a killer come to call, beyza

[Beyza]

It annoys Beyza now, to watch him shift his weight in obvious pain, knowing that she could alleviate it. She tries not to let this frustration show and hides it behind her continuing confusion. It makes no sense to her why anyone would choose pain, choose limits when they could be free and wild without them. She, who had bested death when she was very young, did not believe that limits existed at all. His explanation does not ease her confusion or the sense of rejection, her mind translating it to mean he does not want prolonged exposure to her. No matter that this help is there for him, that it would be easy for her to give - they just needed to be around each other now and then. His response is not really a terrible thing at all, but her common sense eludes her for a little while longer and conceals that his reaction is natural and filled with the sense she is lacking at the moment. He looks away but her gaze remains fixed on him, as though staring will help her solve the riddle of Jamie’s mind. His question has a bite to it and would feel like an accusation more if there was any other answer than the clipped syllable she responds with quickly, tossing it back. “No.” One of her too-few blinks clears her gaze before she continues. “Your mother did not teach me how to heal. Our lessons were more… destructive.” beyza

artwork by kharthian