12-06-2021, 10:27 PM
YOU'RE WALKING IN THE SHADOWS OF YOUR FEAR AND YOU'RE HEADED
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
If her tone sounds testy he either does not notice or, more than likely, is simply not put off by it. They have both already seen each other at what they might think is their worst, though he would argue that she does not have a worst, meanwhile he has hardly any good. Whatever good was left of him after being devoured and spit back from the pits of the earth was reserved for her, even if he didn’t always know how to show her.
The good that was left is why he was able to ward off the darkness from consuming him entirely, it is why he was able to change to be something at least almost worthy of being loved by her.
He knows he has failed her time and time again, but he is determined to not let this be another one, even if he does not know what he is fighting against.
He watches her, the dark shadows and almost harsh light of his eyes managing to mask most of the doubt that settles there at her response. There is a tightness to his jaw, not because he is mad at her, or even mad that she won’t tell him what happened—it’s just anger with nowhere to go, no target to fit into his crosshairs and seek some kind of justice. And maybe he will find a release for it later, but looking at her, and sensing the hurt that she is trying to burrow into the center of herself, he knows that now is not the time.
“Okay,” he says on a low exhale, forcing a grim smile. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
The words are spoken evenly enough, and his red eyes hold onto hers steadily. He does nothing to hint at the turbulence in his own chest, at how he cannot stop imagining any and all scenarios that would have resulted in this, and how every last one of them pushes his blood closer to boiling.
Instead, he stands, but only to close the small space that still existed between them. He sets himself directly alongside her, close enough that his shadowed body is all but pressed against hers; close enough to feel the pulse he recognizes even in a hellhound shape. “But you don’t have to do things alone, Despoina. I thought you knew that,” he says quietly, searching her face in the dark.
The good that was left is why he was able to ward off the darkness from consuming him entirely, it is why he was able to change to be something at least almost worthy of being loved by her.
He knows he has failed her time and time again, but he is determined to not let this be another one, even if he does not know what he is fighting against.
He watches her, the dark shadows and almost harsh light of his eyes managing to mask most of the doubt that settles there at her response. There is a tightness to his jaw, not because he is mad at her, or even mad that she won’t tell him what happened—it’s just anger with nowhere to go, no target to fit into his crosshairs and seek some kind of justice. And maybe he will find a release for it later, but looking at her, and sensing the hurt that she is trying to burrow into the center of herself, he knows that now is not the time.
“Okay,” he says on a low exhale, forcing a grim smile. “You don’t have to tell me anything.”
The words are spoken evenly enough, and his red eyes hold onto hers steadily. He does nothing to hint at the turbulence in his own chest, at how he cannot stop imagining any and all scenarios that would have resulted in this, and how every last one of them pushes his blood closer to boiling.
Instead, he stands, but only to close the small space that still existed between them. He sets himself directly alongside her, close enough that his shadowed body is all but pressed against hers; close enough to feel the pulse he recognizes even in a hellhound shape. “But you don’t have to do things alone, Despoina. I thought you knew that,” he says quietly, searching her face in the dark.
T O R R Y N
@despoina