She wonders what it would be like to be like him. She recognizes that familiar flat darkness in his eyes, that same unreadable expression that so many of the men that she knew wore. Like them, it was impossible for her to gauge what he was thinking or feeling, or if he was feeling anything at all. She wonders if his lack of heart makes the apathy easier to come by or if it has always been natural.
And then there is her, with light seeming to glow from all the cracks she can never heal from, with eyes like broken glass that can do nothing but watch him. She could hardly hide anything right now, and she felt everything.
Even if she had the choice, though, she doesn’t think she would choose to feel nothing. Whenever she had felt numbness creeping in that was exactly when she seemed to spiral harder and faster in a desperate attempt to shatter through that almost impenetrable veil; she would rather be lit aflame if it meant she could just feel something.
“Giving up?” There is a tone of surprise that seems to lend an edge to her voice, which is a rarity for her and not exactly intentional. She angles her delicate head towards him, the golden light of her unfit halo reflecting off her dark eyes, and a small smile accompanies a shake of her pale head. “I don’t think it’s considered giving up when no one cares that I was even fighting.” She says, as though she could ever stop; as though she wouldn’t cut herself against their blades and bleed herself dry for just a minuscule amount of attention.
As if she could simply just stop being everything that she is.
The wind stirs the angel-feathers of her wings, and she shifts the weight of them, her muscles taut and aching with tension from holding them. She doesn’t realize yet that she could heal the bruised and sore skin that borders where her wings had broken through, and the dried blood still clings morbidly to her porcelain white skin. “It’s awfully social of you to not be hidden away in Tephra, by the way. You must be bored.” She deflects the conversation away from her and her short-comings, for now, expecting that he would grow tired of her presence soon, anyway.
