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06-04-2014, 04:11 AM
en natt så kall och månen den var klar
He got the feeling that she wasn't really listening, that she couldn't take in what he was trying to tell her. Maybe it was her youth? He didn't know if he'd been dramatic and gushing about heartbreak when he was her age, he just knew that he was older now—and that love was no absolute truth, that life actually went on after something like this. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't truly understand her, because he had a heart of ice and could steel himself against such pain as rejection.
Or at least, so he thought. He didn't know yet. Maybe, some day in the future, he'd be the one not wanting to listen to reason as his hopes and dreams crumbled into dust.
"Someday, I will die alone, Mauja. You will see. Any horse that has met me does not like me. Go ask anyone."
Despite the fact that all he wanted to do was grab her by the poll and shake her vigorously from side to side, he found himself wanting to contest her statement—he couldn't grow old with her, but he had a hard time believing no one liked her. Because.. he didn't dislike her. Not really. Not in the way that he disliked horses; when he disliked them, it meant he did his best to stab them through the chest with an ice spike. Aurelia was just a bit different, a bit raw and passionate, sort of like an insecure kitten who set herself aflame—bit, before she was bitten. Truly, like dancing with fire on loose ground, and he wasn't yet graceful enough to make it through a conversation with her without upsetting her.
He wasn't sure he'd ever be. Wasn't sure she'd give him the opportunity to try again. Hadn't someone back home once complained that those you thought were friends left you, when they realized you didn't return their feelings? Because for some reason or another, they couldn't stand being in your presence anymore?
"Go ask me," he dared her, there under the moonlight. There was a vast, vast space between love and hate; because he didn't feel one of them, didn't mean he felt the other.
But he wasn't sure she'd understand that, either.
[ I got incredibly distracted about halfway through this ><; ]
Or at least, so he thought. He didn't know yet. Maybe, some day in the future, he'd be the one not wanting to listen to reason as his hopes and dreams crumbled into dust.
"Someday, I will die alone, Mauja. You will see. Any horse that has met me does not like me. Go ask anyone."
Despite the fact that all he wanted to do was grab her by the poll and shake her vigorously from side to side, he found himself wanting to contest her statement—he couldn't grow old with her, but he had a hard time believing no one liked her. Because.. he didn't dislike her. Not really. Not in the way that he disliked horses; when he disliked them, it meant he did his best to stab them through the chest with an ice spike. Aurelia was just a bit different, a bit raw and passionate, sort of like an insecure kitten who set herself aflame—bit, before she was bitten. Truly, like dancing with fire on loose ground, and he wasn't yet graceful enough to make it through a conversation with her without upsetting her.
He wasn't sure he'd ever be. Wasn't sure she'd give him the opportunity to try again. Hadn't someone back home once complained that those you thought were friends left you, when they realized you didn't return their feelings? Because for some reason or another, they couldn't stand being in your presence anymore?
"Go ask me," he dared her, there under the moonlight. There was a vast, vast space between love and hate; because he didn't feel one of them, didn't mean he felt the other.
But he wasn't sure she'd understand that, either.
[ I got incredibly distracted about halfway through this ><; ]
Se dem brinna över verkan se dem dansa framför bål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
