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07-06-2014, 04:01 PM
"Who Sohalia?" he asked, and it felt very much like a kick in the gut. She felt the sharp intake of breath as her ears began to ring and her head began to spin, though she wasn't sure if her sudden nausea came from her anger or her disgust. If it was his fault or hers - and, all along, wasn't it always her? Wasn't she the common denominator in all of her failures? Why would she - how would she keep losing the ones she loved, over and over again, if it wasn't her doing something wrong? She could feel Astraeus's fury as he hissed angrily, sensed his sparks cascading over her shoulders and onto the ground, but it was distant, as though she were merely watching herself, as though she were only in some terrible nightmare. She didn't bother to silence her companion. She just couldn't care anymore. "You used to call me Soh," she murmured sadly, her neck curling inward of its own accord as a single tear traced a line down her cheek. Her chin bumped against the crystalline rose that hung on a silver chain and, possessed with a sudden hatred, she grasped it and yanked, flinging the trinket with its now-broken chain at his feet. She wanted to run, to fly, to just get away from him, but something about the sad little rose lying in the dirt filled her with regret and longing and something else that she couldn't quite name. "Just Soh." She forced a laugh, a mirthless little bark that was somehow worse than tears. You don't even know me anymore. And despite his denial that she meant so little to him, a gesture that she appreciated but hated all the same because it was a lie, and she was so sick of being lied to - despite the fact that he still stood before her in all of his masculine glory and his brutish confusion and he was trying, always trying for her - despite all of it, and all of their history, and all of her wants and her needs and her desires, she couldn't help but wish, just for one moment, that she could just forgive him and forget this and just be with him, just for a moment. And so she did. Her movement was sudden, catching even her off guard as she lurched forward to try and bury her face against his chest. She breathed him in, his unique blend of sweat and nature and Gaucho, swallowed her anger and her misery and her pain, and, for the briefest of moments, she tried to let herself feel the joy of his embrace - assuming, of course, that he did not rebuff her advance. "I loved you, you know," she whispered. "Maybe I still do." "Talk talk talk." @[Gaucho] |
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