as a caress, sinking deep into her chest to set her heart to racing. Anxiety and an insidious flicker of want war inside her as she slowly turns to face a familiar stranger, a newfound wariness in her eyes.
“Hello,” he says with a smile on his lips. Lips that had traced her curves and edges, lips that had lingered on her skin, teased and touched and tasted until she was on fire for him. Lips that had curled with distaste when she offered him more of the same. That smile draws her in, makes her want to smile in return, but she just stares, confusion clouding eyes the color of far-away skies.
And then.
Oh, then. “I’m Ainlif,” he says casually, as if it isn’t the biggest thing in the world for him to finally tell her his name. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her eyes widen, and her traitorous heart flickers with something dangerously akin to hope. She doesn’t give into the impulse to rush to his side, but the corners of her lips curl upwards in a tentative smile.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ainlif,” she replies, savoring the feel of his name on her lips. And there is a hint of her old self in the sparkle in her blue eyes as she takes a single step toward him. “What brings you to the Meadow on this fine sunny day?”
Her eyes widened as he shared what was once guarded from her. In his bouts of madness he'd hoped she was only an illusion, a wonderful and enticing illusion. And never hearing his name on her lips would keep it that way, keep it only a delirious dream he could savor again and again. He wasn't the type to take mindless pleasures, to be so intimate with one he didn't know, didn't love. A stranger.
His mind was clear now. He knew what he'd done, and understood he couldn't take it back. He'd sent her away in his shame, and yes also in disgust at what she suggested, that they continue this hungry give and take without commitment and without love. He couldn't do it, it wasn't who he'd been before he'd lost his mate and child, who he wanted to be again. He'd once known honor. He would know it again.
But, each hour after, her absence grew more and more obvious, like a buzzing in your ears you think you can ignore before it slowly drives you to madness. She was his new madness.
He was gone from her presence long enough to return to his roots. As much as was possible from the lands being torn asunder, anyway. After some time there, in the living remnants of the Amazons, he'd burned the beast from his mind. Not entirely, as the monster was a part of his own being, but enough that they were one. He was whole.
And then he'd began searching for her. Like an addict, he would seek this madness until he found it again. And here she was. His beautiful insanity.
A small smile just barely tugged at those lips he'd come to know, had been known to crave, and he stared at it just a little too long. "It's nice to meet you, Ainlif." His lids drifted just a moment, soaking in the sound of it on her tongue. He was surprised how deeply such a simple thing could affect him. It sent his blood racing, made his breath a little shaky. So strangely powerful.
She took a single step closer, saying so much without saying anything at all. "What brings you to the Meadow on this fine sunny day?" So many things he could respond with, and he was stuck on that step towards him. Goddammit Revol. When she'd come closer before, it was invitation. He flashed back to those times, immediately aching for what they had. But he couldn't do it again, not like that. He knew he couldn't. And so began an all-new sort of battle raging within him.
Ah, fuck it.
So much for playing it cool as he'd planned to do the many, many times he'd played this out in his mind. He brushed away all the pointless blue-sky responses and made his move. His gaze held hers intently as he walked closer, stepped into her and touched his cheek to her neck. Stop, stop. You'll give her the wrong idea again. Dammit. He placed a light kiss on her shoulder, and breathed in her scent. He'd done it so many times before, how was it that she smelled even better now? All except that faint trace of another male. Oops.
He froze, then slowly disengaged, dragging himself back to look in her face again. "I'm sorry. That's not.. I hadn't meant.."Damn, damn, damn. What the hell was he thinking, that she'd fallen for him and waited around for him to swoop back into her life? Of course she couldn't have, they were still strangers. Why should she not seek her comforts with another? And here he was walking in like he had a right to. Idiot.
He didn't want to ask her, he didn't want to know. He glanced away to hide the primal, territorial burn flaring to life within him. When he thought it was good and hidden, his amber eyes once again sought her blue ones. "How have you been, Revol?" There. Tactful distraction, right? He still felt guilty for pushing her away so harshly. Had it even hurt her at all? Or had she just pranced right on to the next one?
