CHULANE
I believe that dreams are sacred
There's a moment where he just looks at her, just as caught, as stuck, unsure of what to do next. He knows he behaved deplorably the last time he'd seen her, he knows whatever anger, whatever rage he'd felt at the time had largely dissipated - like a drunk waking up hungover after a binge, he regretted it almost immediately.
He was surprised though, at her reaction to him. Had he really had that much of an affect on her? Did they have that much of a 'friend'ship between them that they cared that much how they treated one another?
He wasn't sure what to make of it, but did throw a glance over his shoulder to see if he could track whatever it was Wessex looked at behind him. How often had he mistaken a shadow for Kia? How often had he mistaken Auni, out of the corner of his eye, for Kia's form sitting beside him? It was easy to do, when grief and denial consumed you.
Then Wessex began talking, and his attention swiftly returned to her, noting the desperation, the confusion, the morose pleading nature that had overcome her. "What?" he automatically said first, though his first instincts knew who she was referring to when Wessex said she.
Glacial depths narrowed sharply, distrust blossoming. But Chulane was ever patient, ever kind, and even though he wanted to, he hesitated before acting rashly again. "Come in, Wessex," he urged, opening the door and stepping back to give her room. "I know what happened." In as much as he could know, at least, he knew.
He was surprised though, at her reaction to him. Had he really had that much of an affect on her? Did they have that much of a 'friend'ship between them that they cared that much how they treated one another?
He wasn't sure what to make of it, but did throw a glance over his shoulder to see if he could track whatever it was Wessex looked at behind him. How often had he mistaken a shadow for Kia? How often had he mistaken Auni, out of the corner of his eye, for Kia's form sitting beside him? It was easy to do, when grief and denial consumed you.
Then Wessex began talking, and his attention swiftly returned to her, noting the desperation, the confusion, the morose pleading nature that had overcome her. "What?" he automatically said first, though his first instincts knew who she was referring to when Wessex said she.
Glacial depths narrowed sharply, distrust blossoming. But Chulane was ever patient, ever kind, and even though he wanted to, he hesitated before acting rashly again. "Come in, Wessex," he urged, opening the door and stepping back to give her room. "I know what happened." In as much as he could know, at least, he knew.
Take my darkest fears and play them
