09-19-2021, 05:19 PM
jamie
I CAN’T EXACTLY DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
She is haughty in a way that her mother is not and he thinks she must get this from her father, the kelpie. He grins his shark-tooth smile and tilts his peculiar head, raking the gaze along the plains and angles of her. Down across the shoulder, the soft round of her barrel. Further still until he has seen all he can and shifts his focus back to her face.
It is not lost on him that the voice is hoarse and he cannot imagine that it is from anything other than disuse. Because she is too lovely a thing to sound this way naturally.
He could show her, he thinks. He could show her every memory he has of her mother, but he keeps them locked up somewhere safe instead.
(He has never been a flirtatious thing, Jamie. He has never known how to be. There is nothing about him that is coy, but he had invited the dark mare to come closer just to see how hollow he was. And he feels some inclination to tell this mare who is so much like her mother something similar. He has changed in more ways than he realizes.)
“I think it depends on my mood,” he says finally. Because he has been betrayed once before and does not intend to let it happen a second time. He had shown Evia what he really was, plain beneath the shadows, and when the second collection of daughters had been born he’d shackled the nymphs to the water and left them there.
He does not look away from her then, though he thinks of her sisters for longer than he’d like to. Instead, he draws in a rattling breath and asks, “where have you been hiding?”
It is not lost on him that the voice is hoarse and he cannot imagine that it is from anything other than disuse. Because she is too lovely a thing to sound this way naturally.
He could show her, he thinks. He could show her every memory he has of her mother, but he keeps them locked up somewhere safe instead.
(He has never been a flirtatious thing, Jamie. He has never known how to be. There is nothing about him that is coy, but he had invited the dark mare to come closer just to see how hollow he was. And he feels some inclination to tell this mare who is so much like her mother something similar. He has changed in more ways than he realizes.)
“I think it depends on my mood,” he says finally. Because he has been betrayed once before and does not intend to let it happen a second time. He had shown Evia what he really was, plain beneath the shadows, and when the second collection of daughters had been born he’d shackled the nymphs to the water and left them there.
He does not look away from her then, though he thinks of her sisters for longer than he’d like to. Instead, he draws in a rattling breath and asks, “where have you been hiding?”
AND IT LEAVES ME COLD
@Tiasa