jamie
02-20-2021, 03:12 PM
Jamie
He knows now that he belongs to Death.
He belongs to Darkness.
He belongs to the things that writhe in the shadows.
But he knows, too, that there will always be some part of him that belongs to her.
Because he had asked her what she’d call him and she’d said Mine.
Or, at least, that’s how he remembers it. And he had believed it then and perhaps there is some small part of him that wants to continue to believe it now.
She touches him and he can feel the heat of her breath and it calls to mind how it had made him ache to have her so close and not be able to feel her. And now he turns his head and he presses his own lips to the plains of her forehead, kisses her as sweetly as a shadow thing knows how.
He belongs to Death the same way she belongs to the sea.
But perhaps there is some small part of him that wants to believe that she belongs to him, too.
“I want to show you something,” he murmurs, drawing away from her then.
He wedges a few paces’ worth of space between them and studies her a beat before he closes those freakish eyes again. He relaxes, releasing his grip on the magic he keeps pulled tight around him, the magic that keeps him draped in shadows. The darkness bleeds away to reveal the equine beneath, a plain gray thing just like his parents, like his sister. He emits a soft glow, simply so that she can see him through the darkness, and meets her gaze with plain brown eyes.
No one else has ever seen him this way.
“This,” he mutters, taking a step toward her to bump her shoulder with that plain dark gray mouth, “this belongs to you.” He exhales a rattling breath and pulls the darkness around himself again.
He belongs to Darkness.
He belongs to the things that writhe in the shadows.
But he knows, too, that there will always be some part of him that belongs to her.
Because he had asked her what she’d call him and she’d said Mine.
Or, at least, that’s how he remembers it. And he had believed it then and perhaps there is some small part of him that wants to continue to believe it now.
She touches him and he can feel the heat of her breath and it calls to mind how it had made him ache to have her so close and not be able to feel her. And now he turns his head and he presses his own lips to the plains of her forehead, kisses her as sweetly as a shadow thing knows how.
He belongs to Death the same way she belongs to the sea.
But perhaps there is some small part of him that wants to believe that she belongs to him, too.
“I want to show you something,” he murmurs, drawing away from her then.
He wedges a few paces’ worth of space between them and studies her a beat before he closes those freakish eyes again. He relaxes, releasing his grip on the magic he keeps pulled tight around him, the magic that keeps him draped in shadows. The darkness bleeds away to reveal the equine beneath, a plain gray thing just like his parents, like his sister. He emits a soft glow, simply so that she can see him through the darkness, and meets her gaze with plain brown eyes.
No one else has ever seen him this way.
“This,” he mutters, taking a step toward her to bump her shoulder with that plain dark gray mouth, “this belongs to you.” He exhales a rattling breath and pulls the darkness around himself again.
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[evia]