paralyzing comfort
10-14-2013, 02:18 PM
The man could not recount an instance where it was physically painful to keep laughter at bay. Typically he was unconcerned with the nuances of conversation and the etiquette required in the hopes of remaining on amiable terms with whatever company he happened to encounter however the circumstances now were vastly different from conversing with those of able body and sound mind. The little slip of a girl was tormented, that much was obvious in how she quaked in his shadow and utter refusal to meet his gaze. If her battered form was any further indication to her prior treatment than the fact that she appeared incapable of relaxing was just another strike of evidence to the harshness she had endured. And Nibelheim found it positively hilarious that the broken female had managed to preserve to this day in spite of that. He watched her with quiet fascination. Really there was enough entertainment to be had in only observing the rapid twitching of her body as the internal debate raged inside of her. One could almost see the war being waged within the confines of her mind, daring to align trust to a stranger when all she knew was agony at the hands of another. But he was banking on her naivet?, on her overt submission, to coax her to his side. Or at the very least assume him to be a potential ally to confide in. It was the slightest of movements on her part, barely more than one of her recurrent twitches that regained his attention. Her lips, which had remained steadfastly sealed throughout, parted and the voice that alighted from them was harsh from disuse. How long had it been since she had uttered anything besides pleas for mercy? How long since she had sang tunes that were not saturated in pain, sorrow and apology? Would he ever get to hear that voice? The one where her screams would reverberate in her chest until there was no air left to feed the noise? A shiver traveled the length of his spine as desire roared hotly in his belly. He?d hear that voice one day. Perhaps not by his own doing personally but he would. ?You are welcome.? He spoke, ignoring the fact that as she lay down she too had lowered herself, remaining ever the smaller counterpart in his presence. It drew a smirk from him, one of appreciation and egocentric glee. Outside of that Nibelheim made no further movements, satisfied to be a quiet sentinel while she ate ? assuming she mustered the courage to do so. She was frustrating in that respect. While the young woman was obviously in great need of the nourishment she would only hesitantly pick at the offering. Nibelheim was not particularly one who enjoyed hand-holding her through the motions but set aside his distaste for a more productive sentiment. He gave her a nod of approval, facial contours remained in its patient creases. ?I will not snap at you. I feed you.? Speech, |
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