07-06-2017, 12:02 AM
Jinn
I had a dream that we were dead,
and we pretended that we still lived
and we pretended that we still lived
In many ways, she is fortunate to have been largely oblivious to the toll the Reckoning had taken. He is one of the lucky few who it had benefited. He had had no true home to be ripped from and few friends to miss. His family had suffered, though not nearly as greatly as others. They are like cats, his family, always landing upon their feet. He is truly the unfortunate one, or had been. Not like his dear twin, nor his mother or father, all perfect in their own ways. Nothing like him. His own father had been horrified by him. Had wanted nothing to do with him, with the reminder, the curse, that he is.
And then it had all changed and he had become something new. Something whole. Sometimes he misses the rest of it. The good parts, the light and healing (such a strange and dichotomous creature he had been). But it is better to be normal, in his opinion. Better to be whole, accepted.
And she proves it. Jinju, with her easy friendship and teasing little nips, proves just how much he had been missing before.
Lifting his gaze once more, he finds her with those golden eyes, a lightness suffusing those pale pools as a grin tugs at his lips. It feels almost odd, that smile. It is so rarely he is given cause for such delight. Shedding any discomfort that might have lingered, he simply enjoys the moment. Enjoys the warmth of friendship and the easy, bantering conversation. “Well, I suppose easier is better than harder,” he teases, a faint glint of humor in his amber gaze.
Her next question brings him sharply back to reality, though it is no fault of hers. She couldn’t possibly know the bland banality his existence had become. Really, had always been. Only, before, he’d had his misery to keep him company. Now it is simply himself. Lips twisting wryly, he shifts his gaze out across the river, considering the distant bank as he determines how best to answer that question. Finally, with a short, half-hearted laugh, he confides, “I’m really rather boring, I’m afraid. No fun stories to tell.”
And then it had all changed and he had become something new. Something whole. Sometimes he misses the rest of it. The good parts, the light and healing (such a strange and dichotomous creature he had been). But it is better to be normal, in his opinion. Better to be whole, accepted.
And she proves it. Jinju, with her easy friendship and teasing little nips, proves just how much he had been missing before.
Lifting his gaze once more, he finds her with those golden eyes, a lightness suffusing those pale pools as a grin tugs at his lips. It feels almost odd, that smile. It is so rarely he is given cause for such delight. Shedding any discomfort that might have lingered, he simply enjoys the moment. Enjoys the warmth of friendship and the easy, bantering conversation. “Well, I suppose easier is better than harder,” he teases, a faint glint of humor in his amber gaze.
Her next question brings him sharply back to reality, though it is no fault of hers. She couldn’t possibly know the bland banality his existence had become. Really, had always been. Only, before, he’d had his misery to keep him company. Now it is simply himself. Lips twisting wryly, he shifts his gaze out across the river, considering the distant bank as he determines how best to answer that question. Finally, with a short, half-hearted laugh, he confides, “I’m really rather boring, I’m afraid. No fun stories to tell.”
