jamie
10-16-2021, 12:50 PM
jamie
I CAN’T EXACTLY DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
They have been here before, though he has no memory of it. But he feels no embarrassment for having repeated himself. (Thoughts and memories are fickle, fleeting things. It is truly no great shock that he has told her this before or that he tells her this again. Perhaps because he does not want her to think he is something that he is not.)
But she edges closer and he stands his ground, watching with those electric yellow eyes.
He has watched her from afar, just as he has watched the rest of them. He knows that there is something cruel about the magic that lurks beneath her skin. Though there appears to be softness, too. He has seen the glass stallion, their children.
She contains multitudes, which intrigues him.
Which is why he does not move to wedge any space between them when she moves to eradicate it. He simply lets her come closer, her stars glinting in the moonlight.
Were he susceptible to the wiles of women, he might have felt a surge of something. Pride? Arrogance? He has been hungry for power since the earliest days of his youth, when he’d turned his gaze to his mother and seen how she bent the shadows to her will. Because he had been something altogether less. He, a child who could not walk without feeling as if he might collapse.
And now he has it. It is not limitless power, no. He knows his weaknesses still. But he flashes her that same shark-tooth smile and recognizes that hers glints with the same dark things his does.
“Not all things are as they appear,” he says. And he lands her with a pointed gaze. As if he knows the way she shapes herself around the desires of others. Desire. And perhaps he does. Perhaps he has watched this from afar, too. Power recognizes power, after all. But he does not come right out and say it.
“You flatter me,” he continues, “but I assure you it’s true.”
But she edges closer and he stands his ground, watching with those electric yellow eyes.
He has watched her from afar, just as he has watched the rest of them. He knows that there is something cruel about the magic that lurks beneath her skin. Though there appears to be softness, too. He has seen the glass stallion, their children.
She contains multitudes, which intrigues him.
Which is why he does not move to wedge any space between them when she moves to eradicate it. He simply lets her come closer, her stars glinting in the moonlight.
Were he susceptible to the wiles of women, he might have felt a surge of something. Pride? Arrogance? He has been hungry for power since the earliest days of his youth, when he’d turned his gaze to his mother and seen how she bent the shadows to her will. Because he had been something altogether less. He, a child who could not walk without feeling as if he might collapse.
And now he has it. It is not limitless power, no. He knows his weaknesses still. But he flashes her that same shark-tooth smile and recognizes that hers glints with the same dark things his does.
“Not all things are as they appear,” he says. And he lands her with a pointed gaze. As if he knows the way she shapes herself around the desires of others. Desire. And perhaps he does. Perhaps he has watched this from afar, too. Power recognizes power, after all. But he does not come right out and say it.
“You flatter me,” he continues, “but I assure you it’s true.”
AND IT LEAVES ME COLD
@Desire