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en natt så kall och månen den var klar
[ 800th, yay. <3 ]
He hadn't meant to stop. He'd meant to disappear, like the blizzard moved onwards by the blowing storm, leave her with all her shattered dreams—leave her for her own good, so he would stop dragging her heart and life through the sharp-fanged jaws of his impulsive nature. So that she could let go of him, and let him disappear, a shadow in the sunset, and better left that way; memory, smoke, and scars. He'd meant to let his eyes freeze over again, to let hell freeze over, and move away.
"You fucking asshole... I wish I had stayed in Dixtrod."
No surprises there. His black-rimmed ears lay flat against his neck already, as if he could somehow shut her words out, but there was no way he could not hear. And no way that he could not listen. "You're pathetic. I shouldn't have started talking to you by the river because this... You hurt me for fun and I kind of liked it." She– what? He refused to turn back, stood staring into the distance, jaw set and eyes dark. She was out of her mind. She had to be. There was no other way she could be saying what she was.. but was he surprised? Hadn't they'd been dancing along the edge of madness for a while now? She'd told him, and he shouldn't be surprised. "Why did you choose me to mess with? You could've chosen anyone - why me?" His cruel admission had smashed through her defenses at last, and he closed his eyes, grateful that his head was turned away. He didn't count on her to remain this way, sorrow coloring her broken voice. Sighed, almost silently. "Coincidence," he said quietly, loud enough for her to barely hear. "You were on the meadow. We were on the meadow. And then, it just.. happened."
The sun's rays were long, clinging to the last of the day's warmth as they stretched between the sparse trees, painting his shadow larger than life—and his soul felt like that, vast and black and heavy. "I wasn't used to having a family that I loved... that loved me back." She fell, and he gazed up for a moment. How much could one being hold in? How much emotion could one feel, without shattering from the pressure? How much damn conflict can you be part of, be, without going mad? Without slipping into the eternal darkness? He swallowed. Looked back again, the same feverish intensity burning in his glistening eyes.
His voice had grown hoarse.
He'd reached his limit.
His head whipped back into the direction that pointed away, into the dying sun, and he picked up his feet in a fleet-footed trot—a ghost disappearing back into the veils of memory, and time.
He hadn't meant to stop. He'd meant to disappear, like the blizzard moved onwards by the blowing storm, leave her with all her shattered dreams—leave her for her own good, so he would stop dragging her heart and life through the sharp-fanged jaws of his impulsive nature. So that she could let go of him, and let him disappear, a shadow in the sunset, and better left that way; memory, smoke, and scars. He'd meant to let his eyes freeze over again, to let hell freeze over, and move away.
"You fucking asshole... I wish I had stayed in Dixtrod."
No surprises there. His black-rimmed ears lay flat against his neck already, as if he could somehow shut her words out, but there was no way he could not hear. And no way that he could not listen. "You're pathetic. I shouldn't have started talking to you by the river because this... You hurt me for fun and I kind of liked it." She– what? He refused to turn back, stood staring into the distance, jaw set and eyes dark. She was out of her mind. She had to be. There was no other way she could be saying what she was.. but was he surprised? Hadn't they'd been dancing along the edge of madness for a while now? She'd told him, and he shouldn't be surprised. "Why did you choose me to mess with? You could've chosen anyone - why me?" His cruel admission had smashed through her defenses at last, and he closed his eyes, grateful that his head was turned away. He didn't count on her to remain this way, sorrow coloring her broken voice. Sighed, almost silently. "Coincidence," he said quietly, loud enough for her to barely hear. "You were on the meadow. We were on the meadow. And then, it just.. happened."
The sun's rays were long, clinging to the last of the day's warmth as they stretched between the sparse trees, painting his shadow larger than life—and his soul felt like that, vast and black and heavy. "I wasn't used to having a family that I loved... that loved me back." She fell, and he gazed up for a moment. How much could one being hold in? How much emotion could one feel, without shattering from the pressure? How much damn conflict can you be part of, be, without going mad? Without slipping into the eternal darkness? He swallowed. Looked back again, the same feverish intensity burning in his glistening eyes.
His voice had grown hoarse.
"Learn from it. And for fuck's sake—hold on to them."
He'd reached his limit.
His head whipped back into the direction that pointed away, into the dying sun, and he picked up his feet in a fleet-footed trot—a ghost disappearing back into the veils of memory, and time.
Se dem brinna över verkan se dem dansa framför bål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
