01-31-2020, 03:06 AM
His ass was glued to the seat. Good thing too. If it wasn’t for the chair holding him up, it would have been a hard fall to his knees. She spoke of escape. And fuck but he wanted to slip away. Take that hand she offered – if she was offering it – slip between the shadows and hide the rest of their long lives in guiltless abandon. Guilt was the noose he’d hang himself on someday. Another good reason to be glued to the chair: kicking it out from underneath would leave only two feet to dangle in the wind. So, he grit his teeth and listened to her words like they may breathe the secrets to survival. Because he wanted to survive. Right?
She was light as a cat curled up. He thought his heart would stop when she poured wounding words upon his neck. The bare skin was uncomfortably vulnerable, and he had the near overwhelming desire to turn his collar upright even as much as he wanted to yank it over his head completely and chuck it across the room.
His arms wrapped her waist without realizing it, but palms that spilled innocent blood weren’t crushing. His shoulders knotted to rocks. The barest turn of his neck tilted to her pressure. Hope welled and ideas formed. Bad ones. By the time Natalie’s whispers warmed both their lips, he was hopelessly buried.
If he flinched, it was only to tense his posture. To fight instinct. But Jay was as good a fighter as he was a liar. Natalie said so herself: he was a shit liar. Especially when the fight was against himself. Goddammit.
He was staring into her eyes, not even listening a little bit. Thrice and Texas. Custody and Atharim. They skimmed like rocks on still water. It would be a terrible idea. To pick her up. To feel that warmth pressed to his neck again. Palm pressed to palm. Sinking. Falling until buried by nothing but heat and hunger. His stomach turned to knots just thinking about it. At least between flashes of another face, illuminated by flickers of lightning from another life. Or what felt like it. Would be far better than counting flowers. Not that she was a distraction. She was far more. She was something else. Something else stirring… He squinted, grasping at focus. She was taken by something else. Something far remembered. Like living in exile. He frowned. But something familiar. The tension in his posture changed. She may not even notice it. He barely did himself. Except –
And then she mentioned him. Memories flashed. Memories that were his own, but not. Of all the emotions flickering his face, shame wasn’t among them. What he’d done with Anna Marie he’d carry like a ballast the rest of his life. Nox, on the other hand, was a friend. A soldier. A brother. Someone who understood the life they led. One of violence and blood, of screams and panic. Of going out night after night seeking more of the same. Not because they were heroes. But because they were warriors. Maybe – fuck, maybe because walked with a darker shadow than most.
Followed quickly by references to her. He could still feel the warmth in skin fading to lifelessness. Eyes empty and judging. A girl of salvation when she should have been saved. His own blues squeezed tight, unable to bear the sight of another human who shared the same final memories as he, because in Natalie’s eyes he saw reflections of another forever gone. Natalie was the older sister never known. The sibling deserved.
Did she see the horror stripping the bones from his flesh? The blood dripping from his face? Because she held the knife and words meant for comfort delivered the scalpels of torture. Which said a lot from a guy who was actually tortured. Placaso was easier to bear. Easier to endure. But why? Didn’t matter, he supposed.
The vulnerability of the moment of course meant it was the perfect opportunity for the self-imposed prison around his soul to crumble to ruins. He gasped before knowing what was happening. Realizing what he’d sensed all along without knowing it. The power burned like the sun. What blood was lost before flushed bright as that power denied. What grip before was gentle, now dug deep. Crushing.
“It’s back,” he whispered, trying to withstand being pulled asunder.
His hands ached, and he realized with newfound fear that he may have hurt Natalie as he withstood the storm. Shaking, he tried to escape her perimeter. But even fear burned away. Guilt was forgotten.
He was walking the room, traversing dangerous footholds, bending it to his will, without realizing how he came to to his feet. Flower petals curled to cinders. Blankets crumbled to ash. He threw his hands to his hair, gripping the strands tight as the very walls seemed to crumble. Nothing remained except that blinding power that upon its horrible swarm, would devour everything until not even a shell of its host remained. It was fucking amazing.
He didn’t know how long it took. But it wasn’t the look of a conquering hero that informed more delicate company the news of triumph. The power was finally tamed. A wild horse broken by a master’s dominance. Jay was a different man – yet fully the same – when it was released from his grasp. Strength flowed limbs previously limp. Purpose planted him king of the hotel room.
He grinned, but it was a grin through a storm conquered.
“It’s back.” said breathlessly.
He breathed easier now. He swallowed nervously, none the less, studying the flesh and blood girl that breathed life to him.
”Did I hurt you?” he wanted to be near her more than anything, but the ebbs and flows of storm surges were unpredictable. He knew that about himself now. The next time she may be truly wounded. He couldn’t bear another loss, another pair of eyes wounded. That was another reason Nox was a welcomed companion. His emotions were distant. Mutually understood. There were no wounds to inflict upon passing company. Even Axel’s death was not so horrible a witness. Though he would close the lids with esteemed hands to ensure a long rest after a lifetime of conflict. Axel, Nox, any of them, they weren’t shadows to haunt Jay’s conscious.
But Natalie was something else. He may run to the ends of the earth and those pale eyes would haunt his every step. Haunt him worse than the ghosts of sisters, brothers, friends and family.
