KERSEY || the academic executioner of silver cove
As my soon to be dance partner revels in his youth, so I am reveling in mine. I am fueled by my warring emotions. Restlessness grips me. A soul deep lethargy snakes up my legs and roots itself into the pathways of veins and arteries. These feelings keep rising up in my chest until I cannot keep them down. Furious, I fuel my boredom into a wild gallop and leave the Cove without a backwards glance. I let the wind and trees tear a story into my skin. I relish the faint red marks on my coat, a hiss of satisfaction sliding from between my teeth. But it isn't enough. I am not sated. I want more.
I am angry without reason, reactionary without cause. I feel reckless. I want to fight. I want to fuck. My skin feels stretched too tight for the tumult inside me. I will burst and fly open, and all my knowledge will be for nothing.
I hurtle towards the meadow, upsetting a lover's tryst amongst the trees. It is obscene. Sex. A disgusting but necessary act. And yet I can't help the blood rushing to my head as they exchange sultry caresses. They spring apart, one becoming two, and I back away, suddenly light headed.
I need this. I want this.
Khaos, what is wrong with me? I think.
I trot some distance away from the nuzzling couple. I am oblivious to the world in which I so often find myself engrossed. My body, my thoughts and feelings; these have always been predictable, controllable. I have never studied myself because there was nothing to me. I am as I am. But this stranger who stalks the meadow with her myriad of tumbling thoughts bears scrutinizing.
I should go home.
I should ask Khaos, or Kult or Kirin or anyone in the family for guidance. I have a sudden flash of Kirin and Nicia in my head, imagining them caressing and kissing and then taking the positions of the lovers I had only just interrupted...
I shake my head angrily, and it is then that I hear the voice.
I remember him, although it seems he has forgotten me. His name is not lodged within my brain; it wasn't important. He wasn't one of us, and he wasn't a subject I wanted to study and so he was irrelevant.
But now. He is here and he is warm and he is very male. I can see the throb of his heartbeat in his neck and I stare, oddly fascinated.
“You did.” I say, slowly. My voice is low, and breathy. I do not know myself. I step closer, my bright tail held high so that the strands dance around my legs. “I am Kersey. And you are the boy who wanted to play truth or dare.”
My lips hover near his neck, only the warm breath from my nose touching his skin. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, and smell the musk of him. It carries the hint of predator, wolf-like, and I wonder if there is more to him than what I see. I hope there is.
“So let's play.” I whisper.
I hope he aches like I do. I hope pain and longing and boredom fuel his response. I hope we are both possessed by the same demons.
