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the fine line between love and hate
His ears, which had tilted back with his fervent tones, sweep forward. Their black-rims strain forward as shock fractured through him once again—though this was not the dangerous clamor of demons on the doors of his walls. No, this was surprised, pained empathy; Ada had a mate? A child?
She had not mentioned these these things on the Plains.
Black masked brows crease in a frown, corners of his thick lips tilting downwards as he leaned further towards her, straining to hear the soft whisper her voice had been reduced to beneath the weight of a past she had not yet bled out of her soul. And, despite her not acquiescing to his request to leave the past alone, he still listened. He would forever listen to his cat—is that not how they had begun? By him listening to her when she refused to quail in his shadow beneath the heat of his rage?
So he listened, bringing his great skull closer to hers, withers twitching once as his wound’s blood welled and itched his hide. Navy eyes met her open, shining stare, “I did not know you had a child,” His voice was a deep, hushed murmur—laced with apology and empathy, “I thought you had lost only your sire and dam… But your mate? And your child? H—“ He cut off his question as she spoke once again, “Forgiveness is what heals the soul and eases the ghosts and demons.”
His lips gently press together, a pain in his chest slowly becoming more and more pronounced with each great pound of his massive heart. ”And you need to forgive and love yourself like…” His eyes closed against the crest of pain he knew would come. It had been a long while since this tormenting wave had overwhelmed him. He had become a master at avoiding it, running from it, bolstering his walls against the onslaught of loss that had once been his constant cohort.
And Ada’s persistent words, her confession, her profession (had she professed? It was lost in the throbbing tides in his mind and chest), it all brought down his armaments. In the face of her loss and her open forgiveness, his defenses were useless. Lost in this flood, his head reached out to her, seeking some sort of anchor to tie him to the pool in which they stood.
A shallow, pained breath pushed out of his nostrils—how had he forgotten how much this hurt? His teeth clenched, rigid jaw pressing against her cheek, “'Forgiveness'—you say that like it is easy, Ada,” his deep rumble was raw, now, “I have spent half a lifetime seeking revenge and another half trying to atone for it—“ the truth of his time in Helovia undid him with a ragged breath, “—how did they die?” His question from earlier, about her mate and child, tore from his lips.
She had not mentioned these these things on the Plains.
Black masked brows crease in a frown, corners of his thick lips tilting downwards as he leaned further towards her, straining to hear the soft whisper her voice had been reduced to beneath the weight of a past she had not yet bled out of her soul. And, despite her not acquiescing to his request to leave the past alone, he still listened. He would forever listen to his cat—is that not how they had begun? By him listening to her when she refused to quail in his shadow beneath the heat of his rage?
So he listened, bringing his great skull closer to hers, withers twitching once as his wound’s blood welled and itched his hide. Navy eyes met her open, shining stare, “I did not know you had a child,” His voice was a deep, hushed murmur—laced with apology and empathy, “I thought you had lost only your sire and dam… But your mate? And your child? H—“ He cut off his question as she spoke once again, “Forgiveness is what heals the soul and eases the ghosts and demons.”
His lips gently press together, a pain in his chest slowly becoming more and more pronounced with each great pound of his massive heart. ”And you need to forgive and love yourself like…” His eyes closed against the crest of pain he knew would come. It had been a long while since this tormenting wave had overwhelmed him. He had become a master at avoiding it, running from it, bolstering his walls against the onslaught of loss that had once been his constant cohort.
And Ada’s persistent words, her confession, her profession (had she professed? It was lost in the throbbing tides in his mind and chest), it all brought down his armaments. In the face of her loss and her open forgiveness, his defenses were useless. Lost in this flood, his head reached out to her, seeking some sort of anchor to tie him to the pool in which they stood.
A shallow, pained breath pushed out of his nostrils—how had he forgotten how much this hurt? His teeth clenched, rigid jaw pressing against her cheek, “'Forgiveness'—you say that like it is easy, Ada,” his deep rumble was raw, now, “I have spent half a lifetime seeking revenge and another half trying to atone for it—“ the truth of his time in Helovia undid him with a ragged breath, “—how did they die?” His question from earlier, about her mate and child, tore from his lips.
@Adaeze
Please tag Tembovu.
