08-16-2017, 10:58 PM
Ellyse
I know some things that you don't; I've done things that you won't
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home
She has been hurt, before –
And as such, she has learned with time how to fiercely guard her heart, feigning indifference and wearing a thick armor of disdain and stoicism. Yet, beneath the still and unmoving surface of it all, the emotion rising within her was often as tempestuous as the wild and unwieldy sea that lay along the horizon. She is impulsive, often permitting her anger to take the rein, resulting in a sharp or scathing word, while a festering grudge is settling like the heavy sediment drawn down to the bottom of the ocean – thick, viscous and unyielding. Alas, it is her most fatal flaw.
She can see, yet again, how it has scorned another –
She had spurned Magnus in much the same way long ago (oh, but Ledger does not know how she had pushed him away, or how she had torn him apart to preserve her own bruised ego and bleeding heart), and some distant remnant from the broken heart that had once been twinges with a pang of discomfort in her chest at the thought of him. She had never been at ease with her own emotions, and she had been even less at ease with the thought of being out of control, with the idea of being anything but whole – she was a force to be reckoned with; a warrior through and through with an iron defense to show for her time spent in solitude. Nevertheless, despite the forged strength she strives to portray, and the welling emotion she so often suffocates before it has ever had the opportunity to surface, she is, beneath it all, not what she seems.
Alas, such thoughts are fleeting, and in the end only serve to remind her of the mistake she had made once before. She had never given herself away - not to Magnus, not to anyone – not wholly; only a small part of her and only for a time before she would inevitably recoil and draw away into herself again. A part of her had loved, and a part of her had lost, and it had nearly caused her to unravel, but time had mended the tender wound and left little else but a scar that ached only when her darkened hazel gaze has settled upon his.
It held no candle to the way Ledger stirred her heart into a rapid, thundering pace, or the way she could never seem to stop thinking of him – there was something so much more to the alluring electricity crackling between them (even now, with so much unsaid, with so much ache and longing and resentment roiling in the void). As her pale mouth presses against the crook of his jaw, breathing the salty sea breeze and sunlight that lingered on his skin, she is all too aware of how she had never felt in such a way for anyone before, in all of her time –
And it terrified her.
(He would not merely unravel her –
– he had the potential to destroy her.)
She can see the emotion shifting through the tension of his strong, handsome face, and she is quiet, waiting with baited breath for something, for anything to be uttered from his lips, and when it finally does, her heart is hammering once again. And I, you, I have missed you, and there is a whirlpool of relief and of trepidation churning within the pit of her anxious belly, as her forehead presses flatly to the hollow of his throat.
Finally, after a long moment, her gaze is once again seeking his own, stepping forth to impede his attempt to avert his single eye away from her –
”Then don’t,” she breathes, the ridge of her brow furrowing, and though her mind is screaming at her not to say it, to self-preserve, to protect her wayward and wild heart, it is whispering, if you don’t, you will never know, you will lose him.
”I need to know,” she murmurs, her voice hushed, barely rising from the tightness of her throat. ”I need you to tell me what is on your mind, Ledger,” and it is little else but a whisper now. A plea. ”I cannot know if you do not tell me.”
And as such, she has learned with time how to fiercely guard her heart, feigning indifference and wearing a thick armor of disdain and stoicism. Yet, beneath the still and unmoving surface of it all, the emotion rising within her was often as tempestuous as the wild and unwieldy sea that lay along the horizon. She is impulsive, often permitting her anger to take the rein, resulting in a sharp or scathing word, while a festering grudge is settling like the heavy sediment drawn down to the bottom of the ocean – thick, viscous and unyielding. Alas, it is her most fatal flaw.
She can see, yet again, how it has scorned another –
She had spurned Magnus in much the same way long ago (oh, but Ledger does not know how she had pushed him away, or how she had torn him apart to preserve her own bruised ego and bleeding heart), and some distant remnant from the broken heart that had once been twinges with a pang of discomfort in her chest at the thought of him. She had never been at ease with her own emotions, and she had been even less at ease with the thought of being out of control, with the idea of being anything but whole – she was a force to be reckoned with; a warrior through and through with an iron defense to show for her time spent in solitude. Nevertheless, despite the forged strength she strives to portray, and the welling emotion she so often suffocates before it has ever had the opportunity to surface, she is, beneath it all, not what she seems.
Alas, such thoughts are fleeting, and in the end only serve to remind her of the mistake she had made once before. She had never given herself away - not to Magnus, not to anyone – not wholly; only a small part of her and only for a time before she would inevitably recoil and draw away into herself again. A part of her had loved, and a part of her had lost, and it had nearly caused her to unravel, but time had mended the tender wound and left little else but a scar that ached only when her darkened hazel gaze has settled upon his.
It held no candle to the way Ledger stirred her heart into a rapid, thundering pace, or the way she could never seem to stop thinking of him – there was something so much more to the alluring electricity crackling between them (even now, with so much unsaid, with so much ache and longing and resentment roiling in the void). As her pale mouth presses against the crook of his jaw, breathing the salty sea breeze and sunlight that lingered on his skin, she is all too aware of how she had never felt in such a way for anyone before, in all of her time –
And it terrified her.
(He would not merely unravel her –
– he had the potential to destroy her.)
She can see the emotion shifting through the tension of his strong, handsome face, and she is quiet, waiting with baited breath for something, for anything to be uttered from his lips, and when it finally does, her heart is hammering once again. And I, you, I have missed you, and there is a whirlpool of relief and of trepidation churning within the pit of her anxious belly, as her forehead presses flatly to the hollow of his throat.
Finally, after a long moment, her gaze is once again seeking his own, stepping forth to impede his attempt to avert his single eye away from her –
”Then don’t,” she breathes, the ridge of her brow furrowing, and though her mind is screaming at her not to say it, to self-preserve, to protect her wayward and wild heart, it is whispering, if you don’t, you will never know, you will lose him.
”I need to know,” she murmurs, her voice hushed, barely rising from the tightness of her throat. ”I need you to tell me what is on your mind, Ledger,” and it is little else but a whisper now. A plea. ”I cannot know if you do not tell me.”
head of war of tephra
daughter of elysium & speck
daughter of elysium & speck
@[Ledger]