Power or no power, he couldn’t do this without her either. Maybe he would hurt her. But he wouldn’t be timid about it either. Taking her hands was easy, and if he’d hurt them before, it was an easy thumb he rubbed across her knuckles now. “I won’t do this without you either,” he said, willing to sink into her arms if she would have him.
She was light as a cat curled up. He thought his heart would stop when she poured wounding words upon his neck. The bare skin was uncomfortably vulnerable, and he had the near overwhelming desire to turn his collar upright even as much as he wanted to yank it over his head completely and chuck it across the room.
His arms wrapped her waist without realizing it, but palms that spilled innocent blood weren’t crushing. His shoulders knotted to rocks. The barest turn of his neck tilted to her pressure. Hope welled and ideas formed. Bad ones. By the time Natalie’s whispers warmed both their lips, he was hopelessly buried.
If he flinched, it was only to tense his posture. To fight instinct. But Jay was as good a fighter as he was a liar. Natalie said so herself: he was a shit liar. Especially when the fight was against himself. Goddammit.
He was staring into her eyes, not even listening a little bit. Thrice and Texas. Custody and Atharim. They skimmed like rocks on still water. It would be a terrible idea. To pick her up. To feel that warmth pressed to his neck again. Palm pressed to palm. Sinking. Falling until buried by nothing but heat and hunger. His stomach turned to knots just thinking about it. At least between flashes of another face, illuminated by flickers of lightning from another life. Or what felt like it. Would be far better than counting flowers. Not that she was a distraction. She was far more. She was something else. Something else stirring… He squinted, grasping at focus. She was taken by something else. Something far remembered. Like living in exile. He frowned. But something familiar. The tension in his posture changed. She may not even notice it. He barely did himself. Except –
And then she mentioned him. Memories flashed. Memories that were his own, but not. Of all the emotions flickering his face, shame wasn’t among them. What he’d done with Anna Marie he’d carry like a ballast the rest of his life. Nox, on the other hand, was a friend. A soldier. A brother. Someone who understood the life they led. One of violence and blood, of screams and panic. Of going out night after night seeking more of the same. Not because they were heroes. But because they were warriors. Maybe – fuck, maybe because walked with a darker shadow than most.
Followed quickly by references to her. He could still feel the warmth in skin fading to lifelessness. Eyes empty and judging. A girl of salvation when she should have been saved. His own blues squeezed tight, unable to bear the sight of another human who shared the same final memories as he, because in Natalie’s eyes he saw reflections of another forever gone. Natalie was the older sister never known. The sibling deserved.
Did she see the horror stripping the bones from his flesh? The blood dripping from his face? Because she held the knife and words meant for comfort delivered the scalpels of torture. Which said a lot from a guy who was actually tortured. Placaso was easier to bear. Easier to endure. But why? Didn’t matter, he supposed.
The vulnerability of the moment of course meant it was the perfect opportunity for the self-imposed prison around his soul to crumble to ruins. He gasped before knowing what was happening. Realizing what he’d sensed all along without knowing it. The power burned like the sun. What blood was lost before flushed bright as that power denied. What grip before was gentle, now dug deep. Crushing.
“It’s back,” he whispered, trying to withstand being pulled asunder.
His hands ached, and he realized with newfound fear that he may have hurt Natalie as he withstood the storm. Shaking, he tried to escape her perimeter. But even fear burned away. Guilt was forgotten.
He was walking the room, traversing dangerous footholds, bending it to his will, without realizing how he came to to his feet. Flower petals curled to cinders. Blankets crumbled to ash. He threw his hands to his hair, gripping the strands tight as the very walls seemed to crumble. Nothing remained except that blinding power that upon its horrible swarm, would devour everything until not even a shell of its host remained. It was fucking amazing.
He didn’t know how long it took. But it wasn’t the look of a conquering hero that informed more delicate company the news of triumph. The power was finally tamed. A wild horse broken by a master’s dominance. Jay was a different man – yet fully the same – when it was released from his grasp. Strength flowed limbs previously limp. Purpose planted him king of the hotel room.
He grinned, but it was a grin through a storm conquered.
“It’s back.” said breathlessly.
He breathed easier now. He swallowed nervously, none the less, studying the flesh and blood girl that breathed life to him.
”Did I hurt you?” he wanted to be near her more than anything, but the ebbs and flows of storm surges were unpredictable. He knew that about himself now. The next time she may be truly wounded. He couldn’t bear another loss, another pair of eyes wounded. That was another reason Nox was a welcomed companion. His emotions were distant. Mutually understood. There were no wounds to inflict upon passing company. Even Axel’s death was not so horrible a witness. Though he would close the lids with esteemed hands to ensure a long rest after a lifetime of conflict. Axel, Nox, any of them, they weren’t shadows to haunt Jay’s conscious.
But Natalie was something else. He may run to the ends of the earth and those pale eyes would haunt his every step. Haunt him worse than the ghosts of sisters, brothers, friends and family.
Power or no power, he couldn’t do this without her either. Maybe he would hurt her. But he wouldn’t be timid about it either. Taking her hands was easy, and if he’d hurt them before, it was an easy thumb he rubbed across her knuckles now. “I won’t do this without you either,” he said, willing to sink into her arms if she would have him.
Only darkness shows you the light.