07-01-2020, 05:32 PM
let me die on your altar, sweet death in agony for you.
@[caledonia]
He doesn’t understand why his heart commands him to kiss her. It makes no sense, given that it has remained entirely uninvolved in his life up to this point. But somehow, seeing Caledonia awakens all the emotions it keeps hoarded to itself and he has no idea how to dam the flood of affections pouring themselves over her. It nearly makes him dizzy the way it all comes swirling into his thoughts but he holds on enough to hear her when she says her name.
“Caledonia,” he repeats, his tone wavering nervously. “I’m Eucharist, but you can call me Charlie. Everyone else does.” He forgets that she already knows his name and even spoke it to him just moments ago. But what has been said cannot be undone and so he turns his head to stare off at something - anything - else for a moment until he regathers his composure. He clears his throat and only spares her a glance when she asks her question.
“I.. I guess I feel… more confident, for one thing,” he confesses, a quick laugh tumbling from him. “I feel in control, when I’m not near you. I’m beginning to wonder which is the real me, though.”
And then he brings his gaze back to hers, his green eyes studying her curiously as he tries to pick apart why she makes him feel so different. He’s been around women before, certainly, and he supposes they could be called lovely in their own regard. But somehow she is entirely unique in her effect on him. Eucharist finds that he is unable to pick out a single thing he does not enjoy about her - the perfect white of her, the soft look of her eyes, the soft feathers of her beautiful wings. It all works in perfect harmony to destroy his defenses.
“Do you have some kind of magic that makes me feel this way?” he asks finally, now scrambling for answers.
“Caledonia,” he repeats, his tone wavering nervously. “I’m Eucharist, but you can call me Charlie. Everyone else does.” He forgets that she already knows his name and even spoke it to him just moments ago. But what has been said cannot be undone and so he turns his head to stare off at something - anything - else for a moment until he regathers his composure. He clears his throat and only spares her a glance when she asks her question.
“I.. I guess I feel… more confident, for one thing,” he confesses, a quick laugh tumbling from him. “I feel in control, when I’m not near you. I’m beginning to wonder which is the real me, though.”
And then he brings his gaze back to hers, his green eyes studying her curiously as he tries to pick apart why she makes him feel so different. He’s been around women before, certainly, and he supposes they could be called lovely in their own regard. But somehow she is entirely unique in her effect on him. Eucharist finds that he is unable to pick out a single thing he does not enjoy about her - the perfect white of her, the soft look of her eyes, the soft feathers of her beautiful wings. It all works in perfect harmony to destroy his defenses.
“Do you have some kind of magic that makes me feel this way?” he asks finally, now scrambling for answers.