He stood silent, allowing her to speak uninterrupted until the torrent of words came to a halt. Ears pricked forward, he heeded every single vowels, every uttered phrase, searching for something that might aid him in his search for an answer on what to do now. But no matter how he tried, the stallion couldn't find a point in her tale, no guiding lights or epiphanies hidden between phrases.
Once Tor ran out of words, a silence began to grow in the grove. It took the form of stale breaths, awkward dancing of uncertain eyes, and altogether it made the situation more bothersome than it might have had to be.
He didn't know what to say. Was she trying to tell him that she had no room for a maybe, that it was black or white, and perhaps not even white since she wasn't sure herself on what she was feeling? It was too cryptic a message for him to fully understand, and in his lack of knowing what she wished to hear, he ran out of words to say. Hooves shuffled over sprouting grasses, trampled the earth beneath the weight of his guilt. A butterfly flitted past, close enough for the ethereal wings to brush against his nose. A soft touch, barely felt, but enough to return the tongue from its frozen state.
"I'm sorry" he said once more. Simple words, falling like a rock after breaking the surface of quietness. Heavy, relentless, denying. "I hope we can still be friends..."
But perhaps it was a futile hope? Lace couldn't help but feel like something very fragile and precious had been shattered now, something that couldn't be retrieved. Did she feel the same? Or had she become too filled with regret to sense anything else? In any case, this conversation had emptied its possibilities. There would be nothing more to say or do - if the healer tried to leave this time, she would be allowed to go unhindered. The stallion who shattered her dreams had too much on his mind now, too many things to sort out with himself.
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
one hundred ways to break a heart [open]
