05-03-2021, 08:57 PM
The light that meets the dark
“Oh,” she really shouldn’t have touched him. It was as stupid and silly a thing as she could’ve ever done. The shock (not just in magical terms) that he felt was reflected, mirror-like, in the glassy light of Cheri’s green eyes. She’d thought … but then again no, what had she been thinking? That they could share their talents like she was used to back home? That she could prove to him her harmlessness, expose a bit of what she was capable of so that he would understand their differences and do … what, exactly?
A collected calm washed over Cheri despite the sudden tsunami of rage he threatened to overwhelm her with. The mare went mute, totally. Her subconscious took control and she cleaved her mind from the reality of what she fully expected he would do: maim her, hurt her, grab her again and shake her bloody senseless. Those green eyes of hers that’d been so expressive only seconds before went blank, staring far beyond his curled mouth and out into the distant waves of peaceful flower blossoms. She sent her spirit there. The body left behind need only feel the pain, not allow him the victory of seeing how it truly affected her.
Cheri was only faintly aware of what he was saying. His teeth were clacking together, forming words that she automatically, yet silently, gave him answers to. “It’s just my nature.” She thought, blinking once. “Where I come from, magic is shared and celebrated.”
Where she came from, no horse would’ve threatened her like he did. No horse really compared to him, now that her thoughts circled back to The Black and the presence he left over her like a blistering, heavy thundercloud. She feared saying as much would only irritate the matter further and so she kept entirely still underneath him - a smaller mare compared to his impressive bulk. The things he could do to her … Cheri shivered, breaking the spell. He could do things to her, strange things, but every single time they got to this point (and these instances are rare, thank the stars) he never actually did.
Confused, Cheri opened her mouth wordlessly and watched him turn away. Where was the dagger behind the veil, she wondered? Where was this “promised pain”? Twice now he’d had his chance, twice now he’d physically declined. She did recall the way he’d grabbed her in the meadow and pulled her upright like a wilting sapling, and again the hair along her spine quivered and rose unexpectedly. That itself hadn’t been entirely unexpected, neither was it horrible. She’d had to admit to herself later on that he’d actually helped her from collapsing altogether - if that was really his intention in the first place.
“You don’t use magic, do you?” The gears in her head turned slowly at first. Out to sea, blustery gales picked up and whipped through the meadows, causing her bright locks to twist into a fury of tangled, sparkling strands like viridian tinsel. Cheri felt her pulse quicken again; before she could stop herself, the words came spilling out. “I’d like to see your so-called ‘other talents’ now.”
And there it was, precisely as he’d wanted it: enmity in her gaze, just for him. “I should’ve guessed.” She realized. “Should’ve known by how utterly plain and boorish he looks.” Her thoughts were scathing, even if she contradicted them a split-second later by lusting after the way he commanded the very air around himself, making it hard to breath or react in the moment. “I was so blinded by my jealousy for his affection that I never saw - until now - that in truth he might’ve been the jealous one.” Cheri’s jaw clenched. For over a month now she’d let this creature burrow under his skin and topple her self-worth. He laughed at her in the reflection of the meadow pool she so loved to visit back home, had tormented her and still she’d been caught up in her desire for him rather than common sense. She’d wanted him to admire her, wanted to prove him wrong this time around and make him tremble the way he made her weak in the knees, but not anymore.
Now she knew exactly what she wanted, and admittedly it scared her, but she willed it all the same: that he would turn on her with some of that same unbridled fury from before. For once their motives were in sync, a feeling of chaos turning her passion into fury, but this time Cheri was nearly as deadly in her expression as The Black. “Go on.” Her slender mouth tugged itself into a brazen smirk. He’d taught her that. “Prove me wrong, pretty boy.”
A collected calm washed over Cheri despite the sudden tsunami of rage he threatened to overwhelm her with. The mare went mute, totally. Her subconscious took control and she cleaved her mind from the reality of what she fully expected he would do: maim her, hurt her, grab her again and shake her bloody senseless. Those green eyes of hers that’d been so expressive only seconds before went blank, staring far beyond his curled mouth and out into the distant waves of peaceful flower blossoms. She sent her spirit there. The body left behind need only feel the pain, not allow him the victory of seeing how it truly affected her.
Cheri was only faintly aware of what he was saying. His teeth were clacking together, forming words that she automatically, yet silently, gave him answers to. “It’s just my nature.” She thought, blinking once. “Where I come from, magic is shared and celebrated.”
Where she came from, no horse would’ve threatened her like he did. No horse really compared to him, now that her thoughts circled back to The Black and the presence he left over her like a blistering, heavy thundercloud. She feared saying as much would only irritate the matter further and so she kept entirely still underneath him - a smaller mare compared to his impressive bulk. The things he could do to her … Cheri shivered, breaking the spell. He could do things to her, strange things, but every single time they got to this point (and these instances are rare, thank the stars) he never actually did.
Confused, Cheri opened her mouth wordlessly and watched him turn away. Where was the dagger behind the veil, she wondered? Where was this “promised pain”? Twice now he’d had his chance, twice now he’d physically declined. She did recall the way he’d grabbed her in the meadow and pulled her upright like a wilting sapling, and again the hair along her spine quivered and rose unexpectedly. That itself hadn’t been entirely unexpected, neither was it horrible. She’d had to admit to herself later on that he’d actually helped her from collapsing altogether - if that was really his intention in the first place.
“You don’t use magic, do you?” The gears in her head turned slowly at first. Out to sea, blustery gales picked up and whipped through the meadows, causing her bright locks to twist into a fury of tangled, sparkling strands like viridian tinsel. Cheri felt her pulse quicken again; before she could stop herself, the words came spilling out. “I’d like to see your so-called ‘other talents’ now.”
And there it was, precisely as he’d wanted it: enmity in her gaze, just for him. “I should’ve guessed.” She realized. “Should’ve known by how utterly plain and boorish he looks.” Her thoughts were scathing, even if she contradicted them a split-second later by lusting after the way he commanded the very air around himself, making it hard to breath or react in the moment. “I was so blinded by my jealousy for his affection that I never saw - until now - that in truth he might’ve been the jealous one.” Cheri’s jaw clenched. For over a month now she’d let this creature burrow under his skin and topple her self-worth. He laughed at her in the reflection of the meadow pool she so loved to visit back home, had tormented her and still she’d been caught up in her desire for him rather than common sense. She’d wanted him to admire her, wanted to prove him wrong this time around and make him tremble the way he made her weak in the knees, but not anymore.
Now she knew exactly what she wanted, and admittedly it scared her, but she willed it all the same: that he would turn on her with some of that same unbridled fury from before. For once their motives were in sync, a feeling of chaos turning her passion into fury, but this time Cheri was nearly as deadly in her expression as The Black. “Go on.” Her slender mouth tugged itself into a brazen smirk. He’d taught her that. “Prove me wrong, pretty boy.”
@[Obscene]