Chernobyl

Shifts of wind-blown snow found their way across her back and she fidgeted slightly against the cold. She was at ease, completely oblivious to the oddity that could be seen of her illicit company. She did not feel disgust nor did she question his intent, he just was. She felt freed and unabashed. Her eyes wandered for a moment while she kept a carefully trained ear turned toward the obsidian prince at her shoulder. His warmth was foreign upon her skin and while her mind seemed to stray, his presence was not forgotten. Whatever existed in her past had certainly followed her through the years and she often wondered if she would be free of the chains that wrapped painfully around her heart. Love was not an emotion that she could ever understand, but Murdock’s friendship weighed heavily on her conscious.

Had her mother not warned her of this day? Even now, her voice was ragged upon her ear- her hot breath brushing against her heated skin as she reminded her of where her loyalties truly lay. The thought made her cringe slightly. How long had it been since words of devoted love had been whisper softly to the broken filly that now stood listlessly amongst the drifts of snow with no evident end in sight? Had she disappeared in the wind? Had the rain washed her away? Wherever she had gone, there was no trace of her now and Chernobyl was right to reminder herself of such dark memories. The unwanted caress, the sickly preconceptions, the avid remembrance of pain- it was all too much to bear, too much to run from.

She was haunted.

Startled back to his side, Chernobyl looked cautiously to Murdock who still appeared happily distracted by the present. He exuded goodness and freedom, but could she forgive him for it? He knew all too well how her moods would shift at the blink of an eye and still believed her soul to be what? Virtuous? Noble? There was nothing good left in her heart and yet she was willing to allow him in, allow him to see her for whatever she might be or have been. It was a dangerous game they played and while she knew that it wasn’t her place to bring him down into her own pit of despair, it was almost impossible to let him go now that she had inevitably learned to trust in him.

Dark lids fell over her equally darkened eyes as his wing was thrust out and over her backside. The feeling was ecstasy. The soft feathering along her tender flesh nearly overwhelmed her senses and made her smile in spite of her earlier reluctance. Against her better judgment, she found herself leaning against his warmth and once again finding only comfort. When would she finally come to her senses?

She hoped never.

“The Grey… I’ve only heard rumors. But I assume their power is not the only myth that delights my interest. One of their Executioners has certainly warranted my attentions. I don’t suppose you could arrange a small meeting?” Her eyes were alight with dark humor and her lips had parted slightly to accommodate the quirky smile that now brought her out and away from her former sense of desolation. “You? Scary? Have I underestimated the Explorer?” She smiled once more, in spite of her racing heart. She was tempted to run a velvet touch along his nape, curious to see his reaction and even more curious to gauge her own.

However, in the midst of her calculations, Murdock ripped her away from any such notions. Or perhaps he had beaten her at her own game. Whatever the case, she turned widened eyes to her explorer before quietly confirming her own mutual feelings. “I’ve missed you too… maybe too much.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks and she looked away for a moment before returning her questioning gaze to the beautiful Pegasus before her. His reflection in her mind had been unchanging. He was true in every sense of the word, but even as he stood beside her, all smiles and mystery- there was something that she felt she was overlooking. An executioner of the Grey? What did his past consist of that would allow such a free-spirited young boy to kill? She wanted to know, or maybe needed to know. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help the hesitation that followed her admission of sentiment.

“Who were you… in the past?"

Did his answer hold the key to unlocking every agony she too had experienced so long ago?

But oh, I'm staring at the mess I made
As you turn, you take your heart and walk away