06-14-2020, 10:53 PM
Ruined it? Thorn thinks indignantly, biting back a frustrated snort. His usually kind eyes wrinkle into irritation. An angrily crumpled bed, his gaze, haphazardly tangled in the furious rush of one who slept through their obligations, silky smooth and clean while still ugly in delivery.
"You didn't -" the sabino begins to snap, though he soon snaps his teeth together in a successful attempt to hold his tongue. Every atom in his body vibrates with a foreign energy, skin shivering while rising and falling in little mountains and valleys. Thorn doesn't know what this - such anger, such rue - sensation is. He doesn't think to classify it as an emotion as it is one he hasn't felt in a long, long time.
Thorn rebels violently against Clegane's pain, suddenly and viciously aware that he knows intimacy with strangers suffering that even they - the bearers of the pain he knows so well - don't know it like he does.
The scarred man reveals his face but the cursed man is wrestling so determinedly in his mind that he hardly notices the flash of pink and red. Later, when the two part ways, Thorn will recall the slow reveal his glow gave the stranger. The puckered skin. The blood vessels. The way the scar shines just enough to reflect light. He'll wish he had paid more attention.
"I don't think anyone does," the sabino says, quickly following Clegane's admission. His tone doesn't give away the way he battles within.
"What are you most ashamed of, then?" Thorn almost snaps, surprising even himself with such wicked boldness.
"You didn't -" the sabino begins to snap, though he soon snaps his teeth together in a successful attempt to hold his tongue. Every atom in his body vibrates with a foreign energy, skin shivering while rising and falling in little mountains and valleys. Thorn doesn't know what this - such anger, such rue - sensation is. He doesn't think to classify it as an emotion as it is one he hasn't felt in a long, long time.
Thorn rebels violently against Clegane's pain, suddenly and viciously aware that he knows intimacy with strangers suffering that even they - the bearers of the pain he knows so well - don't know it like he does.
The scarred man reveals his face but the cursed man is wrestling so determinedly in his mind that he hardly notices the flash of pink and red. Later, when the two part ways, Thorn will recall the slow reveal his glow gave the stranger. The puckered skin. The blood vessels. The way the scar shines just enough to reflect light. He'll wish he had paid more attention.
"I don't think anyone does," the sabino says, quickly following Clegane's admission. His tone doesn't give away the way he battles within.
"What are you most ashamed of, then?" Thorn almost snaps, surprising even himself with such wicked boldness.
@[Clegane]