there's light at the edge of the darkness
Loren stared at Amalia for a long moment, expression inscrutable. ”Do you?” The words came out in a dull tone. He tilted his head as he waited for her to respond.
As she laughed, though, something cold and dark stirred in his breast. He didn't bother to hide the way his eyes had suddenly grown icy and haunted, or the way a chill had crept over his thoughts. "Not really. In fact, you should count yourself lucky you're not of a kind with me. My disasters get people killed." Dropping the straw in his lap, he stoppered the vial with a bit more force than was necessary and tossed it in his bag.
Subsiding in both mind and body, he felt an exhausted emptiness form where the sorrow and anger and self-hate had just been. Picking up the straw, he wove it together listlessly. More strands began to float in the air, gripped by his telekinesis, twisted into place. "Doesn't really matter what I make, does it? It's not going to make a difference."
As she laughed, though, something cold and dark stirred in his breast. He didn't bother to hide the way his eyes had suddenly grown icy and haunted, or the way a chill had crept over his thoughts. "Not really. In fact, you should count yourself lucky you're not of a kind with me. My disasters get people killed." Dropping the straw in his lap, he stoppered the vial with a bit more force than was necessary and tossed it in his bag.
Subsiding in both mind and body, he felt an exhausted emptiness form where the sorrow and anger and self-hate had just been. Picking up the straw, he wove it together listlessly. More strands began to float in the air, gripped by his telekinesis, twisted into place. "Doesn't really matter what I make, does it? It's not going to make a difference."
loren
