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06-26-2017, 11:40 PM
the cigarettes you light one after another
won’t help you forget her
won’t help you forget her
Footsteps. Soft Breaths. Shapeless depths, and we intersect. A fellow night wanderer made his way near. My pale brow furrowed, a weary huff escaped my lips. I considered, for a moment, walking away and hoping whoever approached would get the message. I didn't quite feel up to socializing with anyone. If lonely is what I am to be, then lonely I shall stay, rose my defiant, bitter thoughts.
I pick up a heavy hoof, muscles tensing, ready to flee, but the scent of who approached struck me as familiar. I paused my escape plan, setting my hoof back down, contemplating to stay or to go. He smelled different, like Shida, like the desert, like the Throat. A fitting place for the indomitable warrior, I supposed.
"Auriel?"
My shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice, though I relaxed immediately after. It's muscle memory now—to tense at the sound of a voice, to flinch when I hear my name. I never expect good things to come from lips talking about me. His tone held no malice—I didn't expect it to.
"Volterra," I breathe the name surprisingly easy. I find it within myself to lift my head, to toss my moonlit mane, and pretend it has no tangles. I tried to pull myself together for him. Naturally, I put on a weak show. A soft smirk crosses my features, pale amber eyes grazing Volterra's body, his dragons' gazes a jealous pang in my chest (he will never know the lonely you know).
There are many questions that arose in my head, such as 'What have you been up to? Are you well? The Throat—is it Godless now, too? Have you seen Shida? Fuck, maybe I shouldn't talk about her, he doesn't care about my problems. How is your family faring?' But they never found my lips. I never found the enthusiasm. Instead, I decided to give no fucks, which allowed for a surprising burst of life to fill my blood.
"Long time no see."
"No kiddin'," I momentarily grinned back with a tempting, smoky exhale. My eyes leave his frame again, though, (because looking at the dragons ached—why does he get two and you get none?) flicking up dispassionately towards the stars. "What is it you're doing now that the world is ending?" I ask quietly, my meekly playful tone turning almost wistful.
@Volterra !
I pick up a heavy hoof, muscles tensing, ready to flee, but the scent of who approached struck me as familiar. I paused my escape plan, setting my hoof back down, contemplating to stay or to go. He smelled different, like Shida, like the desert, like the Throat. A fitting place for the indomitable warrior, I supposed.
"Auriel?"
My shoulders tensed at the sound of his voice, though I relaxed immediately after. It's muscle memory now—to tense at the sound of a voice, to flinch when I hear my name. I never expect good things to come from lips talking about me. His tone held no malice—I didn't expect it to.
"Volterra," I breathe the name surprisingly easy. I find it within myself to lift my head, to toss my moonlit mane, and pretend it has no tangles. I tried to pull myself together for him. Naturally, I put on a weak show. A soft smirk crosses my features, pale amber eyes grazing Volterra's body, his dragons' gazes a jealous pang in my chest (
There are many questions that arose in my head, such as 'What have you been up to? Are you well? The Throat—is it Godless now, too? Have you seen Shida? Fuck, maybe I shouldn't talk about her, he doesn't care about my problems. How is your family faring?' But they never found my lips. I never found the enthusiasm. Instead, I decided to give no fucks, which allowed for a surprising burst of life to fill my blood.
"Long time no see."
"No kiddin'," I momentarily grinned back with a tempting, smoky exhale. My eyes leave his frame again, though, (
@Volterra !
She walks in starlight in another world.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.