His name on her lips is enough to set his eyes drifting closed, to savor the sound. Watching it happen sets sparks flaring to life in her belly, sparks that catch fire as he closes the distance between them. He stares into her eyes, an intensity in the unsounded depths of amber that adds tinder to that slowly flickering flame, making it roar to life as he brushes his cheek against her neck, traces her shoulder with his lips, breathes her in. The sound of his ragged breath draws a moan from her throat. God, to touch him again, to taste the salt of his skin, trace the lines of his body with lips that have missed him so.
But he freezes, and she jerks back, breaking their embrace at the same time he does. His apology quenches the fire in her belly, a wave of icy water that drowns out the flame before it can burn out of control. “Good,” she whispers, trying not to let the word sound as jagged as her insides feel. “Because you can’t just…” What? What wouldn’t she let him do? She’d be lying if she said he couldn’t just walk up and touch her and have her falling back into his embrace. One look and she still burned for him, still craved the weight of his body like a drug, still needed feel of his skin against hers. She’d do just about anything to hear one more reluctant groan as he gave into the hunger roaring through him and touched her again.
God, touch me again.
She groaned and closed her eyes, fighting the way she wanted to melt into him, to purr and rub up against him and beg him for anything he’d give her. After all this time, all the hurt and the heartache and the sad uncertainty, all it took was one look and she’d start all over. “You were right,” she said, the words shaking as she fought the gravity between them, dug in her heels and refused to fall into him. “I can’t be with someone who thinks what’s between us is nothing. Who thinks I’m nothing.”
How has she been? She snorts, opening her eyes to meet his carefully neutral amber gaze. “You know, honey, I’ve been better. How about you?”
Her quiet moan rattled his insides like the shake of a rusty chain. Perhaps the very chain that had held the beast separate from him, and who now was so much a part of him. Just like that, he and Revol were the same as they had been; a flaming pair of unlikely lovers. Up until he stepped back, that is.
She dismantled their embrace as equally as he had. It stung somehow, that she would be so quick to pull away when all she'd ever done was reach and grab for him. He'd felt.. wanted. Something clearly not felt in his lengthy isolation. Desired. And powerful. She made him feel powerful. Every touch had fueled her just as much as it had fueled him. To know he could do that to her made him want to try more, explore more of her and find all her little quirks that drove her wild.
"Good. Because you can't just-" she cut herself short. Her voice was soft, but grew sharper. It gave him hope, in a cruel way. Hope that maybe she was hurting, felt the distance between them as he had. Hope that he'd meant something to her. Maybe she'd want him to mean something more. Ah, but he couldn't be such a fool. There was still a man lingering about her. Had she suddenly gone social-butterfly? He didn't think so. Oh well, she wasn't his. She didn't owe him anything.
"You were right. I can't be with someone who thinks what's between us is nothing. Who thinks I'm nothing." Why the hell did that hurt so much? Of course what they had was meaningless. Sort of. It felt damn good, sure. And ok, maybe he seemed to crave it every hour since. But that didn't mean it was something real. It definitely didn't mean she had to agree with him. She never agreed with him. And she certainly wasn't nothing.
His brows tightened and his hard eyes watched her like the prey she'd once been. This cold shell was not the warm-blooded creature he'd enjoyed so many nights ago. She felt foreign now, even smelled a little foreign, and he found he only wanted her back. The one he'd grown a bit fond of. The one that could set his heartbeat soaring. He'd seen a hint of her just before, with a sensual moan that made his mouth water, and he would have her back again.
All his plans of being strangers and working their way up seemed to be tossed out. If this was what she became in that world, he didn't want it. So distant, so cold. Where did her fire go? The fire of passion, or of anger. He'd take either. But not this carefully chill version of her. This dry remnant of her heated glory.
With a face set in determination, he prowled to her again. There was hunger in his eyes, but wasn't there always when she was near? So he ignored it. He boldly returned to his place at her neck, nosing the base of her mane lightly and ruffling her hair with a hot breath. Sweet caresses and teasing warmth. "C'mon, little one," he growled low. His velvet lowered to lip slowly at the curve of muscle in her neck, ignoring the stranger's ghostly fragrance. She could take whoever she wanted, but he would be the one she ached for.
"Where did your fire go?" he taunted her. His teeth clamped down on her skin, pinching hard in a brutal grip. Wake up, my Revol. Don't be so cold.
