Shelter For My Soul

His sign matched her own, one that carried more pleasure than pain. She couldn't help but smile at him, he made her heart flutter like no one had. He was a new experience for her, many beginnings were started with him beside her and she wanted it no other way. Crucifix occupied most of her mind, so it didn't surprise her. He was an open door for her, freeing her from the cage that she had kept herself locked in for so long. He fixed her broken wings and allowed her to fly, giving her a freedom that before she had only dreamed of. He had saved her from herself, and there was no way that she could ever repay the favor. Othello's smile broadened as she thought about that, there was no way that he would ever understand the impact he had on her life. Did he know even a little? Did he know that he held the key to her very existence for the wolf she now was? Before him she thought that she was damaged beyond repair, that no one could love her crumbled soul. But now she was learning how to love herself, how to accept that her raging emotions were a part of her that made her who she was. Crucifix was teaching her how to bloom, and was the rain that fed her very being.

He froze below her so suddenly, like a cold wind had solidified his wet body. Othello searched his eyes, her own flickering between the two glowing orbs. Had trying been too much to ask of him? She felt an outer shell grow around her once open emotions, encasing her in a thin veil of mystery. She would not react yet, would not let herself fall victim to her emotions. She would not be a slave to her fear of rejection. She could tell that Crucifix had more to say, so she bit her pink tongue, daring it to slither from her maw. The sharp pain of her canines on the sensitive muscle helped her focus, as did her blockade. She would let him speak his mind, explain his reasons to turn her down. Were those emotions she saw in his eyes before just lies to keep her happy? Was he creating feelings just for her? Othello mentally shook those thoughts away, casting them aside like the unwanted garbage they were. She trusted him, and knew that he would never do such a thing. It wasn't personal, it was his own decision. She couldn't force his hand, nor would she. This feeling called love was complex enough without her trying to shove it down his throat. His speech was so hesitant, but she could feel the rest of his words lingering in the air between them. Othello didn't wish to pull herself back from him, but she needed to breath. She would wait, because she had his gaze captured in her own, urging him to speak.

His sweet words were not completely lost on her, her creamy audits straining forward to bask in their sound. She longed for words, but the infamous 'but' still roamed along the tip of his tongue. She could feel just how much power that single three letter word had, and it haunted her. The unsaid words were worse than those out in the open. So when he seemed to fight for the right words, her once fully perked ears pressed flat against her skull. Her eyes were devoid of emotions, blank slated waiting to be filled. Her walls held strong, her veil still entrapping her soul within it. And then it came, the words flowing as soon as he let them. He fought for the right structure of sentences to explain what lay beneath that skin of his. Conflicting emotions. Family. Responsibility. There was no room for her in his life. He wanted her, but not enough to fit her in. A ragged breath slipped past her barricade, ruffling his short face hairs at its exhale. She felt like she couldn't breath, like she was being shoved back within that cage of hers. She fought it, hard. Those iron bars would no longer trap her spirit, she was a free bird. Cru made her that way, and she would not give up the fight.

Othello steeled herself, trying to be a brave girl. Anger was not the forefront feeling, instead it was shame. She should have withheld her words, but they had fought their way out. She had no control of them, and could not ask them to return. They were in the universe now, said and gone. She could run and try to track them until the day that she died, and they would still be ghosts to her. She shook her head to answer his question, unable to push any words out. Her maw gaped open, but simply stayed that way. Only a small squeak resonated, hardly loud enough to even call it a sound. She needed space. Breath. But she couldn't, not pressed up so intimately with the one she cared for. Othello couldn't get the proper fresh air she needed, because every breath she took in here carried his scent, choking her with its heady scent. So once again she broke their embrace, raising so quickly that the pressure of the little water on her broke, shattering like broken shards of glass. She trotted away from Crucifix and onto the sand, not even shaking her coat to rid of the cold liquid. Her elongated tail that was usually so full of life hung behind her, damp curls clinging to her legs. It dragged along the sand, pulling grains along with it. A piece of the beach was now a piece of her.

The dame felt weak, her knees shook and threatened to buckle. She held herself up by strand of hope, a small flame that refused to be put out. That very fire had been lit by Crucifix, and it was something that would never go out. He was a ray of sunshine within her darkness, whether or not he wanted to be with her. This was not something that anyone could take away from her, it was there for keeps. She was lost, dark tunnels stretching out in her mental map. No matter what she decided to do, the answer was wrapped in a dark cloak, not even her small flame able to light it. With no one to guide her, where would she go from this endless darkness? She felt like she had wasted her heart on a wild thing, something she could not tame. Crucifix was not one to be tied down, and that is what she was. Two wild creatures did not match, did not bind. Neither were sturdy, so how could they rely on each other? Wasted feelings. But not wasted time. She would never wish to return her time spent with him, both the good and the bad. He had shaped her into a better creature, and she wasn't sure if he was aware of it or not.

At last the female turned, her black tainted face a blank canvas. Nothing was showing to paint her pretty features, but she finally broke the silence. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. Don't let me cut your freedom, I do not wish to tether you to a broken toy." Her voice seemed to be without emotion, unless one was listening closely. Hurt. Pain. Fear. And most of all, love. She loved him enough to let him go. Othello fully admitted it to herself, she loved Crucifix. Maybe if she was patient, he would one day grow to be fond of her as well. Right now though, she let out a heavy sigh. "You've got your life, and I've got mine. You're all I care about. You're all I have, and I will not give up the fight. I will not let you say goodbye, for my heart would not survive. Don't say anything if you're going to say goodbye." Her body betrayed her, the thin misty veil burning away. She just stood there, a question burning in her mind. Would he walk away, or would he stay with her today?

Othello's face crumbled up, a wild mix of emotions threatening to break the dam. She held it in, taking a shaky breath. She looked away from the silver and black male, her eyes watching the ebb and flow of the tide. Oh how well that represented their relationship, just as many high tides as their were low. But it was constant, steady, and always there. Even on the calmest of days the water rushed up to greet the sand, always taking parts of it back into the ocean. But would he take a part of her with him always like she did? Would she haunt his mind like he did to her own? Turning her head back to him, she settled her damp eyes on him once more, a broken smile looking so heart wrenching on her face. She needed to be strong, for if she broke he would surly run. "I long to be by your side, but I will wait. i will always wait for you."