It was intolerable. The intensity of her eyes. The intensity that is her. The fact that she's melted my cold facade to get me. My silver eyes fixed on her face, subtly noting the shadows that ran across her cheeks from her extravagant lashes. The way her forelock was illuminated by the little light from the moon and stars and and the light reflected off of our ivory surrounding, put my own tassels to shame. She is slight, tiny, miniature, dwarfed, but big in her own way. In the same way how Earth is gargantuan, but then you compare it to everything else in the galaxy and it suddenly seems so small and inconspicuous. She is that, but opposite. Comparing her to everyone around her makes her seem huge, bigger than Rexanna, bigger than Rei, Elsa, Hearth, everyone, not smaller in any way. She's beautiful, an intangible thing that makes me want her, want to have her, keep her, love, cherish, adore her. If we were human, I'd ask her to marry me and raise my children, keep her safe and love. Maybe she would cry while watching the channel four news because they told another story of someone dying and that got to her because she is innocent and loving and the death of a stranger has just as much impact as a loved one, because she cares, because the brief story of a murder-suicide tugs at her, and I have a burning desire to shield her from horrible things, to tell her it's okay, even if it's not, because I don't want her to cry, to feel pain, to know the horrors of the world. I want her to be happy.  Yet, I can't stop her from feeling pain, no mater how much I wish I could. This deep urge to protect and care and hold and protect more, it's primal and instinctual, and it feels right, feels like I need to give her this. Can I love her? Do I love her? Can I love? Do I love? I don't love Henrietta. I don't love Helovia. I don't love many things. I don't love anything, but En-- No, I can't say it, wont. I don't love. I hate and I fuck and I ditch and I do other stuff. I don't love.

I want to take her away. Take her somewhere secluded and talk. Learn what she loves and hates. I want to take her to a field of her favorite flowers and gallop through it with her. I want to fly with her, show her the power of the sky and teach her what I am, and what I like. I want to watch the corners of her mouth crinkle as she smiles, and I want to see tears brim her eyes after laughing so hard. I want to see the reaction I can cause in her, to know she feels equally to me as I do her.

Her eyes are beautiful, and behind these eyes are uncharted territories where secrets as dark and mysterious as the Black Sea may be. This is one of my reservations about her. Faith is when you close your eyes and follow, but I've never been a follower. I've never been anything, certainly not a follower. I've never led, loved, lost. I don't feel those things and I never had. I don't feel anything. I'm numb. So numb it hurts, throbs, like an aching wound. Would she be a dream, then a reality, then a memory? Rexanna had gone through that circle. She'd been a fuck, but then she wanted me to stay. I told her I would stay. I would stay. I won't stay, not for a whore, not for Enna. I never stay. It's not in my will to stay. I am a creature of nomadic tendencies.

"Why shouldn't you stay?" The validity of the question was solid, she'd been given no reason to leave, and even if she hated the magnetic energy between them, she shouldn't leave. Why? I am not sure, maybe it's because I don't want her to. Maybe I do want her to, so I don't have to feel this, feel anything. She claims she doesn't know me, but it feels like we've known each other centuries. It feels as if it was written in the stars, and if it wasn't written there, I'll certainly fly up there myself and write it in there with my own hooves. "Even if it's not right, I want it to be."