I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
There is a heavy coldness inside his chest he tries to ignore. There is anger there too (there is always anger), but for once it is not the only thing. He almost wishes it were. It’s so much easier to deal with. So much easier to fucking understand. If he were more attuned to emotions other than rage and self-loathing, he might have recognized it as grief.
Instead he knows only that he wishes it were not there.
Casimira would not have been wrong to assume he might lash out at her words. Any other time, he almost certainly would have. But something in knowing Ryatah is dead, in knowing that this daughter of hers feels sorrow, stays his hoof. Perhaps it's his own sorrow - that cold, heavy stone in his chest - that keeps his anger leashed. Or perhaps it’s merely the knowledge that it wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.
He returns her stare instead, hard black against icy blue, muscles tense as her irritation makes her lash out. It might be a gently spoken reprimand, but it could be mistaken for nothing else. For a long time, he is silent, but when he finally does speak, it is to say something he might never have said in any other situation. “She always left, at first. Just like I did.” Wings tightening, Ashhal works his jaw, already regretting his words. “When she stopped trying to leave, of course I didn’t fucking believe her.” His words are rougher now, tone like gravel. This might be the only time he could ever say it. Might be the only time he ever felt vulnerable enough to say it. “But by the time I did, it was too goddamned late. So no, I don’t fucking count on it.”
He wouldn’t deny his own fault in their doomed relationship. Couldn’t deny it. But neither would he hide his bitterness over it. She is the only one who had ever even come close to splitting him wide open. Fairy tales would have everyone believe that’s enough, but he fucking knows better. He supposes he should consider himself lucky she had come to her senses before he completely lost himself. He wishes he could.
It’s only when she utters her abrupt admission that he is brought jarringly back to reality. His gaze focuses, entire body stiffening as the words reverberate in his skull. Inhaling sharply, he takes a step back, eyes going flat. “Fuck,” he growls, eyeing her with renewed wariness. For a few heartbeats, he simply stares, a muscle ticing in his jaw. “Why the hell are you telling me this now?”
@Casimira