I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He can feel the knowledge trembling on the edges of his consciousness, just out of reach. Always out of reach. For the first time since he had woken on the blood-soaked beach, it bothers him. There is something significant here, but he can’t quite fathom it. The understanding serves to make him equally irritable and uncertain. Or perhaps it’s the uncertainty that makes him irritable (he’d never been good at defining his own emotions even when he could remember why he was experiencing them).
He doesn’t know how to respond to her assertion that they had been more than friends, so he does not. The only indication he’d understood what she said at all is the way his lips tighten into a grimace. Still, he can’t help but wonder what had possessed such a lovely and angelic creature to be… friends with the likes of him (had he been in a better frame of mind, he might have wondered where that thought had come from, but the mystery of her keeps him too preoccupied to catch such an insignificant slip).
There is something deeper and more visceral however. Something impossible for him to deny. Primordial in its roots, requiring no memory to understand. Though it wasn’t enough to prove she spoke the truth, there is a familiarity that does make him pause to wonder. A familiarity that stays his feet when he might have otherwise turned to leave what was clearly a tangled and knotted web. One he wasn’t at all sure he wished to unravel.
At the very least, it allows him to bare his teeth in a facsimile of a grin and answer her questions, though his answers undoubtedly leave more questions than answers. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replies, the low growl of his voice losing at least a fraction of its edge. “I remember nothing before waking up on the beach some weeks ago.”
@[Desire]