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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    he drank my past, like the finest of wines; raul
    #4
    It was violent, the way emotions crashed into him all at once. She'd missed him. She'd missed him. A tongue of anger licked at the base of his skull at the words, at the same time as his heart lurched painfully in his chest. It had been so long since he'd heard that voice, and it stirred the long dormant warmth he'd stored away. 

    Old wounds resurfaced. The pain of her rejection, when they had survived so much together. He'd thought they'd have a future together, that they would face every odd together. And it had all been thrown back in his face. As if nothing had mattered. 

    He let her talk. Truly, he wanted to know what she had to say. If there were any words that could change the hurt she'd done him. When she stepped forward to rest her head against his, the baroque stallion flinched. Until that moment, he had not really believed she was there before him. He'd suffered hallucinations before, it would be no real surprise to have this be more of the same. 

    She was real. Warm, and solid where her skin met his. A shudder of emotion wracked him. His voice was barely audible when he finally found the words to say. "I'm beginning to think I know nothing at all." The breath caught in his chest. 

    He wasn't ready to forgive her. Not until he knew what the hell had really happened between them. But he'd missed the touch of her, the smell of her. He was half tempted to run his lips along her face, to see if the memory of her tasted like the real thing. If he started that, though, he knew he would never be able to stop. 

    It almost killed him to do it, but he had to step back. To put space between them before he lost all sense. The blood red line of his mouth pressed tight to see her. It was a morning like so many others. To see her standing there, illuminated in the dawn light, was every dream he'd had since she'd left come to life. The broad weight of his head shook slowly. "No. We're not starting with me. We're starting with you, and why you left. Only to come back now that you've missed me."

    The last words were bitten off, harsher than he'd meant them to be. A betrayal of the newly reopened wounds now exposed to the morning's light. He would have his explanation before anything else was discussed. 

    @[Warlight]


    Messages In This Thread
    RE: he drank my past, like the finest of wines; raul - by Raul - 12-20-2019, 08:38 PM



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