09-20-2015, 04:27 PM
TAKE ME UNDERGROUND, TAKE ME ALL THE WAY BRING ME TO THE FIRE, THROW ME IN THE FLAMES “There is no going back,” he spits out and there is a finality to the words, his voice punctuating the end of the sentence with both grief and rage. How he wished that there was a way for him to not only rewind the clock but rework himself—making himself into something that was worthy of Oksana. All he wanted was to know that he somehow deserved her; that he had not shattered the only thing that he had cared about and that he could somehow still live that fantasy life he had foolishly thought was possible by her side. He was a dreamer of the dangerous kind; his dreams were not without their consequences. Shaking his head, he narrowed his gaze at the mechanical stallion before him, before rolling his shoulders. “Some things are broken beyond repair.” Uncomfortable, still lathered with sweat and practically shaking with pent-up anger, he snorted and stomped a foot. “I am quite done talking about myself though.” It wasn’t comfortable ground for him; it never had been and never would be. “So why don’t you tell me more about yourself,” he needles, shifting in his spot and considering his temporary companion. “Have you always been able to shift?” he asks, although his curiosity for the subject was shallow. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the story (although he didn’t exactly care), it was just that he was desperate for something to take his mind off of his own wounds—and, currently, all the conversation doing was putting his pain under a magnifying glass. |