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02-15-2014, 05:05 AM
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
Like a crow she stood above the precious thing, her iron gray hide a perfect canvas for the reflection of lights, the shadows between the lit panels like wings stretching from her shape: yet she seemed to relax when she recognized him. It was a funny thing, really—he'd told her things, and now, when he came across her again, all alone in a maze where no one might never find her, she wasn't afraid in the least, but rather, the opposite. His small smile grew into a crooked little grin, shoulder still lodged against the wall for its support. Not that he was a very frightening sight with his healing wounds, and too tired to stand with his natural icy grace. He felt like the muddy spring snow, half-melted and not very impressive, or clean, at all.because there's ice in my heart. With her head tilted to one side at the sound of his speech she replied, "Why in the name of all that's holy would I want to keep a crystal warm? It's just as shiny whether it's hot or cold.", and he laughed—it wasn't the laugh of the winter blizzard flaying hope and warmth from the skin, but one of sunlight, and amusement. A crystal! Somewhere in the back of his head Irma was laughing too, not sure whether she should be concerned for Nyx's intelligence, or just amused by her ignorance. "It's an egg, doofus," he replied, warmth running along the edges of his voice and mirth lighting up the depths of his tired eyes. Such a small moment, a few seconds, and yet it made the long, exhausting trip worth the oncoming headache and the burning of his limbs. Illness had reduced his endurance to nothing, but he wouldn't let it take his heart. "You look a mess." Again, he laughed. You don't say. He felt like a mess too, hot all over and with a demon hammering on the insides of his cranium—but at least he kept himself away from infection. At least there was no fire involved. Thank the heavens for that. "I am a mess," he corrected her with gentle humor. She'd seen many of his darker sides that day on the Veins—his irritated side, and the one that came out to protect his secrets, the mask of dark-edged coldness which covered face and eyes and soul to guard the soft heart.. but she had not seen this side, the gentle warmth of sunlight on snow, who he sometimes thought he really was. The blue-eyed devil who hid all his secrets beneath smiles and light. |
