jamie
02-28-2021, 05:12 PM
Jamie
It had been such an effortless thing to say, such an effortless thing to do -- to show her this side of him that no one else had ever seen (not even Livinia), to say that it belonged to her -- but does he have any concept of what it means? Does he have any concept of what it means when she says that she will carry it in her chest?
The shadow thing is not a thing built for love, not really.
Belonging to someone is not the same thing as loving them, not as far as he is concerned.
He is a selfish thing. Greedy. Hungry.
Does this make him a monster?
Is the thrill he feels when she gestures to her own chest a dangerous thing?
Is there anything about this shark-toothed thing that is not dangerous?
She presses her lips to his cheek (and he makes himself solid just to feel her touch because it puts such a delicious pit in his gut to feel it) and he reaches out to press his lips to her chest where she had said she’d keep the plain gray thing he’d shown her. This is where she’ll keep it. He skims the shark teeth against the surface of her scaled skin. It belongs to her.
He lifts his peculiar head and meets her silver gaze with those freakish yellow eyes, knowing he would follow her into the depths. Into that new, crushing darkness. Will the weight be different there?
The first time he ever felt the wetness had been on the battlefield in that pouring rain when he had been made whole enough to fight. He knows that it must mean something that she goes there more often now. He exhales a rattling sigh and remembers how it had pained him to look at her once.
“I would like to see it,” he tells her and he means it. And then he asks, because he has to, because he never told her, “do you know who I am?”
The shadow thing is not a thing built for love, not really.
Belonging to someone is not the same thing as loving them, not as far as he is concerned.
He is a selfish thing. Greedy. Hungry.
Does this make him a monster?
Is the thrill he feels when she gestures to her own chest a dangerous thing?
Is there anything about this shark-toothed thing that is not dangerous?
She presses her lips to his cheek (and he makes himself solid just to feel her touch because it puts such a delicious pit in his gut to feel it) and he reaches out to press his lips to her chest where she had said she’d keep the plain gray thing he’d shown her. This is where she’ll keep it. He skims the shark teeth against the surface of her scaled skin. It belongs to her.
He lifts his peculiar head and meets her silver gaze with those freakish yellow eyes, knowing he would follow her into the depths. Into that new, crushing darkness. Will the weight be different there?
The first time he ever felt the wetness had been on the battlefield in that pouring rain when he had been made whole enough to fight. He knows that it must mean something that she goes there more often now. He exhales a rattling sigh and remembers how it had pained him to look at her once.
“I would like to see it,” he tells her and he means it. And then he asks, because he has to, because he never told her, “do you know who I am?”
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[evia]