AmaLIa
shield of safrin
She tries to keep her eyes on his, to meet the blue with onyx and find warmth beyond the red rimmed sclera. To see the man she loves, the man she knows him to be beneath the weight of scars and the stains of blood, the impulses for violence and wanton decimation. But the images, the memories he sent through the bond flash like lighting in her mind, blinding her to the familiarity she so desperately craves. So she looks away, eyes sliding off of his like oil off of water, falling back to the grain of the table as she waits for his response.
And when it comes it feels... well. It gives her none of the reassurance she wanted; it feels like a cop-out, like justification, like ash. "There's always another solution," she replies, sharper than she means to be, but she's reaching a point dangerously close to shattering apart. "You- those things- how many did you do because it was the only option? Can you honestly tell me you didn't enjoy h-hurting people?"
Then her eyes turn back to him, hot and fierce as embers. "That you wouldn't still enjoy it, if the circumstances were right?" There's a plea beneath the anger, the betrayal, the sense of confusion and the weight of the truth and the desperation to return to a time when she lived in happy ignorance. He is built to cut and she is built to shield; he is violence and aggression, and she is anxiety and empathy. They could beautifully come together, or they could spectacularly fall apart.
And when it comes it feels... well. It gives her none of the reassurance she wanted; it feels like a cop-out, like justification, like ash. "There's always another solution," she replies, sharper than she means to be, but she's reaching a point dangerously close to shattering apart. "You- those things- how many did you do because it was the only option? Can you honestly tell me you didn't enjoy h-hurting people?"
Then her eyes turn back to him, hot and fierce as embers. "That you wouldn't still enjoy it, if the circumstances were right?" There's a plea beneath the anger, the betrayal, the sense of confusion and the weight of the truth and the desperation to return to a time when she lived in happy ignorance. He is built to cut and she is built to shield; he is violence and aggression, and she is anxiety and empathy. They could beautifully come together, or they could spectacularly fall apart.
you can't choose what stays
and what fades away
and what fades away
