07-18-2019, 02:39 PM
OPHANIM
He has never been on a first name basis with anger and so he doesn’t feel any semblance of rage ignite within him when she bared her teeth. Ophanim is a perfect little punching bag who smiles with a busted lip and says thank you. The angel boy learned at a young age that the loneliness he and Adna feel is a fracture that will never heal quite right. Like a crooked bone set all wrong, it’s always there to remind them of that familiar ache even when the sun shines brightest on their faces.
He feels the quaking in her skin as all her secrets come tumbling out like rotted apples for him to eat. But he doesn’t step back or sneer in disgust. His embrace just grows a little tighter and he sighs weakly against the tangles of her mane as she speaks of hunger that would consume this planet if it only could. Though they do not share this same curse, he ears a similar burden in that his heart is a bottomless pit that can never know satisfaction. It just waits for more love to be poured hopelessly into it.
“You are not your hunger. You are not the things you’ve done or will do,” he whispers so delicately against her ear. He closes those bright blue eyes and smiles like he hasn’t slept in centuries. “You are Adna, capable of as much good as you are evil.”
The idea of her harming someone or something on purpose is foreign to him and the image can’t form clearly in his mind. Maybe she’s tasted blood and found it to her liking. If she did, would he still call her his friend after learning that violence disgusts him? Ophanim likes to think he would but he doesn’t delve too deeply into it for now.
“I just like to think of you as my friend. I don’t need anything beyond that, really.”
He pulls his head back only to lightly bump her cheek with his nose, leaving it there for a few moments longer as he seems to consider saying more.
He feels the quaking in her skin as all her secrets come tumbling out like rotted apples for him to eat. But he doesn’t step back or sneer in disgust. His embrace just grows a little tighter and he sighs weakly against the tangles of her mane as she speaks of hunger that would consume this planet if it only could. Though they do not share this same curse, he ears a similar burden in that his heart is a bottomless pit that can never know satisfaction. It just waits for more love to be poured hopelessly into it.
“You are not your hunger. You are not the things you’ve done or will do,” he whispers so delicately against her ear. He closes those bright blue eyes and smiles like he hasn’t slept in centuries. “You are Adna, capable of as much good as you are evil.”
The idea of her harming someone or something on purpose is foreign to him and the image can’t form clearly in his mind. Maybe she’s tasted blood and found it to her liking. If she did, would he still call her his friend after learning that violence disgusts him? Ophanim likes to think he would but he doesn’t delve too deeply into it for now.
“I just like to think of you as my friend. I don’t need anything beyond that, really.”
He pulls his head back only to lightly bump her cheek with his nose, leaving it there for a few moments longer as he seems to consider saying more.
you could drown in those eyes, i said.