11-08-2017, 03:59 PM
Solitude, as of late, is more highly welcomed than conversation. Forming in the pit of his chest is a hardened encasement around his heart, a protecting barrier to save him from further ache. During the early hours of morning, Castile brews on his mistakes and weighs their outcomes. It would be more beneficial to be like mother, to be so independent, but when he thinks of his parents he can reflect only on the love they share. It’s what he has yearned for since his childhood, but his desperation has clouded his better judgment.
His desperation broke him.
It would be much simpler to tuck himself into the cave system of Nerine, but he cannot entirely abandon Isobell, not again. Her inner light is what keeps him from withdrawing into the darkness. She, among all else, is his saving grace. She is the reason Castile is harboring himself at the river instead of being recluse, but he still keeps to himself until there is a gentle voice behind him. With a lackadaisical pivot, he looks at the girl and inclines his head slightly. A feeble grin struggles to find the edges of his mouth, but it last a few heartbeats once it does. ”Hello,” he offers in a flat voice, lacking the enthusiasm and amiable nature he typically boasts. His mismatched eyes trace her skeptically as he prepares to address her as Djinni, but there is a subtle difference between the two that saves him from the embarrassment. A brow lifts then both furrow as he straightens himself thoughtfully. ”Are you Djinni’s daughter?” The genie, mother’s closest friend, and practically an aunt to him.
She had more children, siblings to his closest friend, Ivar.
It gives new perspective to this encounter; it softens the hard ridges of his face as they search each other curiously. ”I’m Castile.” Because he isn’t quite sure how else to engage with her without mentioning their parents again.
His desperation broke him.
It would be much simpler to tuck himself into the cave system of Nerine, but he cannot entirely abandon Isobell, not again. Her inner light is what keeps him from withdrawing into the darkness. She, among all else, is his saving grace. She is the reason Castile is harboring himself at the river instead of being recluse, but he still keeps to himself until there is a gentle voice behind him. With a lackadaisical pivot, he looks at the girl and inclines his head slightly. A feeble grin struggles to find the edges of his mouth, but it last a few heartbeats once it does. ”Hello,” he offers in a flat voice, lacking the enthusiasm and amiable nature he typically boasts. His mismatched eyes trace her skeptically as he prepares to address her as Djinni, but there is a subtle difference between the two that saves him from the embarrassment. A brow lifts then both furrow as he straightens himself thoughtfully. ”Are you Djinni’s daughter?” The genie, mother’s closest friend, and practically an aunt to him.
She had more children, siblings to his closest friend, Ivar.
It gives new perspective to this encounter; it softens the hard ridges of his face as they search each other curiously. ”I’m Castile.” Because he isn’t quite sure how else to engage with her without mentioning their parents again.
lmao he's so awkward