08-01-2015, 01:53 PM
 She waits in the empty space of her offering and what he will do with it. She hovers in the silence, anticipating rejection and acceptance equally. Everything funnels down to a span of time that is likely less than a minute; she is frozen in a way that she’s never been before, more than her body has ever forced upon her. She realizes it’s because she’s never had to question this kind of approval from another. Tiphon’s love has always been there, an unspoken bond that only dozens of years of living together can form. She’s never questioned that he cares for her deeply – just as she expects he knows it of her – but his refusal to say so has hollowed her. It’s pulled apart the finely crafted seams that had once been enough to keep them together, despite his wanderings and her worries. It’s scooped out the core of a relationship that has already borne fruit. Until recently, Talulah hadn’t had a name for the emotion, because she hadn’t ever felt it before. Insecure, she thinks, knowing now. But maybe there’s a reason for it. It reminds her of Tiberios, in a way. She remembers how the black sabino had looked at her once, with a mixture of longing and openness she’d thought was only a friendship for the longest time. She thinks now that it was so much more for him. Had she known, would she have done anything differently? Would she have sunken below the tumultuous waves of uncertainty that she now drowns under? Would she have been so passive when she’d learned that there were other children, other lovers? She thinks not. Tiberios had been fire in all ways, and she knows he would have met her challenge with the intensity of a thousand burning suns. It hadn’t come to that. He’d had to question plenty, though, and it’s only fair that the tables have turned on her. Karma, or something akin to that. The moment stretches on as the blue-grey stallion searches her. She accepts the search because even in her numbed state, she knows she would have done the same. His eyes trace over her, golden anklet to amber gaze, and she finds herself almost enjoying watching him watch her. It’s more deliberate than a cursory glance, and any other time, she would have enough humility to look abashed at his interest. But as she’s said, today is not one of those days. She meets his eyes steadily, borrowing some fire from an old friend so that they glint in the sun. He gives his name, and it’s as good an acceptance as any. Jason searches for attraction in her eyes, and he surely finds it there. Attraction and sadness, confusion and yearning. She wants to hurt and to heal all at once, and she thinks maybe Jason is the one to help her with both. “Today is mine,” she says by way of explanation. The words feel selfish and foreign on her tongue – her voice is not her own – but they feel right in this moment. She steps closer, near enough to touch but refraining for now. “I’ve spent all my days solely for my kingdom and for my son.” Talulah pauses, a mistake in an until-then unblemished sell. What will he think of her having a child? And more importantly, why does she care? She presses on. “I’ve given days for my home and for those living in it.” She looks away across the rolling hills that are like the Dale, but are not home. Maybe that’s why she’s chosen the Gates, because they are similar in many ways. Beyond the greenery, though, there’s a historic kindness in the people. Maybe it’s what she’s needed more than anything. Talulah looks back at Jason, smiling wanly, tiredly. She knows what she wants, but she hesitates on the threshold of it. Tiphon has hurt her, certainly, but she’s never spoken a word of it to him. Isn’t it her responsibility as much as it is his, then? She shakes her head marginally, her mind made up. “I just want one day.” She touches him gently under his jaw, breathing out before withdrawing. “Today can be yours’ too, if you want.” lady of the Dale |
