10-29-2020, 07:55 PM
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
He has often thought his life was a cruel joke that dragged on and on until everyone lost interest in the punchline. And now he’s standing here, in front of the undead queen, professing his love with a heart that has lost its way. His father is dead and he is free and yet he has never felt so trapped in his life. All the fire and the fight has gone out of him, leaving Yadigar as a damp tomb for everything he ever wanted. And now he has it all. God, he wants to hate whatever he’s become.
He watches her with a fog-filled eye as he studies her outline with uncomfortable detachment. When she confesses her love, nothing stirs in him. Nothing exhales with relief or joy or thrill. It all just festers where it is. His jaw clenches as he tries to pry some warmth from the depths of himself. There has to be some withering ember left for him to build a wildfire from.
But he has nothing to give her, now that he’s so willing to give.
“Your heart will starve if you choose me, Breach. My love is a famine,” he warns her, carefully touching his lips to her brow. “Foxes chewing their own legs free from traps are happier than I could ever make you.”
And then he kisses along the curve of her jaw because at least he can feel how warm and soft her skin is. Even fresh from the river and dusted with her own grave dirt, he’s content to taste her now.
“Say you don’t want me, Breach. Don’t let me haunt you.”
He watches her with a fog-filled eye as he studies her outline with uncomfortable detachment. When she confesses her love, nothing stirs in him. Nothing exhales with relief or joy or thrill. It all just festers where it is. His jaw clenches as he tries to pry some warmth from the depths of himself. There has to be some withering ember left for him to build a wildfire from.
But he has nothing to give her, now that he’s so willing to give.
“Your heart will starve if you choose me, Breach. My love is a famine,” he warns her, carefully touching his lips to her brow. “Foxes chewing their own legs free from traps are happier than I could ever make you.”
And then he kisses along the curve of her jaw because at least he can feel how warm and soft her skin is. Even fresh from the river and dusted with her own grave dirt, he’s content to taste her now.
“Say you don’t want me, Breach. Don’t let me haunt you.”