Shelter For My Soul

His closed eyes didn?t block him from the sound of her pain. It was as though he had physically striked her. His words had been peaceful, asking her to find herself, promising her something to come back to. Her response was a punch in the gut, the sounds of her pain like one in torment or the throes of a nightmare. He didn?t understand her, he could not? He was lost to this and all he knew now was that she was lost even from herself. He had thought that if she had understood how badly she needed to find herself that this could be ok, but her response was far too brutal to see reason.





He couldn?t let go yet, he couldn?t give up on her especially feeling as though he was the one who had done the breaking. Oh how this was such a far cry from the girl she had been. A piece of his heart already longed for her, for what seemed now to be lost. Here sass and strength had stolen him, it everything he sought for in a girl? but this, he did not know how to handle. She broke apart before him as through the shell she had held herself in had been made of nothing thicker than an egg shell.





He struggled to find words, to bring her to understanding. ?Yes Othello.. Find yourself. I can promise you that you are loved, I promise you this with all my heart in fact. But your allowing no room in your heart for that, not if you can?t love yourself as well. You are more then what has happened to you Othello, prove that, and understand yourself?





He folded in on himself, this was a nightmare. Surely she could see that he did not have the power to save herself, he would not even know where to begin. She was special, and amazing, and beautiful and he knew there was a spark of that sass within her. If she could just see it for herself and understand the amazing person she was she could rise about this, and be someone everyone could love? because that was already what he had seen inside of her.





Oh god. He wanted to run from this, from this mess he had caused. He wasn?t a man of wisdom, he wasn?t someone special, or amazing, or a saviour. He could easily spin a good joke, he could easily spring his own personality on any situation and bring out his sass? except for a case like this. There was no jokes in this, no flirtatious, no solid ground for him to stand upon.





She would begin to beg, to grovel, and he would shrivel up that little more. Whatever she was seeing in him, whatever she was expecting him to do... surely she could see he was not the amazing being she seemed to think of him. He was made up of anger, and bloodlust. Of his special mix of flirtation and sass, he wasn?t...





She wound herself around his paws as through he could save her, ground her, make her whole again. Hell. He couldn?t even ground himself, he could not beat the beast inside of him. He would lower his head and let out his breath like it would be the last he had ever let. Let it out in a big gust before him, as through with it went his life. This wasn?t his strength, not by a long shot. ?Your worth my time, I know the good in you Othello? but this? I don?t know how to handle. I don?t know how Othello. I need you to understand, listen to my words, all [/]I of them, not the ones you pick and choose. I don?t know [i] how to put the pieces back together again. All I can do is hold you and hope you can find it yourself. Hell. My sister was raped! And all I could do was want the blood of her killer. I could not make her whole again. My own sister! I can?t handle this Othello. You are beautiful and sexy and amazing.. but maybe.. maybe you need someone who can find you. Since all I know is that you should find yourself? he shook his head, groaning and feeling as though he himself was in the throes of a nightmare.