// and it's alright, that's the way i like it —
His head shoots up a little, straightening in surprise that she tells him that she didn’t tell him on purpose. Because he doesn’t know why it mattered so much that he couldn’t know. And it burns in all the spaces Thorn has long since cordoned off, kept fluid and open so he doesn’t get hurt like this – and here he is. “What?” He asks in full on confusion, hands dropping to his sides as he watches her, brows pinching. “I mean, I get that. I had some sudden fuckin urge to scream like I’ve never screamed before.” He points out, but it hadn’t been a reason for him to leave. Just a little what the fuck.
He deflates a touch as he gets back in her space – her backing up like he’s going to hurt her (when would he ever??) when all he wants is an easier conversation. One that feels less like they’re each on their own island shouting across to one another from across the distance.
She shouts and he winces instinctively – not because of her or her shouting, obviously, but it stills him. Like it’s opened some long since blocked memories that Thorn’s tried hard to get rid of. “Yeah, and?” He asks her, a touch of urgency leaving him until he realizes what fully happened – her comment of being a mess like they all weren’t messes. And selfishly, he wonders why she thinks she’s worse off than the rest of them.
But Vesper’s gone – that too much of a pretty boy starry demigod, flashy and shadowy and full of mystery that seemed to trap Colt within the confines of his allure. The courtesan sighs heavily, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, a bangle on his arm dancing down his forearm with the movement. And maybe it’s a little selfish of him and a little mean, but he slips his seafoam gaze back over toward her, hardened with some amount of steel he’s not sure she’s seen in him before. “So… You’re just gonna let him ruin your life 'n shit?” He asks, that hand in his hair gesturing to her house and even gesturing between them. Because apparently, this whole not talking to you on purpose Thorn, is because I’m a mess and nobody will love me all because some stupid demigod won’t was the thought pattern she’d gone through.
He deflates a touch as he gets back in her space – her backing up like he’s going to hurt her (when would he ever??) when all he wants is an easier conversation. One that feels less like they’re each on their own island shouting across to one another from across the distance.
She shouts and he winces instinctively – not because of her or her shouting, obviously, but it stills him. Like it’s opened some long since blocked memories that Thorn’s tried hard to get rid of. “Yeah, and?” He asks her, a touch of urgency leaving him until he realizes what fully happened – her comment of being a mess like they all weren’t messes. And selfishly, he wonders why she thinks she’s worse off than the rest of them.
But Vesper’s gone – that too much of a pretty boy starry demigod, flashy and shadowy and full of mystery that seemed to trap Colt within the confines of his allure. The courtesan sighs heavily, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, a bangle on his arm dancing down his forearm with the movement. And maybe it’s a little selfish of him and a little mean, but he slips his seafoam gaze back over toward her, hardened with some amount of steel he’s not sure she’s seen in him before. “So… You’re just gonna let him ruin your life 'n shit?” He asks, that hand in his hair gesturing to her house and even gesturing between them. Because apparently, this whole not talking to you on purpose Thorn, is because I’m a mess and nobody will love me all because some stupid demigod won’t was the thought pattern she’d gone through.
thorn
— getting crucified,
every time you cross my mind //
every time you cross my mind //
