Because Of You
08-03-2013, 02:10 PM
Cut me loose
My parachute won't let me fall Don't be afraid of a chance for a miracle
"You don't sound very proud of it," said the medic with quiet bluntness. She'd hoped for some insight from his answer, and with those sad, pained words, she found it. Though not in the way she'd expected. He said he was a monster and she believed him. She did. She'd seen now what those words meant with her own two eyes - and it had horrified her. But she'd also seen something else, hadn't she? "I think... I think there's a part of you that wants to be something more. A real monster would've kept going; Would've just ripped me and away. For a second I thought..." A stifled choke caught her words, and better judgement tucked them away. She'd thought he would attack her. She'd seen the look in his eyes as he'd gone after that poor male, stumbling and struggling in the snow - just trying to live. Demyan had had no thoughts of mercy, then. He would've killed him... and... and enjoyed doing so. Orica had run in there with the fearful knowledge that that could very well prove her feat too. So for a second, when she'd just leapt in and taken a stance over the wounded stranger, yes, she'd thought he'd just rip her apart too. And rather than make her angry like the thought should have, it had just made her sad. Orica's gaze had fallen down to their paws when she'd trailed off. She blinked at the cold stone ground. Yet even with her head tucked and voice soft, her next words were audible. "...But you didn't." Why didn't he? Well the only reason Orica could come up with was that he wasn't a monster through and through. Not yet anyway. Perhaps there was still some redeemable part of him. It had just needed to be found and dug up and dusted off. A long dormant ember that could be fanned into flame. Or was that just wishful thinking? Here there were no certain answers. No absolutes. Orica could only wait and try and somehow put her trust in a wolf who didn't seem to trust himself. It didn't sound easy, but never in her life had Orica had been the sort who would turn her back someone who needed help. Perhaps this was asking more of her than any other soul she'd ever healed, but that was alright. This was special. In her mind, Orica kept replaying those steps she'd taken forward, and the gentle lick she'd given to the self-proclaimed monster's cheek. Didn't all the fairytales say that a kiss could be magic? They could break spells and tame beasts and win hearts. Cross had once told her that she was silly for believing in that kind of stuff but perhaps... perhaps magic like that really did exist. It had certainly seemed like magic the way Demyan had fallen to the snow - the way everything had changed. She'd realized that, for some reason the male listened to her, even cared about her - in a way that he obviously felt for no others. He'd threatened to murder his own sister. He'd said that he'd killed healers. He'd nearly killed another today... and yet, when it came to Orica, he'd done nothing but try to protect her. The girl raised her head. "Demyan, will you- won't you let me help you?" She searched those eyes, almost frantically. She'd seen them burn with anger and danger and an unholy thirst for blood, but she'd also seen them dip away with guilt, muddle with confusion, and twist with pain. They'd tell her what she needed to know. "If you have any hope that you could change - that you learn to be something other than a monster then please, please say yes." |
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