Eating fire
08-28-2013, 08:02 AM
His eyes were wide and his gaze alarmingly unwavering, even in the darkness of night. Purple gaze was set on her, examining her as though she were something he had never seen before. So familiar, so alluring ... he wanted no more than to wrap himself around her like he never had before, to lose himself in her warmth and her smell. And yet he was still as a statue for a long moment as he watched, and waited. Slowly she turned to meet his gaze, and the faintest flicker of a smile would appear, before it was washed away again. He had met nobody who understood his rage, his desires -- and yet even he wasn't sure what he needed. Cross had come close, earning his respect after their practice spar, and yet he wanted more. Slowly he took a few steps closer, poised as though to flee if she dared strike him. Who knew how she had changed? He had fled the battlefield that day, torn with rage and grief -- he had only seen her briefly at the meeting. He had abandoned her just as she had him. A mutual betrayal; it was almost like neither of them had done anything wrong at all. "I have needed you," he admitted simply, gruffly, voice unsure and yet still lacking emotion. If anyone understood, perhaps it would be her. Perhaps... Ears flicked as she spoke, taking in her words. Absently he drank in her scent, its familiarity intoxicating and strangely sobering. It had been so long he had felt the touch of family, the warm embrace of his mother and siblings... he had hoped his thirst would be quenched by the taste of blood, by the searing pain of another's fangs tearing his flesh, and yet he was oddly disappointed. He knew what he needed, but it was still so far from reach... it seemed an endless journey to find solace, a struggle each and every day. "She failed us," he said breathlessly, moving closer to her, needing to feel her -- to know she was real. Not just a figment of his imagination or a vivid dream. Or was it a nightmare? "She promised us safety... protection. A home. She failed everyone, but us especially. Tell me, Syn, do you think she is capable of change? Or will she fall back into her old ways? Can we trust her again?" A sigh left his lips and boldly he pressed his nose to her neck, perhaps the most affection he had ever displayed toward any creature save his mother. He was not quite as poetic as she, and yet the broken boy understood her words, knew she was just as lost as he was. |