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11-04-2015, 01:58 AM
Nature's great masterpiece : an elephant ; the only harmless great thing.
She started to melt into his embrace, and for a few mere moments it was all okay. It was fine. It was fixed.
But then she turned to stone: cold, hard, and unforgiving against his touch. She pulled away from him, leaving him bereft of her soft warmth. Achingly, he noticed her care of his claw marks— the motion sickly twisted his gut. He did not want to let her go, he wanted to hold her tighter, pin her to his body. But that would make him as selfish as the men of her past. Using her for their own pleasure, instead of looking out for her.
And then she was staring, painted with his ruby blood, purple face, and accusingly blue eyes. They looked straight through him. Her words are angry now, throwing the feelings that warmed her face and hardened her body. He took the blows, absorbing the anger. But the pain— the pain he cannot take.
Anger at himself flares within him while she questions him not knowing the sire of Nyx's foal. “No, I don’t know! She was not in heat when I took her. It did not mean enough for me to revisit her after—” his anger pulled the bitter, unfiltered words yet again from his lips, but he cuts them off as he realizes what he is saying. These were not the words his gilded princess wanted, or needed, to hear.
His ears pin flush with his head in shame and irritation. “You admitted it to me as I am to you, Rexanna. I was hurt— I thought you did not want me…” his rumbling voices grows quiet as he trails off, realizing that this is not important. It does not matter the why of what he did (despite her question). What matters is that he had done it. He could explain until his broken rib punctured his lungs, it would not make a difference. He had hurt her and had thoroughly broken what trust they had managed to grow since the Labyrinth. “Rex, I couldn’t look at her the way I look at you. Do you think what we have is so easily replaced?” his deep, hoarse voice is laced with hurt, now, “Surely you, of all beings, would understand my need to protect a child.”
“What even are we now?”
The question chills his heated blood instantly. It sends a thread of cold panic weaving through his barrel and chest, wrapping around his heart and mind with a sharp squeeze. He lowers his neck, hesitantly (pleadingly) stretching his head towards her, halting halfway. “We are what we have been,” he says lowly, “Two broken souls trying to find solace in each other…” he takes a deep breath, “But we’re only breaking each other further.”
A fish hawk keened, a lonely cry above the gentle surf.
But then she turned to stone: cold, hard, and unforgiving against his touch. She pulled away from him, leaving him bereft of her soft warmth. Achingly, he noticed her care of his claw marks— the motion sickly twisted his gut. He did not want to let her go, he wanted to hold her tighter, pin her to his body. But that would make him as selfish as the men of her past. Using her for their own pleasure, instead of looking out for her.
And then she was staring, painted with his ruby blood, purple face, and accusingly blue eyes. They looked straight through him. Her words are angry now, throwing the feelings that warmed her face and hardened her body. He took the blows, absorbing the anger. But the pain— the pain he cannot take.
Anger at himself flares within him while she questions him not knowing the sire of Nyx's foal. “No, I don’t know! She was not in heat when I took her. It did not mean enough for me to revisit her after—” his anger pulled the bitter, unfiltered words yet again from his lips, but he cuts them off as he realizes what he is saying. These were not the words his gilded princess wanted, or needed, to hear.
His ears pin flush with his head in shame and irritation. “You admitted it to me as I am to you, Rexanna. I was hurt— I thought you did not want me…” his rumbling voices grows quiet as he trails off, realizing that this is not important. It does not matter the why of what he did (despite her question). What matters is that he had done it. He could explain until his broken rib punctured his lungs, it would not make a difference. He had hurt her and had thoroughly broken what trust they had managed to grow since the Labyrinth. “Rex, I couldn’t look at her the way I look at you. Do you think what we have is so easily replaced?” his deep, hoarse voice is laced with hurt, now, “Surely you, of all beings, would understand my need to protect a child.”
“What even are we now?”
The question chills his heated blood instantly. It sends a thread of cold panic weaving through his barrel and chest, wrapping around his heart and mind with a sharp squeeze. He lowers his neck, hesitantly (pleadingly) stretching his head towards her, halting halfway. “We are what we have been,” he says lowly, “Two broken souls trying to find solace in each other…” he takes a deep breath, “But we’re only breaking each other further.”
A fish hawk keened, a lonely cry above the gentle surf.
Tembovu
@Rexanna ;-; I can't take it.
Please tag Tembovu.
