[private] one of them is how bad i need you; Haunt

[Misfit]

 

i got issues, you got ‘em too
so give ‘em all to me, and i’ll give mine to you
i got issues, and one of 'em is how bad i need you

The time that had passed had been enough for Misfit to fill out into lean strength, he was built to be fleet and tall, his bone structure giving him a delicate but powerful appearance.

It had been long enough that anyone who might be bothered to, might have wondered if he were dead.

It had been time enough to push him into madness, and he wonders if it has. He wonders as Haunt darkly suggests that it is he who has changed. Misfit turns his ears back resentfully. Resentful of his own weakness, of uncountable time wasted in the strange trap from which he has just been liberated. He doesn't withdraw, knowing that the shadow creature could twist themselves around him again in a heartbeat. Nor does he want to separate himself, even as a foreign anger tightens in his chest.

“If I am different now what will you do? I’ve spent a thousand nights alone in this cursed wood and you ask if I’ve changed.” Misfit’s gentle timbre lowers to a growl. His pupils contract in spite of the twilight and the heady desire that effortlessly bloomed with their proximity. Has the sweet boy of their youth been consumed by this savage, lonely exile? His teeth are blunt, his flesh is mortal, but he is strong, foolhardy and furious. He presses into Haunt, baring his teeth. “Yes. I am changed.” Yet it is not in the way Haunt suggests, the heat rolling off of Misfit’s frame speaks of longing tangled into the fury. He could say something, express this truth, but his jaw is clenched against the words.

MISFIT

@Haunt