and let me crawl inside your veins. I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain.
Starsin and Lie have always been an explosive mix of fire and gasoline, both of them too sharp, too reactive to be anything but incendiary. They could have just as likely ended up as enemies as lovers, and maybe in some strange way they have always been both.
And perhaps that is what leaves her so on edge, because what are they if they are neither? How is she supposed to feel if she does not love him as she once had, but also does not hate him? She doesn’t know what to do with this tamed down version of the flame he had once been capable of sparking in her chest, and her natural instinct is to fan it into an inferno.
That isn’t what she wants, though, not truly. She wants what he wants—for them to simply just be okay.
“He gives me a long leash,” comes her wry retort, since they both knew that is not true. No one maintained any kind of control over her, and never had, but even more than that, Ophanim would never try. They had both been allowed the luxury of seeing just how much self-inflicted destruction their relationship could withstand, and thankfully they had come out of it stronger. The last thing he would ever do is try to dictate where she goes, or who she speaks with.
But that did not change the fact that she was still ever aware of her past transgressions, of her sins she would never be able to properly atone for. Not just against Ophie, but against Lie as well. When that familiar sadness reflects in his topaz eyes she finds herself biting her tongue, and her own face softens just slightly. “We can talk,” she finally relents, and while it sounds as though the words are forced from her mouth she is secretly glad. Glad that he had laid his armor down knowing full well she would have engaged in a fight if he had let her, because she has always been the type to fight just for the sake of fighting.
So she settles back, her constellation dapples glowing in the dark of the forest, and her sharp, dark blue eyes settled on his familiar face. “How are you?” She asks, the question purposely toned with an exaggerated formality, but there is a smile threatening to break through. She finally lets it, and she follows up in her normal voice, her stance noticeably relaxing. “No, really, how are you?” She hesitates, and though it is only for a few moments there is a clear sense of her debating something, as if there are words on the tip of her tongue she can’t quite bring herself to say. “I’ve missed you,” she finally admits, and then falls quiet.
starsin
it’s not like me to be so mean. you’re all I wanted.
( just let me hold you Like a hostage. )
@litotes
