[private] I want you to know... that I'm all yours [Offy]

[Offspring]

I'm holding on; why is everything so heavy?
Holding on; so much more than I can carry.

  Unblinking, he watches as her anger rises, unimpressed by her physical show of strength - as if it meant anything at all. She could end him, he is all too aware – she is powerful, a force to be reckoned with, wielding a power he could never wholly fathom, but she is still the same soft and timid creature that had wept into the entanglement of his dread-locked mane. She is still the mother of his fiery, unwieldy daughter. She is still herself, even beneath the rage that has inevitably coiled within her chest, poured into a passionate display of height and prowess, and he cannot see anything but the gentle lover that had once carried his darkness with tenderness and care.

  He is annoyed, scarlet-laced gaze boring into her own with a hardened stare – he is tired, frustrated, aching and worn; he does not have the patience to withstand her theatrics.

  ”Then do what you will! What do I care?” he utters sharply with a frigidity that is not at all characteristic of him – and his gaze is cast toward the roiling sea, where the unruly tide crashes into the jagged precipice with force. There is an anger of his own, an anger he cannot speak of, an anger that he does not understand, but beneath it there is raw emotion, though he dares not let it see the light of day. ”and for you to speak of being burned, as if I cannot imagine it – how dare you. You of all others know better.” He challenges, as a flicker of fire emerges along the deep slope of his spine, crawling along the ridged bone and into the entanglement of his unkempt tresses.

  ”I cannot give you what you seek. I am old, and one day, time will take me – as it has taken all the rest.” (and there is a part of him that desires it; a part of him that has always wanted Death – but there is a larger part of him that is uneasy with it, unsure of what would await him on the other side) ”You do not want me, Reagan – you want what I once was, and even that?” He breathes, the anger melting away as his shoulder is twisted away, while the broadness of his blackened, marred body is turned toward the heart of the island, as his legs carry him away from her. ”Even that, no one deserved.”

OFFSPRING

I keep dragging around what's bringing me down;
If I just let go, I'd be set free.

@[Reagan]