Lips Of An Angel

N/A · 07-17-2013, 12:30 PM

He made no motion to move or acknowledge the fact that the little nymph beside him was awake, despite not rising to greet the new morning. As he stared out into the new morning, Demyan found it hard to believe that he had been able to do everything he'd done yesterday. He still couldn't wrap his mind around it. What had possessed him do such a thing? He wasn't capable of caring for another living creature. He barely even cared for his sister, and that was only because she was the only family he had left and he'd been with her since day one. But Orica...She was just another wolf; a pack wolf. Though there was no glaring scent that pointed her out as a pack wolf, he could just tell from looking at her and watching her mannerisms. No rogue would be surprised that he taken a liking to killing; most rogues came across other wolves like that. But it made sense that she was a pack wolf; most lived in their sheltered little bubbles and didn't know a lot of what the real world was made of. And despite that, she come to his aid, to help him even if it meant risking her own life...She was either really brave, or really stupid or maybe even both. But him...he was...what the fuck was he? A murderer? A bastard? An abomination to all of his kin? The devil incarnate? He was no good...He didn't deserve Orica's help or anyone's help. She should've left him to die, it was what he deserved after all the wrong he'd done in his life. No one cared about him. His sister barely did. He should've died...

And then a yawn from beside him broke him from his thoughts, cyan gaze flickering to Orica's marbled face, meeting her own blues with his own as she offered him a good morning. He spent a good moment just staring at her, trying to memorize every single detail about her before he allowed his gaze to dance away, to fall back onto the little stream not to far from where they were laying. She should've left already. She had every opportunity to. He wouldn't be able to hurt her, even if suddenly his murderous streak came back, his body was to fucked up at the moment for him to any real damage, unless she presented herself to him, which was highly unlikely. No self respecting wolf would present themselves to another predator, unless they were looking to fulfill a death wish. He offered the little medic no words of a returned greeting. What could he say to her now? He didn't need her anymore; she sure as hell didn't need him. So why was she still here? Demyan. I should go home soon... Of course she needed to go home. She had others who cared about her, who were worried about whether she lived or died. She needed to get away from him, away from the monster that she'd healed. She needed to get back to her own little world and forget that she'd ever met him.

He could hear the reluctance in her voice, but it had to be because she didn't want to get up yet right? It couldn't be because she was hesitant to leave him. No, it had nothing to do with him. He was nothing to her and she was nothing to him. They were too strangers who were most likely never going to see each other again. Go home. Go back to whatever family you have. Forget you ever met me. Forget what happened yesterday. Go back to your life... He trailed off, his voice barely above a low rumble, grey lids falling over his cyan eyes, closing them off from the world. She needed to go. Now. He couldn't stand having her around anymore...He...just couldn't...

Talk like this

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